Page 39 of The Secret
“Pssht.Okay, wait. There are many things I’m guilty of, but thosewereyour hands on me, right? You don’twantto want me, but you do,” I reminded him. “I admit that I shouldn’t have done it, for all the reasons I said. But after the first second you were right there with me! I was hardly pushing you or corrupting you or whatever.” I was pretty sure, anyway.God, let me be sure ofsomething.“Right?”
Micah’s eyes softened and he sighed. Like he pitied me.
I might literally vomit.
“Yes, I want you! Jesus Christ, of course I want you. Three quarters of the people on this earth wantyou, and if there are sentient beings in outer space,they want you, too. Wanting you is not the issue.”
“Wanting to want me is.” I rolled my eyes. “I know. I get it.Nowcan we stop talking?”
“You know what I think, Constantine?” He leaned even closer.
I rolled my eyes and folded my arms over my chest, purposely not letting him crowd me. “I know you’re gonna tell me.”
“I think you use sex to deflecta lot. And guess what? I amnotgoing to be another guy you fuck around with.”
He sounded so self-righteous, I wanted to hit him. And it occurred to me that never before in my entire life had I found myself painfully aroused and violently angry at the same time.
This was a special new low.
“Oh for God’s sake.” I pushed at his chest with both hands and felt a rush of victory when I pushed him back a pace. “You think you’resosmart andsoobservant, Micah? You don’t knowshit.”
He shook his head, patient and calm, like I was a little kid throwing a tantrum. His erection was still tenting the front of his pants, and mine was too, but unlike me, he was as emotionally engaged as if we were discussing cereal choices at the grocery store. How could he turn off and on like that? It wasinfuriating.
I pushed him again.
“You think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”
Micah’s chin went back. “A little. I think you’re afraid to talk about real shit. I think you put on a mask sometimes. I think it’s easier for you to pretend you don’t care what other people think of you than for you to challenge assumptions.”
I had no argument against any of that, and that was evenmoreinfuriating.
I lifted my hands to push him again, but this time he grabbed my wrists.
“I also think you’d better calm the fuck down and not put your hands on me again, Constantine.”
“Orwhat?” I demanded. “You don’t get to be in control of everything, Micah. You don’t get to decide how I feel or how I act! And you know what? I think I scare the shit out ofyoufor that exact reason.”
Micah pushed me back by the wrists and I stumbled back a pace. The desk caught me in the back of the legs and knocked me backward.
“I’m not going to let you provoke me into doing something impulsive just because you’re in a shit moodfor reasons I can’t fathom because you won’t share them.”
I sucked in a shuddering breath and stared at him, at his set jaw, at the exasperation and concern in his green eyes. I was pushing too hard, wanting too much, always too much emotion and too little sense.
“Fuck.” I was horrified to find tears stinging the backs of my eyes, and I looked away before they could fall or, worse, before he could see them. “You know what? Record this, because I’m only gonna say it once: you’re right. I’m wrong.” I pushed myself upright and stepped away from the desk. “And I’m sorry. I think I’m overtired. Or possibly I’ve been taken over by an alien.” I made myself laugh as I turned toward the workroom. “Is it aliens that take people over? Or is that demons? I always forget.”
“Constantine—” Micah called.
“No.” I shook my head. “You want me to talk about everything that’s wrong with me,” I said without turning around. “But you don’t get that Ican’ttalk. I just… I can’t fuckingtalk. I open my mouth to speak, and what comes out is a joke or something hateful.”
I grabbed my keys from the workbench and kicked at the leg of the tablehard, sending flowers and wire cutters crashing to the floor. I sucked in a breath through my nose. “I don’tknowwhat I think, and I don’tknowhow I feel, except very tired and very, very…angry.So I’m gonna take my ass home—” I thought of my mother and cringed at the idea of going back to that house for round two. “Or possibly to Disney World. Or Outer Mongolia. Or outerspace. Someplace not here.”
I scrubbed at my eyes, trying to erase the moisture, but it just kept building. I clenched my hand around the keys so hard I could feel the metal pressing against the bumps and edges in my bones, and one of them would yield eventually, but who knew which one?
“I’ll make up the hours another day, assuming I still have a—Oof.”
The breath left my lungs in a whoosh as I was suddenly pinned face-first against the stainless-steel refrigerator next to the workbench by a very large, very hard body.
“Micah?” I croaked, bucking my back. “Get the fuck off me!”
