Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
I returned to making breakfast, though even as I began mixing more batter, I was fully engulfed in the conversation that was happening between Micah and the kids. Well, one kid.
Rory kept up a string of questions even after I placed her pancake in front of her. Micah patiently answered every single one and reminded her gently about proper table manners. Christopher, on the other hand, didn't say a word and the few times I glanced his way, he was looking either at his plate or at his feet. Unlike Rory, who was still in the T-shirt I’d given her the night before, Christopher was completely dressed in the street clothes he’d arrived in.
By the time I had pancakes stacked high in front of everybody, things had quieted enough that the kids were focused on their food and Micah was focused on them. He didn't even touch his own food until the kids had finished theirs and he’d confirmed that they’d had enough to eat. I had a feeling it was how most meals likely went for the trio. It would explain why Micah was so thin, while Christopher and Rory were much healthier weights. He’d probably foregone a lot of his own meals to make sure both kids had full bellies.
I began cleaning up the dishes and by the time I had the dishwasher fully stacked, both kids were gone, and it was just me and Micah. I wasn't sure if he had dismissed them or if they’d left on their own. It was likely the former since Christopher didn't seem to like being far from Micah for any reason.
I cursed myself when my eyes fell on Micah's still nearly full plate of pancakes. The guy had gotten the shit beaten out of him less than twenty-four hours earlier and his system was still teeming with the remnants of a lot of medications, and here I was serving him a breakfast fit for kings.
“How about some toast?” I asked as I reached for the plate of uneaten food. I swore I saw a little bit of color stain Micah's cheeks as he gave me a slight nod.
The tension between us continued to be thick and heavy as I fixed Micah’s toast and I wished I could figure out some way to get rid of it. But all I could hear in my head were the words I’d said to him the night before. I still had no idea what had possessed me to admit that I couldn't stop touching him. I might as well have told him letting him go was an impossibility and not just because of the shit-ton of guilt I carried around when it came to him and his brother.
I placed the toast in front of Micah and then went to grab him a second bottle of water after noticing that he was almost done with the first. His moves were slow and pained as he reached for the toast with his good hand and took a bite.
“Did you take your medicine this morning?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
I was surprised that Micah actually responded with a shake of his head. I didn't press him because I knew why he wouldn't take it. He wanted to be more levelheaded as he dealt with his situation.
Despite everything I’d told him the night before about letting him go, I knew I couldn't do it. Yes, there was a big part of me that had selfish reasons for wanting to keep him near, but the reality was that I knew he was in no shape to take care of himself or those kids. And after the homework I’d done, I knew what his future held, and it wasn't good.
Now I just needed to make him understand that.
“Do you have those scrubs the hospital gave you?” Micah asked as he took another bite of the toast and then pushed the plate away.
“They’re in the wash,” I fibbed. They weren’t in the wash, but technically they were in the dryer and just needed to be pulled out and folded. But if I told him that, he’d be gone and this conversation would never happen.
Micah looked completely crestfallen. “Do you have a T-shirt or something I can wear until they’re clean?”
I nodded and said, “Yeah, sure.”
I went around the counter and headed to my bedroom. I began rifling through my undershirts since they would be slightly smaller than my regular T-shirts. I was surprised to find that Micah was waiting for me in the doorway of the bedroom. When I approached him with the shirt he didn't move, and my body automatically went on high alert. Even though he was considerably underweight, I still couldn't get past how beautiful he was. I wanted to touch every piece of smooth skin I could get my fingers on. I wanted to learn the curve of his shoulders, his hips, even his damn ankles. I wanted to know what made him laugh. I wanted to know what he sounded like saying my name when he was nearly breathless with pleasure.