Page 30 of Safe Place

“Two more classes. And then the closing shift at the bookstore.”

“Long day.” His gaze lingers, like he wants to say more.

Then, without warning, he unzips his jacket.

I blink. “What are you⁠⁠—”

He shrugs it off, revealing a white t-shirt beneath that clings in all the right places. Not too tight, but snug enough to show the definition of his chest and arms. My brain short-circuits for a second.

Before I can recover, he’s draping the jacket over my shoulders, tugging the hood up over my hair. His fingers brush lightly against my temple, sending a spark down my spine.

“Micah,” I protest weakly. “What are you doing?”

“You need it more than I do. You’ll be on campus all day and it’s supposed to rain until tomorrow morning.”

“You’re wearing short sleeves and it’s cold.”

He shakes his head. “I’m going to my car now, and I always keep extra clothes in there. I’ll be fine. But you won’t, so take it. Please.”

I tug the jacket closer around myself, the warmth of it still carrying his body heat. It’s huge on me. And it smells like him. My heart unsteadily thuds against my ribs.

“You can’t just⁠⁠—”

“I can. And I did.” His eyes crinkle slightly at the corners. “Don’t argue with me, Lenny.”

I open my mouth, ready to insist, but he steps back already, hands lifting in surrender. “I really do have to go, though. Traffic’s going to be brutal if I don’t leave now.”

“Micah—”

“I’ll text you later.” His smile is quick, almost boyish, before he turns and jogs toward the parking lot. He doesn’t wait for me to answer—doesn’t give me a chance to shove his jacket back into his hands.

Then he slows.

He stops a short distance away, and then turns back like he’s forgotten something important. Rain darkens his hair, plastering it to his forehead.

“Oh—hey!” he calls, raising his voice over the rain. “Take an Uber after work, okay? It’s gonna be wet and cold!”

A few people glance our way. Heat rushes to my face.

I just lift a hand and wave. I can’t afford an Uber, and I’m not going to make a promise I don’t intend to keep.

He grins and waves in return, then turns and jogs off. I stand there a moment longer in his jacket, my heart still racing, trying to convince myself this doesn’t mean anything more than what it is.

I stand there under the building’s awning, his jacket heavy on my shoulders, watching his figure disappear through the rain. I know I shouldn’t, but I’ll probably be waiting for that text from him.

MICAH

My dad had me in Boston all day yesterday, and it was grueling. He insisted I drive down in the morning to shadow him, which basically meant sitting in a string of meetings where I wasn’t needed. He’s been on my case nonstop about taking the company more seriously now that I’m a junior. As if my life here—classes, exams, papers, actual responsibilities—doesn’t count for anything.

It’s like he forgets I’m still a student, or maybe he doesn’t care. In his head, my degree is just a box to check off before I step into the role he’s carved out for me. It’s more important that I make a good impression on the members of the board.

The worst part? The whole day was pointless. I could’ve joined those meetings on Zoom, given the same fake smile, nodded at the same meaningless chatter. Instead, I drove hours in the pouring rain and traffic just to shake hands and make small talk with people who know me because of my last name. My dad calls it exposure, and I call it a waste of time.

I also had the added pressure of wanting to get back in time to give Sophie a ride home after work. I knew she had the closing shift at the bookstore, and some part of me wanted to be there at the end, just in case. No doubt she’d try to walk home in the rain.

Meetings ran late, traffic was a nightmare, and by the time I finally pulled into my parking garage, it was past midnight.

Maybe I should’ve called.