The Forever of Ella and Micha (The Secret #2)
Page 30Rolling my eyes, I mosey over to Blake as he slides his credit card into the slot.
“So this is a freakishly weird coincidence,” I say, startling him and he drops his card onto the ground.
“Shit, you scared me.” He squats down to retrieve the card and then stands up straight. “What are you doing here?”
My gaze flicks to Micha laughing at Ethan attempting to hit on the blonde, who rolls her eyes and slams the hood down, uninterested.
“I’m headed home for the holidays.” I redirect my attention to Blake. “What about you? What are you doing all the way out here? Don’t you know California’s the other way?ߥ
The corners of his mouth quirk at my lame joke. “My mom lives in Cali, but my dad lives over in Colorado.”
“Oh, so you’re about to break to the east,” I say. “I see.”
After punching some buttons on the credit card machine, he removes the nozzle, puts it into car, and the gas gurgles.
He leans back against the car and folds his arms. “So you’re on the road with your boyfriend,” he says with an underlined meaning.
I flinch with guilt. “Yeah, about that night at the restaurant, I’ve been meaning to track you down and say sorry.”
His eyebrows lift with skepticism. “That’s funny, because it seems like you’ve been avoiding me.”
I sigh. “Was it that easy to tell?”
He shakes his head. “Ella, you practically ran away from me when I shouted out to you after class, but I just wanted to talk.”
I blow out an uneven breath as I fiddle with the zipper on my hoodie. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to say. He was drunk that night and upset about some stuff.”
He glances over his shoulder at Micha removing the receipt from the pump and Ethan who’s digging out some soda from the cooler in the back of the truck. “He seems intense.”
“But that’s the thing. He’s not,” I say, defending him with irritation surfacing in my voice. “He’s normally not like that.”
“Okay, if you say so,” he says tolerantly.
The gas pump clicks and he turns to take it out. “We broke up.”
“How come?” I ask, surprised. “You looked so happy.”
He rips his receipt from the machine and shoves it into his back pocket. “I don’t know. The last time I was there, things just were off.” He rubs his hand over his face. “We’ve been dating since we were fifteen and I think it only went on for that long because we were both too afraid to be without something we’ve had forever… We were together because we were attached to the idea of us.”
My mind wanders to Micha and myself. We’ve known each other forever. Is this how it will turn out? Anxiety grasps at my chest. I don’t want to lose Micha. Ever.
“Well, if you need anything, you can call me whenever.” I hop off the hood and my sandals splash in a rainbow-tinted puddle. “I’m not going to be doing anything except for probably getting into trouble.”
He chuckles as he rounds the back of the car. “You don’t seem like much of a troublemaker.”
A laugh sputters from my lips and I shuffle over to the driver’s side. “That shows how very little you know me.”
He opens the car door. “You’re right. I hardly know you, except for that you love to draw, don’t have a car, and think Professor Marlina’s watercolor’s look like paint-by-numbers.”
“They do,” I tell him in a serious tone. “I swear to God she copied them from one of those books.”
He grins, glances over in Micha’s direction, and then his gaze lands back on me. “So I have a question.”
I hesitate. “Okay.”
He wavers, considering something with his hand resting on top of the door. “So say I’m hanging out at my father’s house and I get really bored. Can I call you? Just to talk.”
I shift uncomfortably, putting my hands up into my sleeves. “Yeah, if you want.”
He winks at me and my uneasiness shoots up a notch. How the hell did things shift so fast? “I’m going to hold you to that.”
I give him a tense smile as I step back so he can shut the door. Waving, he backs out and drives out of the gas station parking lot. As I turn for Ethan’s truck, my body smacks into someone.
“Are you having fun?” Micha asks in a condescending tone, with eyes as cold as snow.
“We were just talking.” I move backward and then to the side to walk around him, but he sidesteps me and barricades my route.
“No violence,” I plead with a heavy-hearted sigh. “Why do guys always have to hit each other?”
“As opposed to knocking someone down to the ground and pulling their hair until they cry?” He edges out of the way of a car pulling in and tugs on my sleeve to drag me along with him.
“I did that once when I was twelve.”
“Or biting them on the arm?”
I huff a frustrated breath and wrench my arm away from him. “Alright, do whatever you want. I’m removing myself from the situation.”
As I march by him, his fingers grip my hip and he yanks me against him. Folding his arms around my shoulders, he walks behind me to the truck, freeing me only to open the door.
“I only want to hit him because I love you,” he says with a frown developing at lips. “It pisses me off how he looks at you, like that night at the restaurant. You may not see it, but even through my drunk eyes it was completely obvious.”
I take in the jealously written all over his face. “You’re jealous of Blake?”
“Of course I’m fucking jealous.” He gapes at me like I’m a moron. “He gets to be around you all day because you go to the same school. Plus, who knows how many times you hung out with him while I was on the road.”
“Twice outside of class.” I hurl myself into the backseat and accidentally bump the top of my head on the ceiling. “And once was because Lila needed to get off campus for a day.”
“You’re breaking a code even talking to him,” he tells me with sternness.
My jaw drops. “A code? Are you crazy?”
He props his foot on the sidestep of the lifted truck and puts his hand on the back of the seat. “Scoot over.”
I move over into the middle of the seat and he scoots into the backseat beside me. Folding my arms, I aim an irritated look of him. “So about these codes, you might need to let me know what they are. I mean, am I breaking some kind of code by being by myself in the backseat?”
He blinks, unentertained. “Argue all you want, but you didn’t see the way he was looking at you.”
“Micha, I’m not some prize everyone wants.” I inch toward the door to put more distance between us. I’m pissed off at his accusations and the fact that he doesn’t seem to trust me. “I’m a brat who has mental issues and who can’t make up her mind about anything.”
“Just the fact that you can admit that out loud,” he says as he slides closer me with his arm draped over the back of the seat, “makes you something special. Do you know how many people won’t admit their flaws and the things they need to work on—how many people can’t even see themselves?” He sneaks his hand between my thighs, his eyes forceful as he lures me back over to him and my heart leaps inside my chest. “You’re fucking special and if I want to act all possessive over you when some stupid art guy hits on you right in front of me, I’m going to. Either that or I’m going to have Ethan chase him down right now so I can punch him in the face.”
He kisses my temple. “Well, I’m glad you find my pain so entertaining.”
I peer up at him through me eyelashes. “I just have to say that I’ve seen you flirting with girls many times, making out with girls, taking them to your bedroom.”
He winces at the last part. “But what did I always say when you asked me about it?”
A smile breaks through. “That you were just buying time until I came around.”
“Exactly.” He rubs his lips together and all I want to do is lick them, take his lip ring into my mouth, and stroke his with my tongue. I want to do a lot of dirty things to him right now.
“Your mind’s going into the gutter, isn’t it,” he mocks arrogantly. “I can see lust written all over your face.”
I direct my concentration to the window, laughing under my breath. “You know, for someone who’s so sure of himself, you worry an awful lot about losing me.”
“That’s because I’d be lost without you.”
“Total player’s line, Micha Scott.”
Fixing a finger under my chin, he angles my head back toward him, so our lips are inches apart. “Remember the pact. You and I are in it for the long haul.”
“What pact?” Lila asks as she jumps up into the passenger seat, breathless from the climb into the tall truck. She has a large bag of Skittles and a bottle of water in her hand.
“A secret pact.” He beams a grin at me.
I’d almost forgotten about the pact made by two children trying to seek something that they could never really have—normalcy.
Ethan gets into the truck and spins the tires as he drives away from the gas station, racing toward the freeway, cranking up “Silhouettes” by Smile Empty Soul.
“I think we need a drink,” Micha declares, reaching for the back sliding window, so he can get into the cooler.