Page 85 of Safe Place

He glares at Grant and Wyatt, then back to me.

“Are you mad?”

I shake my head. “No. I mean, maybe I wish I had enough pride to turn it down, or be mad and feel betrayed by you. But I’ve felt so much lighter since. Like I can actually breathe.”

“I respect you. You, your pride, all of it,” he says, brushing a kiss across my forehead. “And thanks for not being mad at me.”

“Aww, how sweet,” Wyatt teases. “But let the record show—it was Grant who cracked, not me.”

“Liar,” Grant shoots back. “WyWy was the one who said Adam Green is Luke!”

“Stop calling me WyWy!” Wyatt groans.

“Why? It’s adorable,” Grant grins. “Wyatt Wynn—your name sounds like a cartoon character.”

“I know. It sounds like a joke,” Wyatt mutters.

“Thanks, guys. Seriously. You’re the best.” I laugh, my chest lighter than it’s felt in weeks.

Grant’s already halfway through unwrapping a muffin. “Yeah, yeah, just don’t go crying on us again. I’m not emotionally equipped.”

“I didn’t cry,” I say.

“She was definitely about to cry,” Wyatt then whispers to Micah.

But Micah doesn’t take the bait. He’s watching me—really watching me—with that look he always gives me, like he sees more than I’m saying.

He leans in, his voice low. “You really feel lighter?”

I nod.

He reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together. I smile, until I notice the raw skin across his knuckles—red, scuffed, and bruising. My stomach twists.

“Micah.” I turn his hand over in mine. “What happened?”

He tries to pull back, but I don’t let him. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it?” I raise a brow. “Your hand looks like it went through a brick wall.”

“Or someone’s face,” Wyatt says around a sip of iced coffee. “Many, many times.”

“Sit,” I tell Micah, tugging on his arm.

“You’re in trouble now,” Grant mutters, eyes wide like he’s watching live drama unfold.

I ignore them. I turn toward Micah, lowering my voice so only he can really hear. “If I’m going to keep opening up to you—if I’m going to trust you with the messiest parts of me—I need you to let me in, too. No more secrets. No more trying to fix everything behind my back.”

He starts to say something, but I cut him off gently. “That includes the Evergreen scholarship.”

Grant chokes on his drink. “Wow. Never thought the day would come when someone would talk to Micah Vale like that.”

“I want to be part of the decisions, Micah. I want to be in your world—not just someone you protect from the sidelines,” I say, ignoring Grant.

He squeezes my hand, his eyes warm but serious. “Okay,” he says softly. “No more secrets. I’ll let you in.”

“Good.” I lean into him. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“Guys,” Wyatt stage-whispers to Grant, eyes wide. “Are we intruding? Should we leave?”