The Forever of Ella and Micha
Page 21

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.
Chapter 11
Micha
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.
She works to keep a straight face. “Now tell me why you were so upset last night.”
“Nah, I’m good,” I say. “I think I’ll keep it to myself.”
Her hands come down on my shoulders roughly and she tightens her legs around my waist, accidentally rubbing against me and making my cock go hard. “Please just tell me.” She bats her eyelashes and it’s ridiculously adorable.
“Alright, I’ll tell you.” I sneak my hands onto her hips and knead my fingers into her skin. “But for the record, I never bat my eyelashes at you.”
She smiles proudly. “I know. That was my secret trick. You were always a sucker for it.”
My hands move around and grope her backside. “Are you telling me you played me?”
“Don’t change the subject,” she says, allowing me to leave my hands where they are. “Tell me what got you so upset last night.”
“My father has some kind of weird disease.” I let out a breath, feeling the heaviness crumble. “And he needs me for some blood marrow transplant thing.”
Her face drains to a ghostly white. “Is he… is he going to be okay?”
I nod. “Yeah, it’s not life threatening or anything, but I…”
“But you what?” she urges me to continue, massaging my shoulders with her thumbs.
I look away from her and stare at the crack in the wall. “I don’t want to do it for him. I want him to suffer and I feel like shit because of it. I mean, am I that big of a dick that I’d let him be sick, just because I’m pissed off?”
She relaxes her weight on me as her lips twitch to turn upward. “That’s way you’re upset? Because you feel guilty for being angry with him?”
“Why does it sound like you think that’s funny?” My gaze settles back on her. “It’s not funny.”
“It’s not.” She struggles to maintain a stoic face. “It’s just that… you’re adorable. You’re upset because you feel bad for thinking badly.”
“Don’t ever call me adorable.” I squeeze her ass and her body tenses closer to me, making me even harder. “No guy ever wants to be called that.”
Laughter flees her lips as she unintentionally wiggles against my hard-on. “I don’t care. You are. You are so adorable, Micha Scott. I don’t think there’s another guy in the whole world who’s as sweet as you.”
I give her a cold, hard stare. “You want to see how nice I am?” With one rapid movement, I flip us over, so her warm body is underneath me. My stomach burns, but I choke the nauseated feeling down. “If you keep calling me adorable, I’m going to flip you over and show you how manly I really am.” Her lips part in shock and her cheeks turn pink. I place my hand on her cheek and let my thumb drag below her eye. “Now that’s adorable.”
Her body quivers beneath me, but her voice is composed. “So what are you going to do? About your dad?”
I lean back, but still keep her hips trapped between my legs. “I always knew what I was going to do. I was just having an inner conflict with the crappy thoughts filling up my head.”
“So you’re going to help him.”
“Yeah, I’m going to help him.”
Her chest heaves up and down as her vast eyes gaze up at me. “It’s really hard just being friends with you.”
Her bluntness stuns me and I consider ripping her clothes off and making love to her right now. “What do you want me to do with that statement because I have thousands of ideas.”
She offers me a tight smile. “I don’t want you to do anything yet. I just wanted you to know that that’s how I feel—that you make me feel that way. I’m supposed to be working on sharing my feelings.”