Page 165 of Drown Like Heaven
“Get in your seat. I’ll show you.”
I slid across the smooth leather of the bench seat over to my side of the cab, my eyes still lingering on his profile. Obediently, I rested my hands in my lap, keeping them to myself. Micah started reversing, the heel of his hand pushing on the steering wheel while he maneuvered the truck out of the parking spot.
I flipped down the visor to make sure my makeup wasn’t smudged in the little mirror, but writing on the vinyl caught my attention instead. It was very faded, probably old permanent marker.
A+K FUCK
“What is this?” I asked, pointing to the old writing.
Micah glanced over. “Oh. I got this truck used. I tried to scrub it off—as you can probably tell, but whatever. I don’t ever see it.” He leaned over, inspecting the writing better. “Yeah, I don’t know what it means. I honestly forgot it was there.”
“Alright.” I laughed nervously. “I worried it was your secret girlfriend who wrote it—but I guess your name starts with anM, so that doesn’t make sense anyway.”
“Yeah. Lay down,” Micah said, eyes narrowing on the few other faculty members shuffling towards their cars.
Butterflies dipped around in my stomach as I laid on my side, resting my cheek on his thigh. His quad was warm through his pants, adding to the heated blush staining my skin. He wrapped a possessive hand around my jaw, fingertips brushing my mouth.
I darted my tongue out to lick the tip of his finger, twisting my head so I could see his face when I bit down lightly. He didn’t seem to mind.
The most nerve-wracking part of Micah was how well he seemed to understand me—he wasn’tsimilarto me, but he knew my soul in a way. It was as if he already held all the keys to all my secrets, and could unlock them whenever he desired. He owned pieces of me I’d never even given names to.
And I felt sick with guilt whenever I thought about the fact that I’d texted Mason to pick me up right after having sex with Micah. I’dliedto him so I could run into the arms of a different man.
I turned my head back, rubbing my cheek on his pants, attempting to forget all the awful things I’d done.
When we finally rolled to a stop a while later, we were parked at a trailhead. It was only a few minutes from my favorite beach, and I considered telling Micah that, but I decided against it.
“It’s not a long hike. You’ll be fine in what you have on.” Micah motioned to my jeans and platform Docs as he helped me out of the truck. I looked down at myself, then back at him. “Or I’ll carry you. Let’s go.”
I stared at the entrance to the forest like it held all the answers. Tall evergreens towered over the trail, beckoning me, calling to me like a familiar place, even though I’d never been here.
The trees were damp with rain, clear droplets sliding off the tips of their branches and plummeting to the damp ground. Gray clouds filled the sky, hanging low and moving on the wind. A few birds took flight above our heads, wings flapping and feathers rustling, their caws piercing the air.
Micah and I walked past the boundary of the trees together.
Shadows pooled between springy ferns and fallen logs, and a few shafts of light broke through the canopy, muted and silvery, illuminating the moss-laden branches that hung low, dripping. It’d rained this morning, and everything was quieter now because of it. The air smelled like cedar and earth and wet stone.
Micah pulled me forward over soft pine needles that swallowed the sound of our footsteps until the path got muddy, then he hoisted me onto his back. I rested my cheek on his shoulder, swaying with his even steps, his steady breathing soothing me.
I could hear the ocean before I could see it, the waves crashing on the sand and rocks, the wind racing over its tumultuous surface, saltwater spray carrying on the breeze.
We reached a clearing where the trees broke apart for open sky, a sheer drop leading down to the ocean at the edge of the jutting piece of earth we stood on. There was a large rock and Micah set me down on my feet, bringing me around to sit on the rock with him. I flattened my hands on the rough surface, the wind tugging at my hair and clothes, smelling of salt. It was colder here.
I liked the contrast, the closeness of the forest pressing in and the sudden infinity of the sea.
“Is this what you wanted to show me?”
“Yes,” Micah confirmed.
“It’s pretty.”
“It represents something I’ll never be able to undo,” he said, staring out at the slate gray waves, flecked with foam. “Itreminds me of all my past choices, and to be cautious with my future ones.”
I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I didn’t say anything. My hands wrapped around his arm, my head leaning on his shoulder. If he wanted me to know, he’d tell me.
“I regretted it for a long time,” he continued after a minute of silence.
“And now?”
