Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Before he could come looking for me, I did something completely out of character. I bailed on my shift by slipping out the side door into the alley, my breath shaking and my vision blurring.
I needed to protect Micah, even if that meant breaking my own heart in the process.
11
MICAH
Istood in the break room of The Tight Line, staring at the empty space where Rylin must have been just minutes ago. Tammi had seen her run in here, but had been called away, so she didn’t know where Rylin had gone after that.
She’d run. I knew it in my bones. Not just stepped outside to clear her head or gone to the back for some fresh air. She’d bolted.
I rubbed the back of my neck and forced a deep breath through my nose, but it didn’t do a damn thing to slow the pressure tightening in my chest or calm the fire clawing at my insides. I wasn’t about to lose her over some bullshit rumor or whatever insecurities she was battling in that beautiful, stubborn head of hers.
Fuck that.
I turned to head out, but something on the round table in the center of the room caught my eye. Her notebook. The same one she always scribbled in when she thought no one was looking. I’d flipped through it several times, and the edge of it always seemed to be sticking out of her tote bag, battered and soft at the corners from being opened and closed a thousand times.
Without a second thought, I snatched it up and headed for the exit.
I hadn’t wanted to bother with parking because I was in a rush to see Rylin, so I’d taken a black cab. But I didn’t have time to wait for a car, so I dashed out to the curb and waved down a yellow taxi. Once I was inside, I gave him the address for Rylin’s studio.
Part of me hoped she wouldn’t be there, that she’d gone home and was waiting for me to arrive so we could deal with this together. The other half of me knew it was a fantasy. Life had been trying to shake her loose for too long. And I hadn’t had enough time to prove that I was her anchor. But I wasn’t letting go without a fight.
The cab dropped me in front, and I marched up the stairs. My jaw was tight, and my pulse hammered under my skin, but I kept it all locked down. Fire and rage wouldn’t fix this. I needed to be calm and steady so I could show her that I wasn’t going anywhere. And thought it wasn't the time to tell her, she needed me to show her that I loved her. Being angry would only push her away and deepen the skewed lenses through which she saw herself.
I knocked once and waited.
Silence.
Sighing, I knocked again. “Rylin, open the door. I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
Another second ticked by, then there was a faint sound of movement inside and the soft creak of the floor.
The lock clicked, and the door cracked open just enough for me to see her eyes—the hazel orbs rimmed red and swollen. She blinked, then seemed to change her mind and tried to slam the door shut, but I was already stepping forward, one hand out to block the hard surface before it could close.
“Rylin.”
“Micah, don’t—”
My other hand went to her belly, my palm pressing gently but firmly as I stepped forward. I moved slowly enough to keep her from panicking, but with no room for her to misinterpret who was in control of this moment. I pushed her back a step, crossed the threshold, and shut the door quietly behind me.
She wasn’t crying now, but she obviously had been. Her lashes were clumped, her skin flushed, and her breathing was uneven.
I wanted to haul her into my arms and never let go again. But first, we were going to talk. Because there needed to be no misunderstandings. No more pretending this thing between us was anything but vital.
“I’m not here to argue,” I assured her, keeping my voice low and steady. “But I’m not letting you hide from me either.”
“I wasn’t hiding,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest, her expression defensive and guarded.
Deciding not to pull at that thread, I stepped closer and added, “I’m not here to ask whether that rumor is true. Because I already know it’s fucking garbage. I know you. That’s not what this is about.”
She blinked rapidly and looked away.
“What I want to know,” I continued, voice rough with the weight of everything I wasn’t saying, “is why you didn’t come to me. Why didn’t you trust me enough to talk to me before running?”
Her arms dropped, shoulders sagging. “I didn’t want you to think it was true.”