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)
“Morning,” I murmured against his mouth.
“Afternoon,” Micah corrected. His hands were resting on my shoulders. I’d had enough sense to grab a shirt on the way downstairs, but now I was kind of regretting it because it would've felt good to have his skin against mine. That would be something I’d have to remedy tonight.
I just hoped like hell he was on board with that. Now that I'd had him in my bed, or rather in his bed, I knew once wouldn't be enough. I knew I'd never sleep well again without him in my arms.
“Sorry, someone kept me up all night talking,” I responded.
Micah laughed and gave me a gentle shove. “Your breakfast is in the microwave,” he said.
I forced myself to release him and went to the microwave.
“Where are the kids?” I asked.
“Outside.”
It was all so domestic but I loved every second of it. Micah had asked me the night before what my plans were for my career since my upcoming fight would be my last. I hadn't had an answer for him because I didn't really know myself. I'd been inundated with different opportunities, but none had felt right. Maybe I was just reluctant to commit to anything at this point. But as I reached to press the reheat button on the microwave, I knew.
“This,” I heard myself say.
“This what?” Micah asked.
I turned around and saw that he was watching me.
“This is what I want,” I admitted. “I want to wake up like this every morning. Preferably with you by my side, but if you managed to sneak out of our bed, I want to be able to do this.”
“What? Eat breakfast?”
I smiled. I could tell Micah was joking. The mere fact that he felt comfortable enough around me to do so was proof of how far he’d come in the past several weeks.
Color stained his cheeks as he said, “Me too.”
It was just that simple.
And yet it wasn't.
Just because we wanted the same thing didn't mean we could have it. Our lives were as far apart as they could be, not to mention the elephant that would likely always be in the room—what I’d done to his brother. As much as I wanted to believe we could get past it, I wasn’t certain we really could.
I wanted to make plans with him.
I wanted to make promises that I had every intention of keeping, but I knew he wasn't prepared to hear them. Not after one night together.
I sighed and turned back around. When the microwave beeped, I removed the plate that was piled high with scrambled eggs and bacon and made my way to the table and sat down. Micah appeared with a fork and knife and then he was rummaging around in the refrigerator for one of the bottled protein shakes I usually drank as soon as I finished eating.
“I'll make you a fresh pot of coffee,” he said.
I practically shoveled the food into my mouth both because it was delicious and I was starving. I was glad when Micah placed a cup of coffee in front of me and then sat down kitty-corner to me with his own cup of coffee. With any other guy, I would've been itching to escape the morning-after talk, but as nervous as I was to be having it with Micah, I was also glad it was happening.
I needed to know where I stood.
I needed to know that last night hadn’t been a one-night thing.
I needed confirmation that he felt what I was feeling.
“Are you leaving for Vegas today?” Micah asked. I was in the middle of taking a sip of coffee at the question, so I nearly choked on it in surprise.
“What? No,” I said as I took in Micah's worried expression.
“You're not?”
I shook my head. “No. I mean, I have to be there in a couple of weeks to start training, but no, not today.”
Micah nodded but didn't say anything. I tried to read his expression, but he dropped his eyes and began toying with the handle of his coffee cup. My nerves kicked in as I realized maybe I’d been wrong about the night before.
“I guess we should talk about what happens next,” I murmured.
Micah nodded. Then he was pulling a piece of paper from his pocket and placing it in front of me. “I think I've got everything on there, but maybe you can make sure I didn't miss anything.”
My gut sank as I unfolded the paper and took in the rows and columns that were filled with numbers. It was a tally sheet of how much Micah owed me for everything I’d bought him and the kids. But he’d taken it a step further and included things like the cost of food and even rent. The other column represented the salary he and I had agreed upon.