Page 39 of Micah

Enough to make my stomach do the tiniest little flip.

Weird.

Very weird.

“Usual?” I ask.

He nods once.

“If you don't mind.”

“I don't.”

I write it down even though I don't need to.

One local lager.

Burger.

No onions.

Extra pickles.

Fries well done.

I memorized his order months ago.

Funny.

Maybe we're both watching a little more closely than we should.

Chapter 5-Micah

One thing about nursing a beer?

Nobody bothers you.

People assume you're thinking.

Or tired.

Or enjoying the music.

Nobody realizes you're conducting surveillance.

Not that I'm proud of it.

Hell, I know exactly how bad this looks.

I'm sitting in the same damn corner booth I always take once Benji and Sawyer leave with their wives.

One hand is wrapped around a bottle that's gone warm because I've barely touched it in the last forty-five minutes.

My burger disappeared ages ago.

My fries are now ice cold.

I couldn't tell you what any of it tasted like.