Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
The rest of the meal goes smoothly. We flit from one topic to the next, and not once does either of Micah’s parents say or imply a single negative thing about Ellie or me. By the time we’re finishing up coffee and dessert and Lincoln is saying he needs to head to the club—and how he’s looking forward to the manager returning from his honeymoon so he can have his social life back—Donna is making Ellie and me promise we’ll get together soon for lunch.
“It’s weird being home on a Friday night,” I say to Micah once we’re back at his place. Ellie has already excused herself to her room, probably anxious to gossip with her friends on the phone. “I’m so used to working I don’t even know what to do with myself.”
Micah chuckles. “What would you be doing if you didn’t have to work and you weren’t stuck here?”
I think for a moment, then laugh. “I don’t know. I’ve been working pretty much every weekend since I turned fifteen.” Whether it was at the diner or the strip club, both of those places brought in the most money on the weekends, so the tips were really good. “And if I’m not working, I’m studying or taking care of Ellie.” I start school on Monday, but with everything going on, I switched my in-school classes to online, which works out for the best since I really didn’t want to leave Ellie alone.
“Pretend,” Micah says, leaning against the island and tugging on the front of my dress so I’m rubber banded into him. “Close your eyes.” I do as he says. “It’s Friday night and you can do whatever you want. Where are you and what are you doing?”
An image pops into my head, and I share it with Micah as I visualize it. “I’m out with my friends, drinking.” Mind you, I’ve lost touch with the majority of my friends, most of whom have been living it up while I’ve been working two jobs, going to school, and caring for my teenage sister. “We’ve gotten dressed up, complete with full-on makeup, and we’re downtown club hopping, dancing...just for fun. We’re drinking and laughing and having a good time.” I open my eyes to find Micah looking at me with a soft smile splayed across his face.
“Well, we can’t leave here, so the club is out, but…” He walks over to a cabinet and pulls out a bottle of liquor and then presses something on the wall. Music instantly starts playing, the sound of Ed Sheeran singing about having conversations with strangers filling the space. “We’re dressed up, we have music and alcohol…” He scoops the arm that’s not holding the bottle around my waist and pulls me into him. “And if it means I get to touch you, I’m down for dancing.”
“You’re crazy,” I say, trying to sound serious, only the giggle that escapes past my lips tells him otherwise.
He releases me and grabs two shot glasses, then he takes my hand in his and guides us outside by the pool—the music continuing to play even out here.
Setting the glasses down, he opens the bottle and pours us each a double shot and hands me one.
“Should we toast?” I half joke.
“Would you toast at the club?” he asks.
I nod. “To good liquor, good music, and—”
“Great fucking company,” Micah finishes for me.
We throw our shots back and then he pours us another...and then another. After my insides are nice and warm, he pulls me into his arms and I go willingly, snaking my arms around his neck. The song playing is upbeat, similar to what you’d hear at any club, and I let myself go, rubbing my body against Micah’s like I would if we were actually there and out on the dance floor having fun.
It should feel awkward since it’s only the two of us and we’re not actually at a club, but it doesn’t. With the busy city below us, and the twinkling stars above, it simply feels nice. It feels good to let loose and have a moment where nothing else exists—not the strip club or my mom or the bounty on my head. I’m just a twenty-four-year-old woman having a good time with a guy I’m attracted to.
When I twirl around, giving him my back, his hands glide up my sides as I back up and grind my ass against his groin. I can’t help but notice he’s hard...very hard.
I reach out and grab the bottle from the outdoor kitchen island, pour us each a messy shot, then down mine before handing him his. He throws it back, then sets it down.
Gripping the curve of my hip, he turns me back around and pushes me against the wall. My fingers trail up his muscular torso and pecks, while he pushes my legs apart, his knee finding my center.