Page 7 of Trust

“Not really.” I pull Micah a little closer, shifting us so we’re angled away from the stage. “But it’s a nice song. Simple.” I pause before adding, “I liked your piece more. It had a lot of emotion in it.”

He’s tense, but he doesn’t pull away. He blushes again as he says, “It wasn’t anything special. Just a cover of a song.”He seems about to stop talking, but then he goes on, “I saw it performed on a TV show, and I knew I had to learn it.”

“Yeah?” I say, encouragingly. “You’re good if you picked it up from the TV.”

“It wasn’t anything special. I found sheet music online.” Some of his tension dissipates. He drinks in the compliment like a parched plant finally getting water after a drought. “But I was determined, and it was just…” He makes a gesture with his hands, letting out a self-conscious laugh. “Something I wanted.”

He’s adorable, I think, watching the small smile grow on his face.

“—seen it?” he’s asking when I tune back in to what he’s saying.

I frown.

“The show?” he asks, wilting a little. “I… I’m so sorry. I must’ve been talking your ear off. I do that. Adam says?—”

“I don’t watch a lot of TV,” I interrupt, “so I probably haven’t seen it. But maybe you can show me later. I like discovering new things.”

Micah eyes me, and I don’t particularly like the way it feels like he’s measuring me before he speaks.

Like he’s trying to tell me what I want to hear instead of what he wants to say.

“Okay,” he agrees, hesitating before going on, “You can see her rendition of it. The actress actually plays, too.”

“That’s impressive,” I say, although I have no idea who we’re talking about. “You’re more impressive, though.”

He flushes an even brighter shade of red, right down to his ears, and he hides under that shaggy blond hair of his.

I smile, brushing some of his hair behind his ear so I can see his face.

I want to kiss him.

We’re in public, but everybody’s attention is on the stage and we’re in a secluded corner. When I was pretending to be attracted to women, this is when I’d have made a move with one of them, but I don’t know if I’m reading the signs right.

“I’m going to kiss you,” I say, and Micah’s eyes go wide.

He looks past me, and I steel myself for a refusal—but Micah glances back at me and nods.

“Please,” he whispers. “I want it.”

My heart surges at those words. He wants this as badly as I do. So in the privacy of the booth, I urge him closer to me, and I kiss him.

I have not kissed many men. Men do not enjoy kissing for the sake of kissing. It’s a woman’s whim that drives kisses, the boring part before sex.

But as Micah kisses me back, I realize how wrong that idea was.

Kissing Micah fills me with warmth like I’ve never experienced before.

It wipes away the remnants of the nightmare.

And right there, with his lips parting for mine, I make a decision.

I’m going to make Micah mine.

TWO

MICAH

Kissing Ilya isn’t like kissing Adam.