Page 43 of Micah
“You…sleep.”I say as I ease off the bed. “Night.” I back away. I don’t want to take my eyes off her until I have to.
“Micah…wait.” I freeze, waiting for her to continue. “Can…will you sleep in here tonight?”
My eyes widen, darting from her to the empty side of the California King bed. I swallow twice before asking,“How?” Hoping she understands my question. But I don’t want there to be any confusion. I would sign, but suddenly I can’t feel my body. I need her to spell out exactly what she wants from me.
“Maybe you can wear your pyjamas and sleep on top of the covers?”
I nod, my head bobbing repeatedly. It’s so hot in here, sleeping on top of the covers will be fine. “Ok…back…soon,” I tell her, then make my escape.
I run across the apartment, Minnie lifting her head from the back of the couch to watch me, then bang into my room. What the fuck do I wear for pyjamas? I don’t own fucking pyjamas. I spin in a circle, unable to remember what clothing I own. Or where I keep it. Or who the fuck I am.
I sink down on the edge of my bed, trying to get my head on straight. I can’t go to her with this manic energy. Maybe I should take a shower, rub one out to calm down.
I’ve tried that though.
It only buys me a few minutes of relief. The second I see her again, my cock will be fucking saluting her. No, I don’t want to leave her waiting too long. I can’t risk her changing her mind.
I throw on a tank and athletic shorts, brush my teeth, then grab a throw on my way back through the living room. I knock softly, waiting for her invitation to enter. I leave the door propped open. “Minnie,” I explain at her questioning look. Holly hasn’t moved, still sitting up. She watches me circle the bed, a tired smile slipping over her full lips as I hover, staring at her.
“Lay down Micah,” she orders softly. It’s like my body was waiting for her to release it. I collapse into the mattress, trying to settle before popping back up to pull eighty pillows off the bed. Fucking interior designer. Then I lay back down with my one pillow, sighing in satisfaction. Her soft giggle makes me smile.
“Sleep…Holly.” I whisper, turning on my side to face her. She turns the bedside light off and rolls on her side to face me, carefully adjusting her foot. The light from the bathroom shines behind her, hiding her face from me. Her breathing is rapid, and I pray it’s not from fear. I wish I could snap my fingers and she’d believe in me. In the way I feel for her. That she’d know, keep in her gut, that when she’s with me she’s safer than she’s ever been in her life.
Minnie’s weight lands on the end of the bed with a small meow. She pads up the bed, stopping to let Holly give her a rub under the chin before padding over to me. With years of practice, she settles herself on the pillow, right in front of my head, and begins to groom herself, stopping once in a while to lick my forehead. I don’t bother to wipe it off, knowing she’ll just lick me again.
Over Minnie’s purr, Holly’s soft laughter rings out. I smile at her, and slowly reach my left arm towards her, letting my hand settle on the bed between us.
An invitation.
Holly stares at it before slowly reaching out, wiggling her fingers until they’re tucked inside mine. She closes her eyes, a small smile on her lips, and drifts to sleep. I keep my eyes on her, the soft movement of her chest, the tiny squeak of her breath, not quite a snore, but nearly.
And for the first time in my whole life, I fall asleep with a smile on my face.
20
HOLLY
He has a cat on his head.
Sometime between last night and this morning, Minnie draped herself over his head, spread eagle. One of her little paws is resting on his nose, her chin on his forehead, her back legs stretching down the back of his head. He hasn’t moved at all, even when she stretches and flexes those sharp little nails. She couldn’t be closer. Looks like Minnie and I both have a little crush.
Micah didn’t move all night. But I did. When I woke up on his side of the bed, my nose was plastered to his chest, my right leg thrown over his. My nightgown bunched around my waist.
Thank God I kept my underwear on. Micah’s arm is wrapped around my back, holding me snugly to him. The other hand is holding mine to his chest. I’ve never slept with a man like this, wrapped up. In bed with Brent, I clung to the edge, unable to bear touching him. Even in my sleep, I was repelled by him. Apparently, my body has very different feelings for Micah.
It’s not a surprise, really. It’s been giving me hints of how I feel, how much I want, all week. It’s my brain that’s getting in the way. I’ve been fighting it. Fighting him all week. Unable to believe that he might truly want me. But more, unable to believe that I might want him. That he really is different from Brent. But somehow it’s this little cat that’s convinced me who he truly is.
It seems like a simple thing. I mean, she’s just an animal. What effect could she possibly have on the way I feel about Micah? But I can’t help but remember every time Brent came across someone with a pet, in our neighborhood, or out for a walk. He loved to ‘promenade’, he called it, wanting to look the part of the dapper gentleman and his biddable wife. So we walked, and I pretended that everything was ok. That I hadn’t just been pushed down some steps and cracked a rib.
I loved visiting with the pets, though. I got to snuggle and love on all the dogs, and the occasional cat rolling in the front yard. But not once, in the seven years of our marriage, did an animal approach Brent. More than that, when Brent would attempt to play nice with a dog, it would snarl or back away. Animals did not trust him.
Micah, and all the guys really, seem to be wrapped around Minnie’s little paw. It’s so easy for an angry person to target an animal. But she doesn’t show an ounce of fear around them. That has to mean something.
It has to.
Maybe I’m reaching, but I feel safe here too. My gut is telling me that Micah would never raise a hand to me. And if I’m really honest with myself, my gut told me Brent was not the man he presented himself to be. But I ignored it. I put myself in harm’s way.
Micah’s arm tightens around my back before relaxing. He’s awake. I can feel the warmth of his gaze on the top of my head. Gathering my courage, I raise my head.
