Page 60 of Pucked Up

His lips twitched into a smile, his nose wrinkling. “Yeah, you seem like an instructions kind of guy. Were you a teacher before you were a coach?”

“Yes, but of adults. Not a fan of children.”

He burst into laughter. “Fuck, yeah. Me either. My younger brother has kids, and even when he ties bells around their fucking necks, I’m always tripping over them.”

“Bells? Like a dog collar?”

“Like a cat collar,” Micah said. “You know, so we can hear the little shits. He’s blind too. Family thing, genetics, blah blah. It’s not that interesting.”

It was clear he didn’t want me to ask. He probably got entitled assholes asking him far too many personal questions. I remembered it well with Reid the first few times we ventured out of the rehab center in his new chair. It had been…a lot.

“Anyway,” Micah said loudly, “basically just let me take your arm, stay a step ahead of me, walk normally. And I mean that. Walk fucking normal, and don’t let me smack into benches or poles. But also warn me about poles and benches and steps and shit. I’ll have to drag my suitcase, so I can’t use my cane, and yeah. If it’s crowded?—”

“It’s not that bad,” I assured him. It was just past five in the morning. It was crowded, but not so bad we couldn’t navigate around. “But I promise I will do my absolute best.”

He relaxed a fraction. “Sweet. Yeah. Cool, cool, cool…”

“Has someone hurt you in a crowd before?” I asked before I could stop myself.

His jaw tensed, and his brows furrowed. “Define hurt?”

“I think you know what I mean. And you can tell me to fuck off if the question is too personal.”

He grinned, huffing a laugh in the back of his throat. “I like you.”

“Oh, ah…”

“Not like that. Just…you’re cool. I see why everyone’s into your whole French Daddy thing.”

“Mywhatthing?”

“God, you need a thorough education so you can live up to your potential. But never mind that for now. I have been, in fact, abandoned in a few crowds. Once at Disney because my date was a jackass. Once by my mom at the mall during the Christmas season because my little brother was having a total meltdown, and she was so overwhelmed she forgot I was standing there. I’ve been blind my entire life, so I have ways of dealing with the world, right? But in the middle of, like, hundreds of people? It’s fucking terrifying.”

“I can imagine,” I said quietly.

The car rolled to a stop before Micah could go on. He clutched his cane tightly as he felt for the door handle, and I climbed out, walking to the trunk for our bags. The ride was paid on the app, so I waved at the driver, then met Micah, who was a little pale, at the curb.

“There’s a few dozen people shuffling around,” I told him as I touched the back of his hand with his suitcase handle. “Inside the doors, I see more people, but it’s not as bad as an airport. The food court will probably be the most busy, and we can stop for a coffee if you need something.”

He swallowed heavily, then nodded. “Mm, I probably should not have any caffeine. I really want to just crash out, pun intended.”

I didn’t understand the pun, but I wasn’t going to ask. “Okay.”

He shuffled closer to me. “Thank you, by the way. That helped. The…the crowd thing. Letting me know. It sounds silly, but…yeah.”

“It doesn’t.” I brushed his arm with my elbow, and after some shuffling of his things between his hands, he took the back of my arm, and we made our way inside.

Check-in was easy. The station really wasn’t as bad as I’d been afraid of, and while the food court was busy, the few places open that early didn’t have any lines. But we had a suite, which meant we’d get free room service and use of the dining car, so I skipped it all, and we headed to board.

Micah stayed close to my side, his fingers an iron grip around my bicep, but the more things went smoothly, the more he relaxed. He made a few jokes and flirted with a couple of the passengers beside us waiting to get on the train. His charisma was fascinating and almost contagious.

I saw why everyone worried about him but why they loved him anyway.

Luckily, we didn’t have long to wait before we were boarded, bags stowed, and comfortably sat in our seats. The suite had two benches that turned into beds, but Micah seemed content to curl up against the side, temple pressed against the window, wrapped in a thick hoodie.

“Sorry for being shit company,” he said softly.

“You’re the furthest thing.”

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