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Micah spares him a glance and snorts before turning me around so we’re face to face. “You sure everything is fine?”
“Yes. I was just missing you and wanted to give you something.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“This.” It’s always a stretch to throw my arms around his neck and pull him down to my level.
He comes willingly, fastening his mouth to mine with the same ravenous heat that rules every time we touch. Even on a day that has sent my emotions spiraling in unexpected directions, my response to him is sensual and instant.
I’ll never stop wanting him, never escape this craving. Micah Lyonne is my obsession for life.
Micah’s never shy about putting his hands on me no matter where we are and he’s not shy now, feeling my hips, cupping my ass, bending away from my mouth to map kisses up and down my neck before lifting me up.
I hold him tight as my feet leave the ground. “Micah, I love you so much.”
He pauses and sets me down, pressing his forehead to mine. “I love you too, baby.”
The next words are stuck in my throat. They want to fly out but I hold them back.
A more practical argument is beginning to win out over impulse.
Hearing news of this magnitude is going to throw off his training routine. The upcoming fight is a big deal to him. The event will be live streamed on a channel that boasts five million subscribers. His opponent is tough and Micah is hell bent on winning.
Messing with his head right now will only jeopardize his goal.
Anyway, two weeks is no big deal.
For crying out loud, I won’t even be showing yet.
“Tessie?” He sifts his fingers through my long hair, catching my mood shift. “Something’s up. Tell me.”
I inhale deeply, exhale slowly, scattering the threat of emotion. “It’s really nothing. I was just having a bad moment and needed to see you.”
He sweeps his lips across mine, the tenderest of kisses. “Is the bad moment over?”
I’m sure he thinks I’m still fretting over my father’s rejection. In truth, I haven’t thought about Stuart Ballerini at all today.
“Thanks to you.” I give him one more lingering kiss, and then a smile before I open my car door. “Go kick ass. I’ll see you at home.”
I see him in the rearview mirror, watching me drive down the street. I wonder if I’ve just made a mistake, if I should have found the courage to cough up the words right now.
Micah doesn’t make elaborate plans for the future, or really think too far out past his next fight.
I understand what I’ve signed up for with him and I regret nothing.
But with Micah, there will always be another fight ahead. Always.
Chapter29
Micah
They call this place The Catacombs, which makes little sense. It’s not nearly that interesting or exotic.
On the far edge of the east side, the industrial site used to be a factory compound, complete with a warren of buildings and dilapidated worker housing. A few years back someone got the bright idea to buy it for peanuts and turn it into an entertainment venue. Now surrounded by high metal fences and drizzled with bad graffiti that never gets scrubbed off, I suppose it has kind of a post apocalyptic charm.
I have no clue what this, the largest of the intact structures, used to be for and I don’t care. It’s been hollowed out and repurposed as a fight arena.
Mine isn’t the only fight tonight but it is the last. The seats are filled to capacity. In fact, I’d say they’re overcapacity. It wouldn’t shock me if the Em City fire department storms the scene and declares it a hazard.
