I leave one hand on her back and move the other to her head and hold her against me. “You deserve to be spoiled,” I say, because no one else will except for me. No one’s ever made her feel special, given her birthday presents, taken her to places, and I’m pretty sure neither her mother nor father have told her they love her. That became my job the moment I got her to climb over the fence.
“Feeling better?” I ask her, kissing the top of her head.
“I am,” she says, her hands sliding up my shoulders and hitching around the back of my neck. “But Micha?”
I try to remain calm, but it’s difficult when she’s touching me like this. “Yeah.”
“If you ever kiss me on the lips again without permission,” she says, “I’ll kick you in the balls.”
I snort a laugh. “Okay, sounds fair.”
She pinches the back of my neck and another laugh escapes me. “I’m being serious.”
“I know you are.” And I’m sure she’s telling the truth but I’m just relieved she’s letting it go.
She doesn’t say anything else and I hold on to her until the song finishes. The next song turns on and we keep dancing, not stopping until five more songs have played through. I pull back only when I feel her weight lean heavy against me, like she’s falling asleep. When I look down at her, her eyes are shut and her grip on me is loosening.
“We should probably get you home,” I say, brushing her hair back from her forehead.
She shakes her head with her eyes shut. “I don’t want to go home.”
“Then where do you want to go?” I ask. “Back to my house?”
She yawns. “Can’t we just stay here?”
I stand there while she starts to drift off to sleep in my arms. Finally, I lean her back, slip my arms underneath her legs, and pick her up. She’s too tired to argue with me and instead nestles against me as I carry her back to the car. Then I maneuver the door open and lower us both into the driver’s seat.
“Do you want to get in the backseat?” I ask, sitting her up so I can get my legs in and then shut the door.
She shakes her head. “I just want to sleep right here.”
There’s limited space, but in the end it doesn’t matter how much room there is because she’s in my arms and she wants to be there. So holding onto her, I recline the chair back and lie down. She shifts her weight, so she’s to the side of me, our legs entangled as she rests her head on my chest. As the music continues to play, we drift off to sleep together.
Chapter 18
Present day…
Ella
When I open my eyes to daylight, Micha’s already awake, with my mom’s journal on his lap with the photo of her beside his leg. He’s leaning against the headboard with his boxers on and he’s shirtless so I can see his lean muscles and wisps of his hair dangling across his forehead. There’s an intense look on his face as he reads the pages but when I move to sit up, my head and cheek pulsating in protest, he closes the journal, the intensity shifting to ease.
“Anything good in there?” I ask, clutching the blanket over my bare chest.
He shrugs, but by his frown I can tell he hasn’t found anything that’s happy. He tucks the photo into the journal, marking the page before he puts it aside, and then reaches over to stroke my puffy, tender cheekbone. “We should have put some ice on that last night,” he says. “Seriously, Ella, it looks like it hurts like hell.”
I place my hand over his. “It does hurt like hell.”
“Do you want to tell me how it really happened?” he asks, and when I tense he adds, “I know when you’re lying, Ella May, so don’t try to tell me some girl hit you because I could tell last night that you were full of shit.”
“Then why didn’t you call me out on it?”
“Because I was thinking with my dick and nothing else.”
I smile, thinking about how he pushed me up against the wall and slammed into me so hard I could feel it through my entire body. “My legs actually hurt a little from last night,” I divulge as I move the blankets off me and massage my thighs.
He looks down at my legs with intensity in his eyes. “I could say I feel bad, but I don’t.”
I cover myself back up with the blanket and lie down on the bed. He lies down with me and props his elbow on the pillow and rests his head against his hand.
“I’ll tell you,” I say as his finger strokes my cheek, “but you have to promise me that you won’t do anything about it. No going looking for a fight.”
He stops moving his fingers. “I won’t promise that.”
“Then I won’t tell you.”
“Ella May—”
I cover his mouth with my hand and cut him off. “Don’t ‘Ella May’ me. The last thing I need is a husband who either gets charges pressed against him or ends up seriously injured.”
He pauses and then his lips curve upward beneath my hand. “Say it again.”
“Only if you promise.”
“Fine.” He sighs and my hand leaves his mouth. “I won’t go looking for a fight as long as you’ll tell me what happened and call me your husband again.” He gets this goofy grin on his face that makes me smile.
“All right, husband,” I say, making his smile expand. I take a deep breath and tell him about Mikey. I can see for the entire time that he’s working really hard to control his reaction, his hands balling into fists as he listens.
When I’m finished, he’s quiet for a while, and then he finally says, “Can I at least have Ethan kick his ass?”
I shake my head. “No. Lila doesn’t need him hurt either. Or in jail.”
His jaw is set tight and his eyes linger on my cheek before he blows out a breath. “I really want to beat the shit out of him, Ella May. I swear to God…” He clenches his fists, the muscles in his lean arms tightening.
“I know you do,” I say. “But I don’t want you to.”
“You’re killing me,” he says, aggravated.
“I know, but it’s for the best,” I explain. “Besides, I got a good kick and hit in.”
Ethan lets out a gradual exhale. “Shit, was it because…”
He trails off as Micha hands me a cup of coffee. “Because you two jackasses threw a shake in his car?” he says. “Yep.”
Ethan frowns as he rakes his fingers through his hair, making it stick up on the top. “Hey, it wasn’t my idea.”
“Yeah, it was mine,” I say to Micha, inhaling the aroma of the coffee. “Don’t give him credit for my awesomeness.”
“I’m too hungover for you two to start arguing.” Micha grimaces and then stretches his arms above his head, the bottom of his shirt riding up, flaunting his muscles.