My face is now burning. I guess the clues she needs are not so subtle. “Yeah. Micah.”

“Micah.” She winks. “Stayed over at his place?”

“Okay, how do you know that?”

“Same clothes you wore yesterday.”

Crap. I stayed at Micah’s, and we had sex, and he held me and told me things about himself I don’t think he often talks about and… What does it all mean? Will he want to see me again? Am I special to him, or does he often take girls home?

I even forgot to take my walking stick when I left his apartment—my excuse for going over to see him. I am transparent in my actions, an open book, and he’s like an encrypted message. He may have told me a few things about his past, but he remains a mystery. Apart from telling me he basically grew up in foster care, I still know nothing much about him.

Cassie clears her throat, then opens her mouth and closes it. Her brows shoot up. I have no clue what she sees on my face, but she opens her arms and pulls me in for a hug. Stunned, I let her.

“You really like him, don’t you?” she whispers against my shoulder, and I stiffen a little, because damn, I’d like to keep a few of my thoughts private, thank you very much. “I think he really likes you, too. I saw the way he was looking at you.”

“You should warn people you’re a mind-reader, you know,” I mutter.

“Where’s the fun in that?” She pulls back and smiles. “I know everything you like and hate.”

“Do you, now?”

She nods as if accepting the challenge. “You hate this job. You don’t care for sports, or selling things. You love your family, but they are too controlling and often negligent. You want to work with the homeless and those in need.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” Shock steals my breath. “How the heck do you know all this? I never told you about—”

“And you love Micah.”

Her final words ring in the small changing room like bells.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I finally manage. “I don’t love him. I don’t even really know him and…”

She arches a brow, and the rest of what I was about to say dies on my lips.

I don’t love Micah.

Do I?

I open the door and head out to the shop, hoping a customer shows up soon. I really don’t want to face what’s in my head right now.

***

My cell phone beeps as I finish work. A message from Micah.

‘Wanna come over to my place tonight? I finish at ten.’

God, I’d love to. But Mom will have a fit if I don’t show up home tonight, and Joel… My jaw clenches. I’m nineteen. I don’t have to be a good girl and stay home every night. I don’t have to do it to please my mom. Come on!

My fingers hover over the keys. Then I type as fast as I can, before I lose my nerve: ‘Sure. See you there.’

Two seconds later, my phone pings with another message from him.

‘Great! R u near Damage? I have my break now.’

Damage? As in Damage Control?

I worry my lip between my teeth, then I grin. My heart starts to pound at the thought of seeing him again—and it’s only been a few hours since I left him. Jesus, this is ridiculous.

‘On my way.’ I stare at the words I’ve just typed and shake my head at myself.

Hopeless, Ev. Hopelessly addicted.

I barely limp as I leave the store and hurry down the street, my bag swinging. I feel alive, more alive than ever, my every sense alert, every nerve singing. Everywhere I look, the colors are bright, every detail crystal clear. I still see the misery and pain, that isn’t going away—the people sleeping on cardboard boxes, wrapped in filthy sleeping bags, hands with blackened nails cradling their unshaven faces—and although that pain tugs at me, and I slow down to look at them, memorize where they are, try and think what they may need most, I feel light and happy.

I feel so good, so drunk with joy it’s scary. After the high, usually there comes a low. The higher the rollercoaster, the steeper the dive.

Before I manage to frighten myself more, I reach the donut shop and turn toward Damage Control, across the street.

He’s there, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, his jacket gray and his hair golden. He’s looking right at me, his grin so wide I can clearly see it from where I’m standing.

My heart flips over. I cross quickly, and he meets me as I step on the sidewalk. Grabbing me around the waist, he spins me around in the air and laughs when I yelp. He’s still laughing, that quiet, vibrating sound I like so much, when he lets me down and lifts his hands to cup my face. His hands are warm and rough, and his eyes shine as he bends to kiss me.

He tastes like buttered popcorn and sparkly wine, and I cling to his neck and kiss him back, with tongue and teeth and all. Shit, I keep surprising even myself when I’m with him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He actually seems to like it, judging from the moan rumbling in his chest and the tightening of his arms around me.

He pulls back for air. “Fuck, how am I gonna wait until tonight to touch you?” he whispers. “Fuck.”

“Come on.” I tug on his hand, and he tugs back, shifting uncomfortably. My gaze falls to the big bulge at the front of his jeans, and heat fills me. “Oh crap.” I want to laugh, but he really seems uncomfortable, and at the same time I want to strip him naked, take him in my hand, my mouth…

Jesus. I’m turning into a sex maniac for this guy.

He finally starts walking, following me, and we cross the street, going for donuts and coffee. We sit outside, on the benches, under the gray sky. Micah sips his coffee and stuffs half a donut in his mouth. He makes faces at me, showing the donut between his teeth until I almost fall off the bench laughing.

He chews and swallows and makes even that look sexy.

You’re crazy, Ev. Calm down.

“So you’re coming over to my place later?” He’s drinking coffee, his face mostly blank, but he’s watching me from under his lashes. There’s tension around his eyes.

He’s nervous, I realize, and it makes me feel better. I’m not the only one out of my depth here, it would seem.

“Depends,” I say and again I can barely recognize myself. I’m never this bold—unless I’m with Micah.

“On what?”

“What are you offering? Dinner? Wine?”

“I can do that.” He smirks. “Anything else?”

“Entertainment?” I stick my tongue out at him and give a breathless laugh. Oh God, Ev, that was lame.

“Oh, I’ll keep you entertained all right,” he says, his eyes darkening to midnight blue, and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble.

***

We finish our coffee and throw our Styrofoam cups into the trash, our shoulders touching. He reaches up and brushes his hand over my cheek, down my jaw, until he cups my chin.

“Going home?” His voice sends shivers through me.

“Nah, Cassie will finish work earlier today, and we’re going shopping.”

At least she said she could when I asked on my way out, although she was pretty busy with customers at the time. And I need some stuff—nice panties and bras at the very least—if I’m doing this… Whatever it is. Sleeping with Micah. Being around him. Undressing and lying naked with him.

Which is stupid. He’s seen me as I am already, in my practical and not-so-sexy sports underwear, and didn’t seem to be paying any attention to it except to rip it off me.

Excitement rushes through me at the thought, the memories, the images. I look up to find a grin on his face.

“Shall I walk you somewhere?” He strokes his thumb over my lips, and the roughness of his finger pads makes my mouth tingle. “I still have some time before my break is over.”

“I’m meeting Cassie outside the store.”

“Store?”

“Where we work together.”

He nods and takes my hand, tangling his fingers with mine. “Come on.”

He lets me lead the way, his hand warm around mine. I keep glancing at the side streets and alleys, half-expecting Blake to step out, but he hasn’t approached me again. Micah tightens his hold on my hand and stops.