Page 111 of Broken Trails
Xavier’s already walking over. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. He hasn’t shut up about you all night.”
Harrison throws an arm around me and pulls me in for a quick hug. “It’s actually disgusting. Couldn’t shut him up. Everything’s Zoe this, Zoe that.”
I flush, heat crawling up my neck. Michael takes a slow step forward.
“Freckles! You came.”
I shrug, keeping my voice light. “You weren’t exactly subtle.”
He grins. “I don’t do subtle. Not when it comes to you.”
My chest tightens, and I hate how much it does. Because this? This man, drunk and leaning too heavily into the soft parts of himself. He’s dangerous in a way I never expected.
Getting him into the car is a full team effort. Harrison tries his hardest to pick him up and physically put him in the ute. That doesn’t work. Eventually, Michael agrees, but only when he sees me grab the door handle.
“You’re leaving me?” he asks, eyes wide, like I’m about to board a ship and disappear forever.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him.
Big mistake. Because now he’s glued to my side in the back seat of Xavier’s Tacoma, head heavy on my shoulder, his palm splayed low on my thigh. We said goodbye to the others. Xavier and Harrison promised they’d be home soon. Imogen climbed into the front passenger seat. Isla’s driving. And me?
I’m currently regretting everything.
Michael’s long legs take up too much room. He smells like alcohol and something spicy, something distinctlyhim, and I’m trying really hard to ignore the way my pulse is hammering against my skin. He leans forward suddenly and taps Isla on the shoulder. “You’re very pretty, y’know that?”
Isla snorts. “Oh my God. He’s so shit-faced.”
Michael turns to Imogen. “You’re scary, but also pretty.”
Imogen laughs. “Thanks, Mikey. I work hard at both.”
He turns to me, gaze locking with mine in the dark, his voice low, like a whisper, but not nearly quiet enough. “I missed you.”Oh, no.His fingers flex slightly against my thigh. “You look really fucking pretty tonight. Always so sexy.”
I shift uncomfortably. “Michael.”
“I wanna kiss you.”
“Oh myGod,” I mutter, dragging a hand over my face.
Isla bites back a laugh. “I mean, you kind of have to let him now. He’s too far gone to reason with.”
Imogen nods, turning with a huge grin. “Yeah, just let him have his little moment. He’s unwell.”
“Unwell?” I hiss. “He’s feral.”
Michael doesn’t stop. His hand drags higher along my thigh, warm and slow. “You know what I’ve been thinking about?”
“Nope.”
“Your thighs.”
“Michael,” I warn.
He leans in, breath hot against my ear. “Around my face.”
I jump, swatting at his arm. “Oh my God. Michael, we are not alone. Shut your mouth!”
Isla is full-on laughing now, and Imogen’s face is turned to the window. Her shoulders are shaking from how hard she’s trying to hold it in.
