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“I’m sure I could get a restaurant to make an exception for me.”
“Oh, well, I don’t like to make a fuss.” I turn to start gathering up my things so I can get out of here, my flight or fight kicking in. I run my hands over the things on the vanity. “And everyone would be looking at us if I showed up with a dog.”
Micah chuckles behind me.
My back stiffens. “What’s so funny?”
He takes my arm and nudges me until I face him. It’s not my imagination this time. He definitely is closer. I can smell the mint on his breath. “You don’t like to be looked at, but all I want to do is look at you.”
I brace myself against the vanity, my palms flat on the sleek surface while I search Micah’s intense brown eyes. A swirl of gold circles his pupil, and I forget to answer at first. “That’s nice of you to say, but you don’t need to, you know, pretend. The video was embarrassing enough. I was clearly…well, for lack of a better word, high. I was just saying whatever came into my head.”
He steps even closer. Reaching toward me, he traces the tip of his finger down my wrist and over the top of my hand. “I’m not pretending. I mean it.”
The soft stroke of his finger, his presence, the complete intensity in his eyes revs me up. My body fills with heat as Istand there, dumbstruck, like I’ve been put under a spell. Blood pulses lower until I feel needy and breathless.
Maybe Tab was right. It’s a natural female instinct to want to hump Micah Freeman. Or men who look like Micah Freeman, at least.
“I know you won’t believe this because you’re too sweet and have that country-like innocence—honestly, I think it’s the sweet and innocent that does it for me—but I want to take you out on a date.”
“You probably ask a lot of girls out.”
“I don’t, actually.”
A part of me wants to call him a liar, but when he’s looking at me with that steadfast, earnest gaze, the words stay imprisoned in my throat.
I take a deep breath, but it doesn’t help. My anxiety spikes, and Athena whines. “I’m feeling a little overwhelmed right now,” I tell Micah, my voice breathy.
“I like that I overwhelm you.”
“I…um…”
Athena pushes her way between us and then jumps up, her paws hitting my chest. I put my arms around her as she kisses my cheek. During times like this, I don’t have to wonder what she’s thinking. It’s as if I can hear her thoughts in my mind, which is basically just a mantra of “You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” I whisper.
Micah takes a step back. “Okay, I’m jealous of a dog.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you meant that kind of overwhelmed. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”
It’s my turn to chuckle. “Honestly, it’s just my life now.” Which might not be humorous to anyone but me, and usually, it’s not funny at all. However, in this situation, I’m in a darkcomedy where the universe decides to screw me… A hot guy hits on me and, of course, my nerves go full-on agitation. Wonderful.
Micah nods, his gaze discerning. “We could have drinks in my room. Or yours,” he quickly adds.
“I’m not that type of woman.” Not that there’s anything wrong with it. I’m sure Tab would sense a discrepancy in the force and jump for joy.
“I wasn’t insinuating?—”
“Plus, again, I’m sure you’re staying in some fancy hotel room that doesn’t allow pets. I’m in a less fancy hotel room. Though still nice,” I tack on. Really nice, actually. I had to video chat Tab and show her around. It’s pretty much the nicest room I’ve ever been in.
“Then when we get back to Nashville?”
His words startle me. As if I forgot that he lives where I live. Why did that never dawn on me before? “Maybe.”
“Well, I’ll need your number. Even for a maybe.”
“My number?”
“A string of digits usually attached to a telephone so people can communicate. Speaking. Or text.”
My cell rings again, and I nearly jump, but Micah doesn’t. He goes right for my phone. “Is this Raeann’s friend?”