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)
My fingers hovered over the keyboard for too long before I finally typed back.
Me
Sure.
A minute later, there was another buzz.
Micah
Everything okay?
My throat closed.
Me
Just tired.
It wasn’t even a lie, not really. I was exhausted after tossing and turning all night. The gossip repeated in my head.
I tossed my phone aside and pushed myself out of bed, grimacing when I heard a guy snoring from the nook where Jennifer’s bed was. I hated when she brought men I didn’t know back to our place, especially since I didn’t have a door with a lock to help me feel comfortable in my own space.
It just reminded me even more of how safe and cared for I felt at Micah’s place. But that just made me feel even more miserable, wondering if everyone was right and I was really using Micah without intending to.
Tossing on some clothes, I grabbed my tote and headed down to the library. I used the computer there to search for jobs. Read a book. Tried to do anything that didn’t involve thinking about the rumor. But it didn’t stop me for long. I kept circling back to how bad the rumors could be for Micah’s reputation.
My phone buzzed again around three.
Micah
Heading into the pre-game meal with the team before we go to the stadium. Just wanted to let you know I’m thinking about you.
A lump rose in my throat at how sweet he was with me. My very own gentle giant. And that made everything hurt worse.
I flipped the phone face down so I wouldn’t see anything else come through. The hours crawled by in a heavy, lonely blur. Every time I reached for my phone, I snatched my hand back and reminded myself that Micah deserved someone who wouldn’t drag him down. Whose life wasn’t a mess.
I didn’t watch the game. I told myself it would only make it harder later.
By the time I went to bed, I’d made up my mind. I’d stop accepting Micah’s help. No more sleeping at his apartment. No more letting him drive me to and from work. And no more baking at the deli. Even though the decision hurt. A lot. It was the only way to protect him.
But I’d wait until the morning to tell him because I didn’t want to risk him seeing the message during halftime and messing up his game.
When I woke up, I felt like I hadn’t slept in years. My eyes were gritty, and my stomach was twisted into knots so tight I could barely breathe past them. I stared at my phone for a long time, reading Micah’s most recent messages over and over.
Micah
Your touchdown bars worked their magic. We won!
Micah
Hope you got lots of rest today.
Then, from around three this morning.
Micah
Finally landed in New York. Now I’m the one who needs some sleep.
He had to be exhausted, so I held off until ten before I typed the message that felt like ripping my own ribs open.
Me
I’m going to stop doing the baked goods at The Tight Line. I can’t keep taking help. Please don’t add anything else to the menu for me.
I stared at the message for a moment before I hit send.
I gulped hard, and my fingers felt like lead as I typed the next message.
Me
And I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be taking me to and from work or letting me sleep at your place constantly. I feel like I’m not standing on my own two feet. I need to be steady on my own because you won’t always be around to hold me up.
After hitting send once more, I shoved my phone into the bottom of my tote. Then I went to work early just so I’d have something to keep me busy.
I kept my head down through the lunch rush, avoiding eye contact with my coworkers and barely resisting the urge to check my phone and see if Micah had replied. By the time the afternoon lull hit, my nerves were shot. The whispers felt louder today, even if no one said anything outright.
I escaped into the stock room under the guise of grabbing a box of sugar packets. That was when I heard a deep voice I’d know anywhere.
“You want to run your mouth about my girl, you do it directly to me.”
I turned toward the crack in the door. Micah stood in the hallway, staring down at Derek, who looked like he was about to pass out.
“I didn’t mean…I wasn’t—”
“I don’t give a damn what you meant.” Micah’s tone wasn’t loud, but it was lethal in its calm. “You don’t get to spread lies about her. Not here. Not anywhere.”
Derek nodded so fast it looked painful.
My heart slammed against my ribs. I didn’t feel like I deserved him defending me like that.
If he saw me right now, I’d crumble. Completely.