Micah stood in front of Duncan, tilting his weight on one hip and chattering away, his work shirt tight against his chest and stomach, leaving very little to the imagination. The midmorning sun wove through his jet-black hair and accentuated the sharp slope of his nose, lips curling in the corners before they spread out to reveal the same smile that had sent me weak to my knees only a few days before.
It still did.
That smile awakened the memory of Micah’s lips slipping against my own, how his teeth scraped over my quivering thigh before he latched on and left behind a bruise. I turned away and scrubbed both hands over my face to stop my body from behaving like some horny kid. Jesus, I needed to get it together.
A weird wiggle tapped in my chest, and I knew that wasn’t about good sex. Micah didn’t see me as an addict. He saw me as myself, and that gave me a glimpse at what it would be like to do more than thinking about surviving every day.
It showed me how I could live.
I threw myself back into work. Work was safe, and the motions came to me like second nature. Micah hadn’t seen me yet, but I could still pick up his voice from the other side, the rumble of his laugh.
Just a few more minutes and he’d scoot. I ignored the dip of disappointment in my stomach at that, trying to convince myself that it was for the best.
“Hey, Nik, boss man wants you at the loading dock entrance,” Walt said with his usual gruffness as he pushed the pallet jack next to a plastic wrapped pallet of nonperishables. “Apparently, he wants you to meet the delivery kid. Maybe while you’re at it, you could put a word in about those assholes and their goddamn breaks.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and saluted a middle finger to whoever was looking down at me and laughing.
“On it,” I said as I walked past Walt, sharing a fist bump. It did fuck all to stop the pounding in my chest, or the buzzing at the base of my neck. Hopefully I’d be able to pretend like Micah was an absolute stranger and not someone who had his mouth on my dick three days ago.
Duncan and Micah were still talking at the entrance, Duncan keeping an eye on the guys unloading the pallets. Micah’s back was turned toward me, which was nice considering I was about to feel real silly in about thirty seconds.
It took a second for Duncan to see me, but his eyes lit up with a big smile as he said, “Oh, good, Walt found you. Micah, this is Nik, our back of house manager.”
“No, I’m not,” I said, giving Duncan a look of annoyance. “I’ve just worked here the longest, so I help the new guys out.”
Duncan smirked like he’d got what he wanted and said to Micah, “He may not have the title, but he’s the guy you need to talk to for signing off on the deliveries.”
Micah’s slanted a smirk that was damn near wicked. “Good to know a face to the name.”
“Okay, so Nik, you’ll be seeing Micah a lot more because we’re on his route full-time,” Duncan said. He proceeded to say something else, but I couldn’t hear him over the sudden race of my pulse and the ringing in my ears.
Seeing more of him.
Fuck. Now I remembered how that first night he mentioned something about Sunrise being on his route. I’d forgotten about it with all that had come after.
Duncan must’ve ended the conversation because he eventually clapped me on the back and walked away, leaving Micah and me alone. Unable to move from my spot, Micah slipped closer, eyes flitting over me, slow and deliberate, from my worn Blundstones Chance got me three Christmases ago all the way up toward my faded work shirt.
Both were way past due for a replacement. God, the last time he saw me, I looked like I actually had my life together, and now he was seeing me in full goblin mode.
Micah leaned in, and, with a raised eyebrow, murmured, “So, is this your version of texting me back?”
My mouth dropped, a bunch of nonsense stumbling out my stupid mouth, eventually managing a half-formed, “Huh?”
“You never texted back. Figured I wouldn’t see you again,” Micah said with an easygoing shrug, his gaze fixed on my lips.
A bit of hair fell over one of Micah’s eyes. I hated that it covered half his face, and I had to shove my fingernails into my itchy palms to stop me from touching him. “The world works in mysterious ways, I guess.”
“I was kinda confused you didn’t respond because sounded like you had a good time,” Micah said, heat in his eyes as he spoke like we were having a professional conversation instead of him casually chatting about how he gave me the most mind-blowing hand job.
“Bro, lower your voice. Shit carries in this place like no other,” I said with a hiss as I pulled Micah outside and away from suspicious eyes and potential eavesdroppers.
Micah didn’t seem deterred. He shook his hair out his face, glanced down at my hand tightly wound around his arm, and tilted his head up. He raised both of his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth curling upward.
I yanked my hand away. Micah looked so self-satisfied that I wanted to throw him against the wall and kiss it away.
“So, did you?” Micah asked.
I blinked, thrown back into the conversation. “Did I what?”
Now, Micah leaned closer until his lip was brushing against the shell of my ear, the tickle of his breath warm against my skin. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
A bruise peeped out from under the collar of his work shirt, and my dick twitched as a shiver ran down my spine. Knowing that I did that to Micah, and that he had to walk around with it hidden, made me want to touch him all over. I cupped Micah’s hip and tilted my head to study the long column of his throat, wanting my lips on it again.
“Yeah.” I flicked my gaze back up to him. “I did.”
Micah’s pretty smile showed so quickly, it made my knees weak. The clatter of empty crates rattled in the distance and knocked me back to my senses. I jerked back, glancing quickly over my shoulder and hoping no one saw me and Micah. Thankfully, the coast was clear.
“Listen, this ain’t the time to be talking ’bout this,” I said, sharper than I intended but not feeling a bit sorry for it. I adjusted my ear toward the crew, but they were all bitching about some game the university recently lost.
Micah tilted to the side and looked over my shoulder before his eyes locked on me again. “Well, the time could be tonight. What do you say?”
“I can’t. I have a few things I need to do, and it’d take a few hours.”
If I was another person, I would’ve said yes without a second thought. But I wasn’t another person, so tonight after work I’d go home and clean up, snag a small nap, and eat a dinner Duncan made for me this week. Then I’d head to the Collective and attended my support group.
Micah rolled the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, bobbing his head while he thought. Probably trying to figure out how to keep things chill because I sounded like I was blowing him off.
Which I kinda was. I looked down at my scanner, waiting for Micah to let me down easy, give me the kind I’ll see you when I see you vibe. It sucked, but this was what it always came back to, even if Micah made me feel like I wasn’t just an ex-junkie.
