Strung(40)

“It’s not that easy. I can’t just call him, Whit.”

“Why not? Because your brother will be pissed off? Or is it because you think this Micah guy doesn’t want you to? Explain it to me. You haven’t given me much to go on. All you’ve done is mope around the house, watch TV, and eat snacks like they’re going out of style. That’s not like you at all.”

“It’s complicated, okay.” I take a bite of the messy treat, giving myself a moment to think. “I don’t know if he wants me to call him. The fact that he hasn’t called me yet could mean that he’s moved on already. What if my brother was right all along?”

“He’s a player, huh?” She takes a drink of beer, before she moves her chair in closer. “Players can change, babe. Are you forgetting that Ethan was a “player” before we started dating? All these playboys need is for the right woman to come along and shake them up a bit. Your brother doesn’t know that because he’s a player too. He just hasn’t found the right woman to shake him up yet. Tell me this . . .”

I take another sip of beer and look over at her. “Yeah?”

“Do you love this guy?”

“Yes.” My answer is automatic. “So much that it hurts to be away from him. It’s killing me and I don’t know what to do. I’ve never experienced this kind of pain before.”

“Then take a chance and call him. It’s worth a try at least, don’t you think? If love weren’t a game of risks it wouldn’t be so hard. Or rewarding.”

I think about her advice for a few minutes, coming to the realization that she’s right. I’ll never know if he loves me back if I don’t at least try. I’ve been so scared of him not returning my feelings for him that I’ve spent the last week convincing myself that the reason I can’t call him is because of my brother and his friendship.

But I can’t do this anymore. I need to at least know if he feels the same. Even if he doesn’t.

Then maybe I’ll be able to move on with my life and stop being so damn miserable—as Whitney pointed out.

“I’ll call him tomorrow.”

What the . . .” She reaches into my pocket and snatches my phone out, nearly making me drop my beer. “Call him now. Why wait until tomorrow?”

I shake my head, staring down at my phone. “I can’t tonight. It’s the grand opening of his bar. He–”

“That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it, Tegan. He could be there, miserable as shit and staring at his phone the whole night because he hasn’t heard from you. Maybe hearing from you will make his big night even bigger. Now . . . please . . . do us all a favor and call him.”

She holds my phone up, not giving in until I take it from her hand and stand up. “Fine. I’ll call him.”

My hands shake as I scroll down to his name. Just seeing his name on the screen is enough to send my heart into overdrive.

I swallow and hit the call button.

There’s no turning back now.

Either he’ll answer it and I’ll get to confess my undying love for him or he’ll send me to voicemail. Either way, it’s time I move on with my life and this phone call is going to determine which direction I’m going to go.

With each ring of the phone my heart beats faster and harder, until it feels as if I’m choking on it. Or maybe that’s just the vomit trying to work its way up.

Why am I so nervous?

When the phone goes to voicemail after only a few rings, my throat and chest begin to burn, but I hold the tears back and turn around to face Whitney.

“It went to voicemail,” I choke out.

“Okay, babe. Maybe he didn’t hear it because of all the–”

“After a few rings, Whit. That means he declined my call.” I shake my head and force a small smile. “It’s fine though. I got my answer and that’s all I needed.”

“I’m so sorry, babe.” She replaces my empty cup with her full one. “You need this more than I do. Drink up.”

I look down at the cup, about to take a drink when I Found by Amber Run catches my attention. It’s one of the songs Micah played for me at Express that night and all it does is make me feel sick to my stomach.

“I don’t think so. This . . . song . . . I can’t.” I hand it back to her, anxious to get away. “I think it’s best if I go to bed and call it a night.”

“No, stay out for a while. You need this.”

“Maybe I do, but I don’t want it right now. Thanks, but no thanks. I’m going to bed.”

After a few seconds she finally huffs and takes a step back. “Okay, I get it. I don’t like it but I get it. I’ll check on you in a bit then.”

I don’t say anything. I just walk away, because all I can think about is getting alone as quickly as possible, before my emotions get the best of me in front of everyone.

Our friends seeing me a mess over Micah is the last thing I want or need.

Hurrying up the steps, I reach for the door and step inside.

The sight of Micah standing in front of me, holding my book in his hand steals my breath straight from my lungs.

“What are you doing here, Micah?” I fight to catch my breath as he eyes me over. “Your bar . . . the opening?” I question.

I swallow as he takes a step forward and holds the book up. “This ending is bullshit, Tegan,” he growls. “This isn’t how the fucking story is supposed to end. It can’t.”

I suck in a breath as he steps closer and cups my face. “How is it supposed to end then, Micah? You tell me, because I don’t have a clue. So, tell–”

His lips crash against mine and he kisses me with desperation that confirms he’s missed me just as much as I’ve missed him.

All I can do to avoid falling over is grab onto his shoulders and hold on for dear life as I go weak in his arms.

After a few moments he pulls away, both of us fighting for air as he presses his forehead to mine. “I rescheduled the grand opening for three weeks from now. The bar means nothing to me compared to you, Tegan. I’ve known that all along, but as I was standing there waiting for the door to open, I didn’t feel shit. I didn’t feel happy or accomplished. I just felt . . . empty. I knew there was no way I’d be going along with the grand opening without you there by my side.” He pauses to take a breath. “I had no idea you left California or else I would’ve shown up here days ago. It’s killed me not being able to see you. But I knew we couldn’t be good until you and Alexander were. That’s the only thing that made me strong enough to push you away that night. But I can’t fucking go without you any longer.”

I swallow as he runs his thumb over my bottom lip.

“Please give me another chance, because I can promise you that I’m not leaving here without you. I don’t care if it takes me proving to your brother for weeks, or hell, even months before he’s okay with you coming back with me.” He lifts me up and wraps my legs around his waist. “You’re mine, Tegan Tyler, and I’ve known that since the first time you opened your mouth and gave me a hard time.”

I smile and wrap my arms around his neck. “I’ve missed you so damn much, Micah, and I wanted to be there for you tonight. I did, but I was afraid you didn’t want me there. I didn’t want–”

“I love you, Tegan.”

His confession stuns me speechless for a few seconds, and when I finally speak my voice is barely a whisper. “You what?”

“I fucking love you,” he says against my lips. “I have for a while now, and you leaving has only made me love you more, not less.” His eyes meet mine with nervousness. “Do you love me, Tegan? I need to know.”

“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, I love you, Micah. I’m in love with you and I want to be with you.”

“You have no idea how fucking happy that makes me.” He kisses me again, giving my bottom lip a slight tug.

“Wait.” I move away from his mouth, just now realizing that I never told him where I live. “How did you know my address? Did Alexander . . .”

He nods and sets me down to my feet. “I got him to text me the address on my way here.”

A small smile takes over, because I know my brother well enough to know what that means. “He trusts you again, Micah. It’s the only way he would’ve given you my address. Trust me on this. It’ll take a little time for him to come around, but he will.”

He smiles back and kisses me once more. “Does that mean you’ll come back with me? I don’t care if it’s only for the summer. I just want you with me.”

“Oh my God.” Micah and I both look at Whitney when she steps through the door with her mouth wide open. “He’s here. In our kitchen. In Wisconsin. Not there in California at his bar. This is big.” Her mouth curves into a huge smile. “He loves you,” she nearly squeaks out. “I knew it!”

“I do.” Micah smiles against my lips, kissing me again. “A hell of a lot.”

“Well, it’s nice meeting you and all, but with the way she’s been moping around for the past week, hurting over you, I should kick your ass.” Her smile broadens. “But I won’t because you two look happy and I don’t want to ruin it.”