“Yeah.” I dredge up a smile for him. “Fine.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. No reason why I shouldn’t be. Blake has probably gotten bored with this little game already, thank God.
Micah holds my gaze for a long moment, then we set off again, passing outside familiar shops and crossing small alleys. This is the path I walk every morning and every afternoon, to and from work. My mind is sort of blank, a pleasant blank, the feel of Micah’s strong hand around mine and his presence at my side the only clear details in a muted world. The pressure of his fingers, clasped around mine, the big shadow he casts against a hazed sun, and…
He slows to a stop, twisting away from me. “Gimme a sec,” he says and releases my hand.
I reach after him, the world suddenly returning, sharp and ugly without him at my side. The stench of urine and trash from the alley, the exhaust fumes and noise from the street, the dirty sidewalk and store fronts.
Micah is striding into the alley. I follow him, curious.
He crouches down in front of bags of trash—no, not trash. A person, bundled up in dirty rags and newspapers. Micah is talking to him, asking him how he is.
I stand there, frozen.
Micah glances up at me, gives me a flash of a smile, then tucks a bill into the old man’s hand and rises. “Let’s go,” he says and grabs my hand again, pulling me back out onto the street.
Oh God. I look back over my shoulder at the alley, then around, still expecting Blake or his sentry man to appear. But he doesn’t.
“Sorry,” Micah says, though he doesn’t sound remorseful. “I usually make my rounds but hav
en’t been this way for a while.”
I say nothing, pressing my lips together as we approach the sports store. We stop outside, and he tugs on my hand, so I turn into his arms. His hands settle on my waist.
“It’s not dangerous, Ev,” he whispers. “It was just an old man.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know what scared you and made you stop talking to the people on the street like you used to. I…” He grimaces. “I like that about you. That you care. You’re an amazing person. Don’t let fear change you.”
He has no idea what he’s talking about.
Or maybe he does? Maybe it’s time to let go of my stupid fear of Blake. Time to finally do everything I want to do. “I’ve been thinking…” I draw strength from the cloudless blue of his eyes. “I want to do this properly, you know? Work with an organization. Make a real difference.”
His smile is dazzling. “Seriously? I could put you in touch with someone to talk to, if you like.”
“Who do you have in mind?”
“A friend of Zane and Rafe, the guys who run the tattoo shop. His name is Asher. His mom works for the National Runaway Switchboard.”
I draw a deep breath, let it out. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
My parents will have a fit. This isn’t what they envisioned for me. Then again, this is my life, not theirs, and this is what I want.
He bows his head forward, and I expect him to kiss me, but instead, he presses his forehead to mine. “Love you, Ev,” he whispers and then releases me and strides away before I’ve even had the time to process his words.
I enter the store in a daze. Does he mean it?
Chapter Nine
Micah
What the fuck is wrong with me, blurting out stuff like that to Ev? This is fucking nonsense, and I have no clue where the words came from. Or that warm feeling in my chest that lingers, making me feel like I could laugh out loud. Like I want to turn around and go back to her, grab her in my arms and never let go.
Have I mentioned I got it bad for this girl? Well, it seems it’s a whole lotta worse. I’m fucked in the head. Truly fucked.