The Secret 02 The Forever of Ella and Micha (15 page)

Micha shakes his head dramatically and I swear he’s being a pain in the butt on purpose. “Nah, I really think this place looks good.”

Lila and I trade a worried look as Micha and Ethan hop out of the car and slam the doors, leaving us alone in the dark cab.

“This is not good,” I mumble, eyeing Micha as he walks around to the back of the truck. He tips his head back and takes a swig from a bottle. “Especially since he’s in such a bad mood.”

“I think he’s drunk,” Lila whispers as I crack the door open. “I thought I smelled booze on his breath.”

I exhale loudly. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he is, which means we’re probably walking into a drama pit.”

“Are you sure Blake’s working still?” Lila slides over in the seat so she can climb out on my side.

I nod. “We have to pick him up, remember?”

The four of us walk across the parking lot toward the entryway. It’s dark enough that the stars are speckling the sky, and in the distance, the strip’s lights glimmer in florescent colors. There’s a sway to Micha’s walk and he trips over his own feet when he jumps up to touch the top of the doorway, rolling his ankle when he lands.

“Yep, we’re definitely walking into a drama pit,” I utter under my breath as Ethan swings the door open.

Inside the restaurant the lights are dim and the air is musty. It’s crowded and noisy, but there are a few vacant booths. Little lanterns hang above each table and soft country music flows from the speakers.

Blake is serving shots from behind the bar to a group of rowdy-looking guys. I clear my throat and make eye contact with Lila, nodding my head discretely in Blake’s direction. She tracks my gaze and her expression drops.

“Hold on, I got an idea.” She waltzes up to the hostess, a brunette in a white shirt and black slacks. Lila sneaks her a tip from over the counter and then she comes back with a cheery smile on her face.

“It’s all taken care of,” she says in a quiet voice. “And yes, I know I’m the bestest friend ever.”

“What did you do?” I ask, but she just keeps smiling.

When the hostess leads us to our table, I realize Lila bribed her to take us to a corner booth that is secluded away and out of sight of the bar. I want to hug her, but it would be weird, so I sit down and Lila slides in beside me.

Ethan pauses at the end of the other side of the booth. “No way, I’m not buddying it up with Micha. Lila can sit on my side.”

Lila glances at me. “Is that okay with you?”

My nerves jumble and it shows in the unsteadiness of my voice. “I think I—”

“I don’t give a shit where I sit.” Micha’s eyes stray to the end of the aisle. “In fact, I think I’m going to go hang out at the bar.”

Lila jumps up and scurries to the other side to sit with Ethan, inserting strands of her hair underneath the headband. Micha falls into the booth beside me and drapes an arm behind me. He has a short-sleeved gray shirt on and his warm skin grazes the back of my neck. His face looks flushed and his breath reeks of vodka.

Shielding my face with the menu, I lean toward him and whisper, “You’re drunk.”

He blinks his eyes at me innocently. “Why would you ever think that?”

I state the obvious. “Because you smell like vodka.”

“I threw back a few shot before we headed out and a few in the parking lot.” He places the palm of his hand on top of my thigh. “Relax, I just want to have some fun.”

“That’s not why you did it.” I lower the menu back onto the table. “You only drink randomly when you’re upset.”

He rolls his eyes and withdraws his hand from my leg. “How do you know? Maybe I changed while I was on the road.”

“Oh, so douche bag Micha’s going to come out,” I hiss through my teeth. “There’s another reason I know you’re upset. He makes his grand appearance only when you’re angry.”

With his eyes on me, he flips open his menu. “I’m upset because my dick hasn’t gotten any attention for a couple of weeks.”

Ethan snorts a laugh and Lila’s blue eyes widen. I drop my head onto the table, sigh, and stay that way until the waiter comes to take our orders. Raising my head from the table, I discover Blake standing at the end of our table.

He’s wearing a nice pair of jeans, a button-down black shirt, and wisps of his dark hair are sticking up a little on the sides. “Ella, what are you doing here?”

“Getting something to eat.” I keep my tone light, hoping we can skip the introductions.

He has a pen poised against a notebook. “What? You just couldn’t wait to pick me up tonight?” he jokes. “You had to come see me early?”

“Aw, damn it.” I don’t mean to say it aloud, but it slips out, and I quickly slap a hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Micha asks, glaring at Blake.

“I’m Blake,” he replies, adjusting his weight uneasily. “Who are you?”

“I’m Micha.” A malicious look masks his face. “And by that look on your face, I think you know Ella and I are dating.”

“Micha, I think—” I start.

“Ella, just leave it alone,” Ethan interrupts, shooting me a warning look as he nudges my shin with his foot from under the table. “You know it’s not even worth it to try.”

I zip my lips together and focus on the menu. “I think I’ll have a chicken sandwich. What about everyone else?”

“I’ll have you,” Micha says and my cheeks heat as his hand inches up my thigh.

I conceal my hand over his and stop it from going any farther, then look at Ethan for help. “What should we do with him?”

Micha buries his face in my hair. “Anything you want, baby.”

Ethan shrugs and tosses his menu into the center of the table. “You know as well as I do that he’s only going to get more intense before he passes out.”

“I think I’ll come back in a minute,” Blake says and hurries down the aisle back toward the bar.

“Smart move on his part.” Micha sticks his hand into his pocket and reveals a mini bottle of vodka stashed inside it.

I snatch it from his hand and his glazed eyes snap cold. “Give me that back, pretty girl, or else.”

“Or else what?” I chuck the bottle to Ethan and he catches it. “You’re going to say really mean things? I’d rather you use me as your punching bag than someone else.”

Micha narrows his eyes at me and I wait for what’s coming, but Ethan stands up before he can say anything else.

“Let’s take him home.” Ethan steps back and lets Lila out of the booth. “Before he does something stupid.”

I’ve seen Micha like this a couple times and there’s always an underlining reason, but getting to the bottom of it can be tricky. Even for his best friend.

It’s dark and no one has the porch lights on in this section of the complex. I can barely see anything as Ethan fights to get Micha up the stairs.

“Just quit dragging your feet,” Ethan snaps as they trip to the side and Micha bangs into the railing and the whole stairway vibrates.

“If you’d just get out of my way.” Micha shoves Ethan to the side and attempts to take a step on his own, but misses. “Then I’d be okay.”

“What should we do?” Lila asks from a few steps below, uncomfortable with the situation.

Sighing, I intervene, positioning myself in between Micha and Ethan. “Put your arm around me.”

Micha gladly swings his arm around my shoulder and leans on me. I struggle to get him up the stairs and his weight nearly sinks me to the floor. Ethan dashes up in front of us to unlock the door, flipping the porch light on.

Micha buries his face into my hair and his teeth nick the top of my ear. “You smell so fucking good. I swear to God, I want to eat you up.”

I contain the laughter tickling at the back of my throat. “What you need to do is sleep.”

Ethan holds the door open and Micha and I stumble over the threshold, nearly falling to the floor. We regain our balance, and as soon as the door’s shut, Micha wrestles his shirt off and chucks it onto the floor.

Even though he’s drunk and we’re not supposed to be on that path, my gaze moves across his lean muscles, his smooth skin, and the tattoo tracing his rib cage, and something coils deep inside me.

He slips off his boots and belt and I’m worried his pants are coming off next. Lila promptly faces the corner, pretending to be engrossed in the blank screen of the television. Micha keeps his pants on, though, and staggers into the kitchen, reaching for the half-empty bottle of vodka on the counter.

“Oh no you don’t.” I rush into the kitchen, steal the bottle away from him, and screw the cap back on. “No more drinks for you, unless it’s water.”

“I’ll do whatever the hell I want, Ella May,” he says sharply as he moves back and his head bumps against the counter. “That’s what you do. Whatever you want. Push me away.”

I hold out my hands for him to take. “Come with me and we’ll get you into bed.”

He stares at me forcefully. “Are you coming too?”

I nod, keeping our gazes connected. “But only to get you there, and then I have to go home.”

He places his hands in mine, gripping them tightly, and I walk backward, guiding him down the hall. His bloodshot eyes are fastened on me and it’s hard to keep my heart steady.

I tell myself repeatedly that the friendship line between us needs to stay and that he’s drunk anyway. When I get him into his room, he collapses onto the bed, yanking me down with him intentionally. He vice-grips his legs around mine and hugs his arms around my chest, pinning me close to him as he burrows his face into my neck and he nips at my skin before stilling.

I squirm my arms and wiggle my legs, but he only constricts his grip. Panic rushes inside me the longer he keeps me trapped and I loathe my messed-up head.

“No way,” he breathes, nuzzling closer. “I’m not letting you go.”

“Ethan,” I call out quietly, working to keep my voice composed. “Can you come in here?”

Moments later, Ethan appears in the doorway and braces his hands on the door frame. The sleeves of his black hoodie are rolled up, showing the colorful tattoos on his arms. “Did you need something?” He grins, entertained at the sight of us.

I jerk my shoulder upward. “Can you help me get him to let me go?”

Rubbing his scruffy jawline, he considers my request. “I think it’s better if you stay there. That way if he wakes up still drunk you’ll have to deal with him.”

“Ethan,” I hiss, but he walks away, laughing to himself.

I call out for Lila a few times, but she never responds, and I wonder if Ethan told her she could go home. After a lot of squirming, I manage to get one arm free. I rub my tired eyes, watching Micha and listening to him breathe in and out. I run my fingers through his hair and then trace a finger down his temple to his lips.
God, he’s beautiful.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” I whisper, returning my hand to my side.

He breathes softly, his breath caressing my cheek. I surrender the idea of getting away and kiss his forehead before snuggling up to him with a small smile. Next time I visit my therapist, I can tell her I was hugged for ten hours straight.

I open my eyes to Ella sleeping soundly in my arms, with one of my hands on her hip and the other just below her breast. I’d be extremely happy, but my head is pounding, my stomach burns, and I have no idea what the hell happened last night—what I did or said.

Carefully, so not to wake her up, I climb out of bed and go into the bathroom. The room spins and my brain feels like it’s going to explode inside my skull.

After I puke my guts out, I brush my teeth and return to the room. Ella’s awake, sitting up in the bed and leaning against the headboard.

“How are you feeling?” A tiny bit of amusement glistens in her eyes.

“You think my pain is funny?” I crawl onto the bed and lie down on my stomach with the taste of vomit burning at the back of my throat. “What the hell happened last night?”

Her fingertips travel up and down my bare back in circular motions. “Well, it started with you drinking half a bottle of vodka and it ended with you trapping me in your bed.”

I raise my head up and cock an eyebrow at her. “Did we…”

She shakes her head and lowers her body down so she’s lying on her side next to me. “You just wouldn’t let me go. You’re kind of evil when you get that drunk.”

“Did I say mean things to you?”

“No, but you tried to start a few fights.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, frowning. “For whatever I did.”

Her big green eyes blink at me. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to tell me what’s up.”

“Nothing’s up,” I lie, looking away. “I just went a little overboard.”

“You know, this isn’t fair.” She tugs on my arm and I look at her. “You make me tell you everything and when I won’t, you chase me down, pin me down, or tease me until I give in to you.”

“You could always try that,” I tell her in a low, husky voice. “It might be interesting to see how it goes. In fact, I dare you to try.”

Her body goes rigid. “Micha, just talk to me.”

I shake my head stubbornly. “I told you to try to make me first and then maybe I will.”

She bites down on her bottom lip, contemplating, and then pushes on my shoulder, forcing me to roll onto my back. I could easily win this battle, but that’s not the point. She sits up and swings a leg over me. Her messy auburn hair curtains our faces and her eyeliner is smeared, but she’s still gorgeous.