Page 45 of A Crazy Kind of Love
I took a shuddering breath to get my disappointment and irritation under control. I should have remembered he was just a big old flirt.
But even so, even if he was trying to find a way to use me to further his own career, I didn’t want to start a fight with him, especially not here among his friends. He hadn’t needed to bring me along. And he’d been nothing but gracious. “I’m sorry. Can we start over?”
He reached his hand back across the table toward me, but not like a greeting. His hand was palm up, vulnerable. I reached mine out to him in return, and he clasped my fingers in his. “I don’t want to start over. I want to go on.”
A wave of dizziness swept over me at his words. My eyelids fluttered and closed, and my head rolled around to the side. When I opened my eyes, Zion reached over and felt my forehead. “We should be going.” He pushed his chair back and offered me his hand.
I wanted to communicate with Zion in giant semaphore flags to let him know I was fine. But I couldn’t easily explain the situation either to Zion or to Micah. “Oh, hey Zion. It’s fine. I’m just swooning over something Micah said, though I’m sure insulin shock must appear the same to you.”
Micah jumped up when I stood. “One second. Let me at least call my car.”
As Micah texted, Zion handed me my pocketbook. I glared at him although he meant well. “I’m fine, Zion. Really.”
Micah led us down the stairs, through the crowd and out into the night. “My driver should be here in a second.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
As soon as he lit one, I moved several feet away from him out of long habit. He blew out a cloud of smoke, then threw the cigarette on the ground and twisted it out with his shoe. “Oh, right. Don’t drink, don’t smoke.”
I glared at him. “I’m not a Goody Two-shoes, if that’s what you think.” My voice faltered, and I felt like an idiot. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I didn’t want Micah to think I was going to start crying on his account. So I walked toward the street and turned my back on him, choking in huge breaths of air to calm down. Just because I didn’t want to stand in a cloud of smoke, did that make me too lame for the rock star party?
Micah laid a hand on my shoulder. “No, I didn’t mean—”
“Are you Micah Sinclair?” A couple of girls in short skirts, low necklines, and high heels flanked Micah.
Micah’s head jerked toward the interruption. “What? Yeah.”
The redhead said to her blond friend, “Told ya so.” She flung her hair and inched closer. “God, you’re even cuter in person.”
The car entered the street, and I took a step toward the curb. Micah’s hand fell from my shoulder.
“Mind if we take a selfie with you?”
I couldn’t even look. I willed the car to hurry up so I could dive in and get away, but the road was clogged with taxis. I contemplated hailing one, but I couldn’t find one that wasn’t occupied.
“I’m sorry. This isn’t a great time.” Micah stepped closer to me, away from the girls.
“Oh, please. It’s just a quick picture.” The blond one pushed her way beside Micah with her back to me and her arm around Micah’s waist, without bothering to ask him if she could touch him. Like he was a cardboard cutout instead of a person.
“Do you mind? I’m in the middle of a conversation.” Micah eluded her grasp right as the car pulled up.
Zion opened the door for me, and I bent to climb in, but Micah caught my arm and said, “Hey, is everything okay?”
I turned my face away so he wouldn’t see the tears already falling. Zion ushered me into the backseat and threw over his shoulder, “Everything’s not okay, Micah. She’s diabetic.”
Of their own volition, my eyes cut sideways to check on Micah’s reaction. His mouth hung slack for an instant, and his eyebrows drew together as he ran through everything he’d ever known about me. I didn’t want to stand there watching him reprocess our every interaction through the filter of disease, so I looked away and climbed into the car.
Zion followed and closed the door. “Hey, if he’s not cool about that, he’s not good enough for you anyway.”
I dropped my head into my hands, and Zion rubbed my shoulder.
When the car didn’t start moving right away, I looked up to see why just as the door on my side opened up. Micah stuck his head in. “Is there room for an asshole?”
I wiped my eyes on my shirtsleeve. “You’re not an asshole, Micah. You didn’t know.”
“I do now. Can I ride with you? Can we start over?”
I scooted over to let him in. He closed the door and told the driver where to go. He laid his hands in his lap and stared at them. “I’m sorry, Jo.”
“Why?”
