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“Night, Reese. Thanks again for tonight.”
He bops me on the nose. “That’s what best guy friends are for.”
I go about my nighttime routine and soon switch my bedside lamp off. As the light fades to darkness, my mind flips on and runs ramped up.
Reese’s words from the diner repeat in my head. “The man can’t keep his eyes off you. Literally.”
Does Micah look at me that often? Not possible. Reese only noticed Micah looking because he was keeping an eye out for such things.
“The way he tries to steer you from men. It’s quite telling. Possessive.”
Is Micah really trying to keep me away from other men? Does he actually believe he has a claim on me? Ha! Not a fat chance in hell, Micah Reed.
What I don’t understand is why Micah would feel possessive. On day one at Roar, I radiated nothing but abhorrence when we were introduced. He felt it, too. Mom always said hate is a strong word. I use the term sparingly and only associate it with a handful of people. Since age fourteen, I have hated Micah Reed. He was cold and callous and hurt others to make himself look good.
Question is… is it time to grow up? Is it time to let go of teenage pain and trauma? Is it time to give someone I have loathed more than a decade a fresh start?
Maybe.
I don’t want to live life with hate in my heart. Don’t want to be someone who focuses solely on all the negative aspects. If I let go of the past so easily, does it make me weak?
Part of me says yes. By giving in, all the hurtful words, constant teasing and bullying… it feels as if I accept them. That Micah and those bitches all get a free pass. I may be the bigger person by extending forgiveness, but I don’t want to be a doormat.
The other part of me says no and states, in order to grow and evolve into a better version of myself, I must make peace with my past. To make peace, I have to battle my inner demons. The voices of doubt that tell me to build a wall around my heart, to keep people like teenage Micah Reed out. People who know nothing about me, yet hand out opinions like Halloween candy. People who know nothing about my life, yet they mock and judge and lie about me.
I am not that girl anymore. That fragile teenage girl who only wanted to be accepted for who she was. Now, I stand tall. Strong—physically and mentally.
Perhaps it is time to expand my strength to emotionally as well. Perhaps it is time to be the bigger person and give Micah Reed a chance. A chance he probably doesn’t deserve, but maybe needs.
Tomorrow, I will offer up his second chance. How he handles it is up to him.
* * *
“You planning on handing out heart attacks tonight?”
I glance over my shoulder in the body-length mirror at Reese in my doorway. His eyes rake over the length of my body before he whistles. The reaction is exactly what I hoped for, and I laugh.
“One. Maybe.” I spin to face him. “Think it’ll work?”
In three long strides, Reese stops in front of me and grips my shoulders. “Yes. And if not, someone might need to visit an optometrist.” He shakes his head. “Damn, sunshine. You don’t play fair. Best have 911 on speed dial.”
I step out of his touch and go to my dresser. Add a few spritzes of perfume to my wrists and at the base of my skull. Snap on my favorite leather bracelets. Swipe one last coat of clear gloss on my lips. I have never been the type to wear a lot of makeup, but I do like to accentuate the features I love about myself. So, my eyes and lips always get attention. Even if minimal.
After I fetch my four-inch-heel boots from the closet, I plop on the bed and finish getting ready.
Not sleeping the first three hours I had lain in bed last night, I devised a plan for work tonight. Let’s just say I will test Reese’s theory about Micah. And in order to do that, I have to be on my best behavior. I have to be the first one to hold up the surrender flag.
But there is no reason to not look like the smoking-hot temptress I am. Mom always said use what life has given you. She probably meant talent and skill, but I reserve the right to believe she silently included beauty too.
I shoulder my purse and head for the front door. Reese follows in my wake. “Never said I played fair. Do you blame me?”
The corners of his mouth droop slightly. “No, of course not. But it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t give you some shit before you left.”
“True.” I turn and hug him. “Thanks for everything.”
His arms tighten around my middle. “What’d I do?”
I loosen my grip and kiss his cheek. “Nothing. Just being you. And that’s exactly what I need. So, thank you. You really are the bestest best friend.”
As the words leave my lips, Reese slaps my ass. Hard. “Get out of here, sunshine.”
I rub my butt and jab a finger in his chest. “Damn, that stings.”
“Good. Now go.” He shoos me out the door. “And you better tell me everything in the morning.”
Pivoting slightly, I lift a hand to my forehead in mock salute. “Yes, sir. I’ll have my report on your desk at oh-three-hundred hours.”
He shakes his head. “You’re such a weirdo. Love you.”
“Love you, too” I blow him a kiss before he shuts the door.
Now, on to the most challenging night at work. Hope my claws don’t come out.
