He wasn’t serious.
Oh, but the glint in his eyes said Micah was dead serious.
My blood soared as his lips skimmed along the column of my neck, to the space behind my ears. A hum rose in my throat. “Micah, don’t start again. We should leave.”
His mouth hovered dangerously close to mine but never claimed it as I craved. “Or you could put me out of my misery, Mads, and kiss me.”
He knew I hated that nickname, and usually it infuriated me, but somehow hearing it said with such desperation had the opposite effect on me. My poor heart dipped as need filtered into every part of me. Micah and I had this uncanny ability to get sidetracked so easily. It was both maddening and intoxicating.
I felt myself being swayed by his eyes, by his lips, by the plea in his voice. He could shred my willpower with a glance, a smirk, and even simply my name. And sometimes it was the knowledge that he could do all of that effortlessly that infuriated me. How could it be so damn easy for him? And why was I so weak around him?
Lifting on my toes, I brought our lips closer, intending to tease him, but like usual, that plan always backfired on me. It was as if he could read my deviant mind and countered my maneuvers with his own.
His hands cupped my ass, hauling me against his chest, and just as his lips descended on mine, the lights went out, cutting off the kiss that could have shattered me.
“What the…?” Micah muttered, his hands steady on my waist, keeping me close to his side.
I took in a shaky breath. “Micah?” Blinded by darkness, I blinked, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the sudden deprivation of light. It wasn’t working; the contrast from light to dark had happened too swiftly, essentially leaving me sightless. A shiver crawled up my back, trepidation forming a tight ball in my gut. I didn’t suffer from nyctophobia, but I also knew that not only good things happened in the dark.
“It’s okay,” he whispered near my ear. “I got you.”
Strong fingers laced with mine, carefully leading me through the darkness. I trusted that I wouldn’t faceplant into a locker or trip over someone’s forgotten cup.
Why did my brain have to go there? Of all the football equipment in this room, why a damn jock cup?
“Ouch,” Micah hissed, coming to a halt, and despite only being able to see the shadow of his outline, I felt him bend over slightly, his free hand moving to his leg.
“What is it?” I asked, the question racing out.
“Nothing, I just rammed my shin into a bench.” I didn’t have to see his face to picture the deep scowl on his lips.
An unbalanced giggle worked its way up my throat at the image my mind created, born of part fear and part amusement at the tough football player being taken down by an inanimate wooden object.
Micah glanced over his shoulder as he straightened up. “Are you laughing right now?”
Since he stopped so suddenly, I was nearly plastered to his back. “I can’t help it. This situation is just so outrageous it’s funny.”
He resumed moving toward the exit, hobbling a step or two and taking me with him. “Is that so?”
I rolled my eyes at the back of his head.
Micah finally pulled open the door, a stream of light pouring into the locker room, chasing away the darkness behind me. Still shirtless, he tugged me outside, and I’d never been so happy to see the sun. I rubbed my eyes, the brightness stinging after coming out of a room with no windows. “What the hell was that?”
“Either someone messing with my game or just screwing around in general.” He didn’t seem all that worried, and that normally calmed me, but traces of uneasiness lingered inside my chest.
I panned the area outside the athletic building, making sure we were alone. Sterling was nowhere in sight, and I didn’t see Brock either. “This is too much excitement for me in a week.”
CHAPTEREIGHT
MADS
Micah sensed the tension in my body. He placed a comforting hand on the small of my back. “You don’t need to worry, Mads. It was nothing but a stupid prank. Let’s go. I’ll walk you back to the dorm. I’m still waiting to hear how exactly you ended up in the locker room. Not that I’m complaining.”
I relaxed against his side. “I bet,” I mumbled, my feet moving automatically with his, matching his strides.
His shoulder lightly bumped into mine, and he winked. “We’ll have to try that again without the disruption.”
“I’d rather not if it’s all the same.”