The Prelude of Ella and Micha (The Secret 0.5)

Once he’s done with his drink, he screws the lid back on and then tosses the bottle to Ethan, who’s shaking his head at us.

“You two are fucking crazy,” Ethan remarks, opening the bottle.

“Ethan Gregory, don’t you dare finish that off!” I cry, but my plea fades as Micha holds onto my legs and hikes toward the fire with me on his back.

“Are you going to carry me around like this all night?” I ask as he approaches Stanford, Benny, and Grantford along with a group of girls I used to go to school with.

“Maybe.” He grips onto me tighter. “At least as long as you’ll let me.”

“That might be a very long time because the stars are spinning a lot tonight.” I glance up at the sky and cringe at the thick clouds. I summon a deep breath. Even through the fogginess in my body, I can still smell it.

Impending rain.

An impending warning.

Chapter 8

Micha

There is no way in hell I’m going to put her down, not after what just happened. I don’t care if she’s drunk. Fuck, I’m feeling pretty drunk myself. With Ella on my back, I feel both high and drunk.

She fucking touched my lips. Let me kiss her thumb. Let me press my body against hers.

And now she’s on my back.

“Hey, Micha.” Benny gives me the chin nod as I approach some other racers with Ella on my back. She’s been on there for about five minutes and hasn’t shown any signs of wanting to get down.

“Hey, man.” I nod back, noting the strange look he gives me and Ella. The look is fleeting and quickly vanishes, as if he’s been expecting this sort of thing to happen. I saw Ethan and Renee give me the same look, and I’m fucking hoping maybe they’re right.

Something’s changed. I can feel it in the air.

Right as I think that, thunder rumbles from the sky. It’s followed by the drizzle of rain. Everyone starts to scatter for their cars as the raindrops put out the fire and drench everyone’s clothes. Ella holds onto me tightly as I sprint for the car, slipping in the mud and struggling to see straight. I manage to get her in the passenger side safely then get my own ass into the driver’s seat where I turn the engine on and crank up the heat.

“We’re so screwed,” she remarks, staring at the raindrops splattering across the window.

Her damp, auburn hair rests on her shoulders, beads of water trickling down her cheeks and lips. As she slips off her jacket, I relish in the sight of her tank top clinging to her body. I can’t help thinking about how I saw her nipples through that shirt this afternoon and how turned on I was.

“Micha, did you hear me?” she asks, wiping some raindrops from her forehead with the back of her hand.

I shake my head, too drunk to be ashamed of the direction of my gaze. “Not a damn word.”

She laughs, but it’s off pitch. “I asked what we’re going to do. Neither of us are sober enough to drive. And I’m guessing from all the cars still parked that everyone else might be in the same condition.”

I shrug, blinking my focus back to her face. “I guess we’ll have to just chill here until we sober up. I’m not super drunk, so I’ll probably only need an hour or so.”

She presses her lips together, her gaze relentless until she finally clumsily hops over the console and falls into the backseat. “Well, I’m getting comfortable, then. There’s a good chance I’ll end up passing out.”

“Not fair.” I rotate in the seat and watch her stretch her legs out. “How come I have to stay up here?”

“Who said you have to stay up there?” she questions, wringing out her hair.

Taking that as an open invitation, I turn on some music then tumble over the console, probably a little too eagerly, and end up bumping my elbow into her stomach.

“Micha,” she grunts and then laughs as I force her to lean forward and then climb on the seat behind her. “That was probably the most unsmooth I’ve ever seen you act.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I position us so both our legs are stretched out across the seat and my back is against the door. Then I guide her toward me until her back is resting against my chest. “This is nice,” I admit.

“We’ve sat like this before.” She jumps as thunder booms and lightning snaps just outside. “Probably too much … people are starting to think stuff.”

“Oh, yeah?” I comb my fingers through her wet hair. “Like what?”

She shrugs then reclines back and rests her head against my chest. Her ear is very close to my heart, and I worry she’ll hear how rapidly it’s beating. What will she think if she hears it? Does it matter? You were going to tell her anyway. Tell her!

“They think we’re a couple,” she says before I can get a chance to pour my heart out. “Which is a little weird considering you fool around with other people all the time. I mean, what do they think? We have, like, an open relationship or something?”

“I already told you I’ve been chilling on getting laid,” I tell her. When her back goes rigid, I quickly move my hands to her shoulders and gently press my fingertips into her skin, massaging her tense muscles. “Maybe that’s why they think it. Perhaps they think my celibacy is because I’m with you.”

“Well, that’s still insulting.” Her head falls to the side as I continue to shower her muscles with attention.

“And why’s that?”

“Because … it means they think we are having...”

“Sex.” I smash my lips together, trying not to laugh at her slight embarrassment over the subject. The girl can rock out solo in front of a ton of people, but talk about anything sexual, and she grows uneasy.

“Are you laughing at me?” She starts to turn her head, but I move my fingers downward, splaying them across her collarbone, and she sinks into the touch.

“No way.” I rest my forehead on the back of her head. Her hair smells like rain, and I inhale the delicious scent, branding it into my mind, branding this moment into my mind forever. “You smell so good.”

“This feels so good.” She moans, the kind of moan I imagine would leave her lips if I was thrusting inside her.

A low moan escapes my own lips as I battle to remain in control over myself. But I can feel my willpower fraying, about to break.

“Ella, there’s something I need to tell you.” I kiss the back of her head, making a path downward.

“Yeah, me, too … it’s about our pact.” She sighs into me. “Maybe we could go somewhere else.”