Page 93 of She Likes It, Hey Micah
Houston’s on his own by the time we make it outside, though Tamlin waits at the curb not too far away. He seems relieved when he sees us as if he wants nothing more than a distraction from whatever conversation he just had with her.
“I wanted to talk about Saturday,” I tell him.
He smiles. “Perfect. Tell me all about this event so I know what I’m getting into. Spare no details.”
Yep, he definitely wants a distraction, and though Fischer growls again, I figure he can be patient a little longer while I help my brother stop thinking about how much he’s into the woman he claims to hate.
***
The drive back to my apartment is quiet, which I expected. What I didn’t expect was the way Fischer holds my hand so tightly, like he’s afraid to let go. He’s clearly got a lot of things running through his mind right now, and I’m guessing none of them have anything to do with Saturday’s reopening. He and I pretty much have the event on lockdown.
I think he’s thinking about us.
“Why were you in Santa Fe?” I ask.
His fingers curl even more tightly around mine. “I went to see my parents.”
That is not the answer I expected. “Really?”
Smiling, he nods. “Someone convinced me to work on the relationships I have in my life before I lose them.”
“Is that why you’ve been so…” I’m not sure how to put it into words, so I use his own. “Why you’re making all the moves?”
He slowly lifts my hand to his lips, keeping his eyes on the road. “Partially. Mostly, you’ve gotten under my skin and driven me crazy.”
I’m not sure if that is a compliment or a complaint. “Sorry?”
“Don’t be. I needed a jumpstart to my life. I was drowning before I met you. I’d forgotten how it felt to stop and smell the roses.”
“While I love a good metaphor as much as the next person, I’m not sure what this has to do with your parents.”
He pulls into the parking lot of my building and turns the car off, leaving us in a thick silence. “Apparently my dad had a heart attack almost a year ago, and I had no idea,” he says quietly, shaking his head. “He could have… He’s okay, though. My mom stayed by him while he recovered, and they figured out that they do actually love each other. Today was like they were newly married, and I’d never seen them like… What if he’d died?” He frowns. “What if he’d stayed healthy? What if they spent their whole lives treating each other like coworkers?”
I’m honestly amazed he’s kept this to himself all night, with the way it’s clearly bothering him now.
He keeps talking, even though I have so many things I want to say to him. “Before I met you, I was at rock bottom. Worse than that. My business partner, Miranda…” He sighs. “I thought I was in love with her.”
Oh, I don’t like that. Especially when her mature, businessy face pops into my head from my internet search. Of course he was in love with her. She’s exactly the sort of woman a guy like Fischer would go for. She’s very much not like me.
Fischer glances over at me and frowns even deeper. “ThoughtI was in love,” he repeats. He brushes a finger against my cheek. “I was so wrong. You opened my eyes. It’s not that I’m not capable of love. I just didn’t know what it looked like until it was staring me in the face with those alluring, forget-me-not blue eyes of yours.” He pulls his eyebrows together and touches my cheekbone. “I have never seen eyes like yours. You see me in a way no one ever has before, and…”
My heart leaps into my throat, blocking off my ability to speak. And stupid tears make it really hard for me to see the expression on his face even though I’ve never wanted to see anything more in my life.
“Micah,” he says.
“Kiss me,” I beg.
His mouth finds mine, soft and warm, as his fingers tuck around my neck and pull me closer. His kiss is so simple, but everything inside me reacts like it’s anything but. All the butterflies, sparks, fireworks—they’re all there doing a choreographed dance of celebration. I’ve kissed plenty of men over the years, and many of those kisses were a lot more intense than this one. But nothing—I repeat,nothing—compares to the way Fischer makes me feel.
He pulls away just enough to end the kiss, pressing his forehead to mine.
“I told you.” I can barely get the words out because he’s left me breathless. “It’s not possible for us to have a bad kiss.”
He laughs softly, brushing my cheek with his thumb. “You’re basing your theory off of one kiss? Though, I’ll admit, it was better than good.”
“Technically two kisses. But you’re right. I probably need more data.”
To my utter delight, he agrees, pressing his lips to mine once again. A shudder runs through me, and Fischer must take that as a sign that I’m cold because he slides his arm under my legs and lifts me up, pulling me into his lap and cradling me close as he continues to kiss me.
