The Forever of Ella and Micha

Page 22

I gently kiss her cheek and then move off her, but not before rubbing up against her once. She gasps at the feel of me and I grin.
“You’re a better person than you think you are, Ella May.” I point to my mouth. “See, you got me smiling.”
She rolls her eyes as she climbs off the bed and straightens out her shirt. “All I have to do is take my clothes off and you would smile.”
I stare at her, picturing her sweaty and naked and underneath me.
“Stop looking at me like that.” Her breathing is erratic. “You’re making it hard to breathe.”
With my eyes still on her, I pick up my phone off the top of one of the many boxes stacked around my tiny bedroom. “You want to take a trip to New York?”
She arches her eyebrows. “As friends?”
I nod, dialing my father’s number. “If that’s what you want.”
“It’s what I want for now,” she says. “And yes, I’ll go with you, because I love you.”
Ella
It dawns on me the morning after Micha got wasted that he might have a problem. He’s doing what my dad did and using alcohol to deal with his issues. Even though it might be difficult to confront him about it, it seems like I should.
I bring it up to my therapist during my last visit before my trip to New York, but she disagrees.
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea at the moment, Ella,” she says loudly over the rain beating against the window. The sidewalks outside are flooded, the sky is a dark gray, and the wind is howling. “You’re still dealing with your own problems and bringing that kind of stuff up to people can bring out some ugly emotions.”
“Micha’s not like that,” I disagree, raising the volume of my voices over the boom of thunder. “He would never intentionally hurt me.”
“Confronting problems can be hard for anyone.” She puts her glasses on and reads through yesterday’s notes. “How have you been doing with stuff lately? Has it been good?”
I tell the truth, even though my initial reaction is to sugarcoat it. “I’ve been fine except for after I got off the phone with Dean, but things are always crappy when I talk to him.”
“What did he call you for?” she wonders.
A huge lump swells in my chest as I say softly, “Because today is my mom’s birthday.”
She doesn’t look at me with sympathy, which is why I like her. “Was he rude to you during this conversation?”
I struggle to breath. “A little, but that’s because he still blames me for our mom’s death, I think.”
Her pencil is poised above her paper, ready to take notes. “Do you ever talk to him about how you feel when he hurts you?”
I shake my head. “No, and I don’t want to.”
Her hand moves quickly across the paper as she writes something down. “What did you do after you got off the phone with Dean and you were upset?”
“I wasn’t upset,” I correct her. “Just sad, so I went back to my room and curled up in a ball for a little while. I pulled myself out of it, though.”
“That’s good.” She takes off her glasses and there are red lines where the frames pressed against her nose. “What time are you leaving for New York?”
Tipping my head back, I glance at the clock on the wall above my head. “In, like, four or five hours.”
“Are you going to be okay?” she inquires. “You’ll be alone on the trip with Micha.”
“I’ll be fine,” I assure her. “I know you don’t want me to date him—and I’m not—but he’s still my friend and he needs me.”
“I never told you not to date him, Ella.” The rain picks up, veiling the window with water, and she raises her voice. “I just told you that until you can build a steady life you should try to take things easy, and relationships generally are not easy.”
I curl a strand of my hair around my finger. “How will I know when I’m ready to be with him again?”
She offers me an encouraging smile. “Only you know that, but can I advise you to take baby steps with any relationship you get into, so your thoughts have time to slow down and you can see what’s real?”
My thoughts are racing as I rise to my feet and swing my bag over my shoulder. “I guess I’ll see you when I get back.”
She escorts me to the door. “Take care, Ella, and remember, if you need anything just call me.”
I wave good-bye and step out into the rain, taking off toward the apartment. My boots splash through the puddles, and even running the entire way, my clothes and hair end up sopping.
Ethan and Micha are sitting on the living room couch when I rush inside and slam the door, locking out the rain. Their eyes dart to me and amplify.
Micha takes in my jeans and T-shirt clinging to my body and the beads of water running down my face. “Didn’t you have a jacket you could put on?”
I wring out my hair, making a mess on the entryway tile. “No, I didn’t think it would rain.”
“What? The dark clouds weren’t a dead giveaway?” Ethan asks mockingly and grabs a handful of chips from a bag on the coffee table.
“It usually doesn’t rain here.” I head toward my room while my boots leave a trail of water on the carpet. “Do I have time to take a shower before we leave?”
“Yeah, you’re good,” Micha calls out. “Just make it a quick one.”
I close my bedroom door, slip off my wet clothes, and go into the bathroom attached to the bedroom, leaving the door cracked. The warm water of the shower eases my stiff muscles and I let it run along my body longer than I’d planned.
“Ella, are you alive in here?” Micha’s voice increases over the sound of the running water.
I rub the water from eyes. “Yeah, I was just about to get out.”
I wait a minute for him to leave, and then shut off the water and draw the curtain back to step out, but he’s still there, leaning against the counter.
“Shit.” I grab the curtain and cover myself. “I thought you left.”
He crosses his arms and his feral eyes bore into me. “I wanted to make sure you got out. We need to go.”
I reach for the towel on the hanger and wrap it around myself before releasing the curtain and stepping out. His gaze tracks me all the way as I walk into my room.
I dig through my dresser drawer for some clothes and select a gray-and-black-striped hooded T-shirt and a pair of jeans. “Alright, give me a minute to get dressed and I’m good to go.”
He picks up a drawing of the girl with cracks in her face and studies it. “When did you draw this?”
Sighing, I pull on my panties without taking off the towel. “Right before I came to visit you in LA.”
He drops it back onto the dresser and his fiery gaze shifts to me. “It looks like you were sad when you drew it.”
I pull my pants on, stumbling around the room as my foot gets caught in the middle of the pant leg. “I was sad about not being able to see you.”
A ghost smile touches his lips as I stare at my bra in my hand, racking my brain for a way to get it on without flashing him. “Did you run into some trouble?” he asks.
I blink at him impassively. “Would you mind stepping out for a minute?”
He gives an overexaggerated nod. “I would mind very much.”
Shaking my head, I turn around and let the towel fall to the floor. Hooking an arm through each strap, I put the bra on and reach around to clasp it together, but fingers brush my back.
“I know I’m not supposed to say this, since we’re supposed to be friends.” Micha breathes in husky tone as he clips the clamps together. “But you are ridiculously beautiful.”
My lungs constrict as I peek over my shoulder and his luscious lips are only inches away. “You’re right,” I say, breathless as my heart hammers inside my chest. “You really shouldn’t say things like that.”
His gaze moves to my lips, full of desire like he might kiss me, and a needy moan trembles from my mouth. Nibbling on his lip ring, he backs away, his eyes never wavering from me until he shuts the door and disappears into the hall.
Blowing out a quivering breath, I quickly put my shirt on and comb my hair, wishing he had kissed me.
Ethan drops us off at the airport with barely enough time to get checked in and make it to the gate before the plane starts to board. Everyone keeps thinking we’re newlyweds and Micha is amused by it; however, it makes me uneasy. Newlyweds equal marriage, something I’m not ready for.
As we’re getting ready to get onto the plane, Micha tells me to go ahead without him. He’s got something to do and he’ll meet me on the plane. Collecting my bags, I line up with my boarding pass in my hand as he saunters off toward the gift shop area with his bag over his shoulder.
On the plane, I find our row and put my smaller bag under the seat, then stuff the larger one into the overhead compartment. I sit down by the window and gaze out at the blue sky and the wing of the airplane, wondering how bad flying is, since I’ve never been on a plane before.
“You look nervous,” Micha remarks when he reaches the end of the row.
“I’m fine,” I assure him. “I was just lost in my thoughts.”
He shoves his bag into the compartment above our heads and his green plaid hooded shirt rises up just enough to show a thin space of his lean stomach muscles and smooth porcelain skin. My thoughts fill with images of running my fingers up his chest, along his stomach, savoring his soft skin.
“Are you enjoying the view?” He cocks an eyebrow as he adjusts his shirt back over my view.
Hiding my smile, I turn toward the window. “I guess so.”
He sits down in the middle seat and when I look back at him, there’s a paper bag on his lap.
I point at it. “What’s in there? Is it anything good?”
He opens the bag and moves it toward me. Inside is a chocolate cupcake, with pink and red sprinkles. My heart instantly surges with my love for him.