Fire, page 17
“Remember how I told you I never say anything unless I mean it?” I draw the comforter up over her shoulders, gently tucking her in.
“Mhmm.” Nell’s lips part as she slides toward sleep.
“Good. Because I promise you, everything is going to be okay. I won’t let anything bad happen to you ever again, Lightning Girl. And when I say ‘promise,’ you can count on it being true. I will never promise something I can’t make happen.”
A half-smile twitches her lips and I watch as she crosses the line to sleep. Then stand and quietly switch off the light.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Ivy
“Ivy.” A hand touches my shoulder, shaking me lightly. “Ives?”
My eyes crack open, and I blink, trying to clear the sleep out of them enough to focus on what’s happening. “Micah?” I push up on an elbow. “What’s wrong?”
Judging by the softness of the light from the window, it’s early, the sun only just beginning to rise.
“I have to go to work.” His voice is tense and he’s still hovering over me, his hand on my shoulder like he can’t bring himself to let go.
“But it’s your day off.” Frowning, I sit up, my body understanding the implications faster than my brain.
“There’s a fire. A big one in one of the warehouse districts with people trapped inside. The chief called all-hands-on-deck to get it under control. I have to go but you matter more than a silly note on the table, Ivy. I didn’t want you to worry if you woke up before I’m home.”
“But should I?” Adrenaline has me wide awake. “Worry?”
“I’ll be fine. And if I do my job right, everyone else will be too. Go on back to sleep if you can.”
I wipe my face, blinking up at him, finally registering the intensity in his eyes.
Micah’s nervous but trying to hide it.
He presses a kiss into my hair, inhaling deeply. The dramatic part of me worries he’s saying goodbye in case the worst happens, so I tilt my face and press my lips to his. “Come home to me, Micah.”
“You know I will.”
It isn’t until after he leaves that I realize he didn’t say he promised.
Morning becomes afternoon and I don’t hear from Micah. Afternoon becomes evening and I’m a pacing mess, refreshing the local news sites for any info on the fire. The pictures and videos look awful. Huge flames with choking black smoke pouring out of broken windows. Sirens and lights and somewhere in that disaster is Micah.
Grandma invites Nell for an overnight and I happily take her up on the offer. I’m too distracted to be a good mom today. I pack her bags and we play a silly game while we wait for Grandma, then I perch on the couch and continue to refresh news sites after she leaves.
Finally, who knows how long later, I hear Micah’s feet on the steps and race to the door, throwing it open as he reaches the landing.
His face is drawn. His eyes haunted. He smiles, but it’s empty. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”
He pulls me into his arms, holding me close, swaying on the porch as the sun kisses the horizon. He smells of soap and his hair is damp. He must have showered at the station before coming home.
“It looked so bad on the news,” I whisper, and when his eyes hit mine, I know something terrible happened today. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I…” Micah looks tortured. Broken. Like his world is ending and I feel so helpless. “A woman died today,” he says in a low voice. “A mother. A wife. A daughter. I found her in that fire, trapped. I got her out of the building, but I was too late. She’s gone and her family has to deal with that.”
I grip the railing, thinking of him fighting for this woman’s life and having to watch her slip away. “I’m sure you did everything you could…”
“But it wasn’t enough!” Micah stands, hands out, like he’s reaching for me, but then he threads them into his hair. “And through the whole thing, you were all I could think about. I lost you once and it broke me. And now you’re back and this is so wonderful, but I can’t just be your friend. Not when an entire life can end, just like that.” He snaps his fingers and lets out a shaky breath.
His gaze burns into mine, filled with all the things we’ve said and things that still need to be said. I release the rail and move toward him, drawn to him like my heart beats in his chest. Breathless, I take his hands.
Micah stares down at our fingers, running his thumb against my skin. He swallows hard and meets my eyes. “I love you, Ivy. I’ve always loved you. It’s always, always been you. And I’m trying so hard to respect your boundaries, to move at your pace, but what I saw today…” He hangs his head. “The thought of losing you again destroyed me. And what’s worse? I don’t even have you back yet. I’m afraid to move. Afraid to take care of you the way I want to. Afraid to tell you I never wanted this to be a one-time thing or a two-time thing. I don’t want to just be friends! I want you! All of you! But you’ve been through so much, and I’m trying to be what you need, so I keep my mouth shut and sit back, waiting for you to give me the all clear. Because the last time things got hard for us, you broke up with me. No explanations. No warning. You just decided we were done and disappeared.”
Micah turns away, staring at the sky like the answers might be up there and I shake my head.
“You keep saying that, but I didn’t break up with you, Micah. I didn’t.”
He leans on the railing, his jaw set. “You sent me two texts. Two.” He holds up his fingers and lifts his brows. “‘I’m so unhappy. This isn’t working.’ Then nothing. You might as well have fallen off the face of the Earth. That feels a whole lot like breaking up with someone to me.”
Every ounce of oxygen leaves my lungs. I remember those texts and I didn’t send them for the reason he thinks. “That’s not what happened. Not even close.”
“Then what happened, Ives? Because from my point of view, those two texts set this whole misunderstanding in motion. They’re the reason I broke my phone in the first place. And they’re the reason I second guess every move I make with you now.”
I run my hands into my hair, staring back through time and wishing I could warn younger me not to listen to my father. “Remember how Dad kept restricting my phone time?”
As if moving across the country wasn’t hard enough, he was determined to help me adjust by removing my ties to the Keys. First, I could only text from eight to ten in the evening, Seattle time, which was eleven to one in the morning for Micah. Then school started and I wasn’t allowed to have my phone until after homework and chores were done—and somehow my chore list doubled, so I often didn’t have free time until after nine. So I started talking to Micah at school, which made my grades slip, so I wasn’t allowed to have it then, either. Dad swore he was generous to give me one hour of phone time a night, after which I had to plug it in on the kitchen counter so he could “help me help myself.”
It was awful. I was in a new town. A new school. I was lonely and miserable and all I wanted was Micah, but Dad firmly believed I was better off without him.
“One night,” I say, leaning on the railing beside Micah, “I’d finally had enough. I snuck downstairs. It was late, you were asleep, but I was ready to run back to the Keys and live with you if your parents would have me. I managed to send two texts before Dad found me and all hell broke loose.” I lift my eyebrows, waiting for Micah to put the pieces together.
It doesn’t take long. Understanding softens his posture, relaxing his clenched jaw while his fists unfurl.
“After that, he took my phone permanently, locking it in his room ‘for my own good’ until I found out I was pregnant and he withdrew me from school.”
“All this time, I thought you broke up with me.”
“I was begging for help.” I step towards him. “You were my life, Micah. I always thought we’d be together forever.”
Micah stares for a long moment, then draws me into his arms, kissing me deeply. I slide my hands under his shirt and trail my fingers along his skin. He groans, low, guttural, then pauses.
“Where’s Nell?” he whispers.
“She’s spending the night with Grandma.”
“Good. Because I want you. I need you. I…” He shakes his head, then sweeps me into his arms and strides through the house, flicks on the light in his bedroom, and carefully places me on his bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Ivy
Micah’s mouth is everywhere, my lips, my jaw, my throat. There’s an urgency to his touch, mixed with a gentle reverence. The last time we were together, we were frenzied, acting on hormones and chemistry. Tonight feels different.
He lifts my shirt and an unexpected explosion of nerves blast through me. He’s not Julian, I remind myself, but the damage is done.
“Can we turn off the light?” I ask, swallowing a moan.
“I want to see you.” Micah kisses me, and I try to relax, focusing on his hands in my hair, the warmth of his body pressed against mine. He loves me and I love him and that right there is all that matters, but as his hands slide under my shirt, my eyes slam open.
“I’m just more comfortable in the dark.”
Micah stills, then nuzzles my neck, nibbles at my ear, and sits back. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the douche in Seattle, would it? Because something tells me the kind of guy who thinks he can dictate your daughter’s favorite color might also figure out a way to get in your head and fuck up your self-esteem.”
I chew my lip, embarrassed to have ruined the moment, and then tell Micah everything. Julian’s disgust with the smattering of stretch marks on my body. His insistence we keep the light off or I keep my shirt on and my mouth closed. Every stupid, shitty, sneering thing he ever said pours out of me.
Micah looks ready to murder someone as he listens, but his expression has softened by the time I finish.
“Come with me,” he says, carefully taking my hand and leading me into the bathroom. We stop in front of the counter, facing the mirror. Micah stands behind me and, meeting my eyes through the glass, he lifts my shirt over my head, then unhooks my bra. It slips from my shoulders and falls to the floor
Micah kisses my shoulders, my neck, my cheek. He draws his fingers across my skin, so gentle, so kind, so warm and real. “I want you to see yourself the way I see you. This is a beautiful body,” he whispers, tracing his fingers along my collarbones and down my arms.
I chew my bottom lip, my eyes locked on his as he caresses my waist, my stomach, my hips.
“Let me show you what this beautiful body of yours can do.”
My lips part and my breath speeds, holding his heated gaze in mine as he fans the flames of desire. He cups me, sliding a finger inside, his palm tapping my clit, his erection pressing against my ass.
If his words weren’t enough to make me feel beautiful, that hard length is a constant reminder of how much he wants me. I like knowing I do that to him. My breath hitches and a moan builds as I press myself into his palm, eager for more, eager for pleasure, eager for him.
Micah kisses my neck, my back, biting into my shoulder as his dark eyes lock on mine through the mirror. I gasp.
“That’s it. Those are the sounds I love. Let me hear you feel good. Look at what I’m doing to you.” He speeds his pace and I drop my gaze to his hand between my thighs, thrusting and slipping, and holy shit, I’m about to watch myself come on his fingers.
Micah grips me by the hips and bends me over the counter. One hand swirls around my clit from the front while he slips a finger into me from behind. His eyes light up as my back arches and he stares down at his hand thrusting and thrusting and thrusting into me. I watch him enjoy what he’s doing, his eyes dark with lust, with raw delight as he fucks me with first one finger, then two. He licks his lips like he can’t wait to taste me and that’s it. That’s all I can handle. In the mirror, my breasts swing as my eyes flutter closed and my inner walls clench and dance. I sag onto the counter, panting and moaning and shrieking his name.
“That’s it, baby. Look how beautiful you are when you come.” Micah slides a hand around my chest, pulling me upright, so I can watch my body respond to his.
“You’re beautiful, Ivy. So beautiful. Tell me you see it.”
Finally, my orgasm recedes and I lean into him, knees weak, breath spent. Micah meets my eyes through the mirror and smiles, kissing my neck as his erection reminds me this entire event has been one-sided.
“Let me take care of you now,” I say, trying to spin in his arms and get down on my knees to take him into my mouth. “So we’re even.”
“Who cares about even?” Micah laughs, holding me tight. “If I can make you come seven times to my one, then that’s what I’m going to do.”
With a hand between my shoulders, he lowers me down again, the counter cool against my arms as he undoes his pants and steps out of them. I watch his dick spring free, eager as he takes himself in his hand, pumping as he stares between my legs. I watch through the mirror, eyes locked on his as he enters me inch by aching inch. I release a quivering breath as I adjust to being so full, swallowing a groan as his hips hit mine.
And then he’s moving, stroking, stretching, hitting so deep that my keening cries echo through the room. His hands, gripping my hips, pulling me into him over and over, pushing me toward an edge I can’t wait to step off, this sense of undoing as my body sings with pleasure.
“Micah…” I whisper, then my breath hitches and catches and I meet his gaze in the mirror.
He smiles. It’s soft and it’s sweet and it’s made just for me and this is what love feels like.
This.
Him.
Us.
Now.
Forever.
Always.
And suddenly I’m overwhelmed with feeling, everything spinning out of control and I’m shrieking and gasping and making all the sounds I swore I’d never make again. Lost to pleasure. Lost to him. Lost to us, right now forever.
“Fuck,” Micah mutters, his pace speeding. “Oh fuck, Ives…”
“I love you,” I whisper. “I never stopped loving you. I never will.”
With a groan, he finishes, staring into my eyes while words like “destiny” and “fate” and “happily ever after” dance through my mind.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Micah
Sated and pleased, with my heart doing this silly little dance in my chest, I draw a bath in the two-person tub I didn’t think I’d ever use, then head into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses. When I return, bubbles cover the surface of the water, hiding Ivy’s body from view.
“Not fair.” I pout, filling one glass with wine, then the other.
“Come on.” Ivy leans back in the water, the top of her breasts breaking the surface. “A post-sex bubble bath? With wine? What’s more decadent than that?”
“As long as you’re not using the bubbles to hide yourself.” I lower myself into the tub, then pull her against me, so her back rests against my front. I grab a breast in each hand and give them a squeeze. “Because these? These are fucking perfect. I’m gonna make a rule that you walk around naked all the time so I can suck on them whenever I want.”
Ivy leans against me, sipping wine. “I’d get chilly being naked all the time.”
“I’ll turn the heat up. Besides, you’re used to Seattle weather. You said so yourself.”
And just like that, all the rage I felt towards this Julian prick comes boiling back to the surface. That fucking asshole wasn’t content controlling every aspect of her life, but had to go ahead and destroy her self-esteem, too. Breaking her down bit by bit so she wouldn’t have the confidence to leave. That’s the thing about Ivy. She’s stronger than anyone gives her credit for. She did leave. She’s here. With me. Where she belongs.
I press my lips together to keep the shit in my head from spilling out and ruining the evening. “I just want you to know you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I want you to know it and believe it and…” I trail off, unsure how to communicate exactly what’s in my heart.
Ivy’s quiet, and I’d call it a comfortable silence if it wasn’t for my desire to drive to Seattle and punch this asshole in the dick. I kiss the top of her head, silently promising to do everything in my power to restore Ivy’s confidence.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for being everything I thought you were when we were younger.”
“Thank you for coming back to me.” I rest my chin against her head while she draws lazy circles in the bubbles. Peace descends around us, and I feel myself shifting, claiming Ivy as mine rather than Julian’s.
“I’m gonna say something,” I murmur, “and it’s important to me that you really hear me.”
She nods and I take a breath before continuing. “Julian’s hang up with your body has everything to do with him and nothing to do with you. Being judgmental like that? It’s ‘projection as protection’ at its finest. He’s an inadequate fuck and knows it. He cuts you down to make himself feel better.”
“You know what?” Ivy shifts, the water sloshing as she sits up to look me in the eye. “It doesn’t matter anymore. He doesn’t matter anymore. He’s gone. In the past. And the only thing that matters is you and me and Nell, making steps that take us to a better future.”
I lift my glass. “Amen to that.”
She clinks her glass against mine, then drinks, smiling as she swallows. “Do you remember when we were like sixteen, maybe seventeen? I was starting to worry about college, and you had the great idea to make a pact? We promised that no matter what happened, we’d come back to each other. Remember? We even looked up contracts on the internet and signed it to make it official.”
“Of course I remember. That pact is a promise, and you know how I feel about those. My cousins have been making fun of me for years because on some level I always believed you’d come back to me, and we’d end up here.”
