Zach huffed out a breath. Every one of those was true, but still, probably a bit much to spring on a guy he’d just met, no matter how intensely he was reacting. And besides, none of those answers was the whole truth, because it wasn’t just Zach’s dick that was interested in getting to know Micah a little better. There was something about him that attracted every single part of Zach, like a moth to a flame.
A spark.
Before Zach could figure out if there was a way to say any of that without scaring Micah away, Micah frowned, pulling his phone out of his pocket and squinting down at the screen.
“Oh, shoot,” he said, starting the lip-nibbling again. “I’m totally late. Um, I need to go? My friend Sam’s waiting for me.”
Zach’s friends were waiting on him, too, but somehow, he’d thought he’d get a little more time with Micah.
“I thought we were going to clean these up?” he asked, taking one of Micah’s hands in his as he tried not to feel disappointed about losing the excuse to draw things out.
Micah glanced down at his abrasions, looking a little surprised, as if he’d already forgotten about them. Then his phone—still clutched in his other hand—vibrated again.
“I’ll have to do it at home,” he said. “My mom’s a doctor, though? So I’ve got all the stuff I’ll need.”
Zach disciplined his disappointment. Still, there was no way he was letting Micah go without some kind of promise that this wasn’t the end.
“Micah, can I—”
“Zach, do you—”
Micah spoke at the same time, and Zach laughed, some of the pressure in his chest at the thought of walking away easing as another one of those already-familiar blushes colored Micah’s face.
“Yes,” Zach said, grinning down at him. He had no idea what Micah’s “do you” had been leading to… but he still knew that his answer would be yes.
Micah laughed. “Um, I was just going to say, maybe you could walk me out to the parking lot? Because I’m still a little dizzy, and you’re a medic and all, so…”
Zach laughed again. “Oh, is that why?” he teased, pretty sure now that he wasn’t the only one feeling a spark.
“I… um. Oh my God,” Micah mumbled. Then he took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders, still blushing like crazy. “No? That’s not really why.”
“Good,” Zach said, shooting out a hand to steady Micah when he stumbled over a crack in the pavement.
And moving that steadying hand to the small of Micah’s back? It felt completely natural and entirely right, like he was exactly where he was meant to be.
Micah looked up at him with the same wide open smile he’d had on his face when Zach had first caught sight of him—one that somehow made it seem like he was smiling with his whole body—and Zach knew he was going to have to cancel his date with Delia that night. He’d never fully believed Ana’s stories of spark-at-first-sight, but whatever this was, Zach could already tell that there was no point in him looking anywhere else until he at least found out what it might become.
“There’s Sam,” Micah said, nodding toward a parked car in the lot. He turned to look up at Zach, the faintest hint of a blush appearing again as he asked hesitantly, “Um, can I do something?”
“Anything.”
The pink in Micah’s cheeks deepened into the red Zach had already gotten used to seeing, and he brushed a finger over Zach’s cheek, a feather-light touch that Zach felt everywhere.
“Is this okay?”
“Anything,” Zach repeated, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to, but still convinced that yes was always going to be his answer to anything Micah wanted.
“Dimples,” Micah said, almost under his breath. His fingers skimmed over the side of Zach’s face, his head cocked to the side as his eyes traced the movement, and then paused, hand resting alongside Zach’s jaw, and glanced up at him nervously. “Can I do more?”
Zach nodded, and Micah’s fingers danced over his face, the touch quick and firm now, confident and thorough. It was a different version of Micah than the blushing and babbling ones that Zach had seen so far, and one he was just as drawn to. The touching felt oddly intimate and wholly strange and Zach wasn’t really sure what to make of it, but when it was over—when Micah tucked his hands behind his back, still red as a beet, and mumbled a soft “thank you”—Zach instantly wanted it back.
He cleared his throat. “Is that it?”
“Yes, thanks,” Micah said, biting his lip. “I can see you better now.”
Then he cocked his head to the side, letting his eyes roam shamelessly over Zach’s face as his gaze followed the path his fingers had just taken.
“What color would you say your eyes are?” he asked, sounding a little less nervous than he had before he’d touched Zach’s face. He smiled, barely blushing this time, and slipped back into his breathless and excited mode. “I mean, I know you’ll probably just say blue, but don’t you think there’s got to be a better word than just that? Because I’ve always heard people say that the sky is blue, but from what I’ve seen so far, it can actually be all sorts of colors. The sky, I mean, not your eyes, of course. At least, not that I’ve seen?”
Zach laughed, a little confused and a lot enchanted.
“Do people’s eyes ever change color?” Micah asked, reaching up as if he was going to touch Zach’s face again, but then—disappointingly—pulling his hand back before he did. “I’ve been looking at yours this whole time, and they haven’t yet. I kind of hope they don’t? I like them. But that blue, I mean the sky kind, is totally different from your blue. Yours are more of a storm-blue, but not quite gray. A little like rain… or a whale. Is there a name for that color?”
“What?” Zach asked, still laughing. He wasn’t really sure what else he’d call his eyes other than “just blue,” but he was sure that Micah’s odd view of the world charmed him just as much as Micah did.
Zach wanted more of it.
More of him.
“Never mind,” Micah said, instantly reverting to shy and blushing as he glanced away from Zach, looking toward his friend’s waiting car. “That was too weird, wasn’t it?”
“No,” Zach said, meaning it. “But can I ask you something?”
Micah looked back up at him, biting the lip Zach was hoping to taste someday. He nodded.
“Can I see you again, Micah?”
And when Micah said yes and blasted him with another one of those full-body smiles, Zach was hit with exactly the same rush he chased every time he put on a jet pack or jumped out of a plane.
No, not exactly the same. This one was better.
4
Micah
Micah glanced at the silent phone on the corner of his desk, nibbling his lip as he stared at it. It didn’t light up or vibrate, and after a few more minutes of staring, it kept not doing either one of those things. He tapped the home button to wake it up, figuring he might as well just double-check that he hadn’t missed anything.
Nope.
What if Zach never called?
What if he’d just been being polite when he’d said he wanted to see Micah again?
What if he did call, but he’d only wanted Micah’s number so he could check up on those “sneaky signs of concussion” he’d seemed so worried about?
A quick, staccato knock sounded on his front door, and Micah spun his computer chair around to face the door, not bothering to get up. Sam had been using the same silly rhythm to announce himself for as long as he could remember, and it was definitely an announcement, not a request for entry. Sam knew where the spare key was, and he wasn’t going to stand around out there waiting for Micah to come let him in.
Sure enough, the knock was immediately followed by Sam letting himself in.
“Is it really four o’clock already?” Micah asked, his eyes straying toward his phone again. He jerked them away with an effort, knowing Sam would tease him relentlessly if he saw.
“Nah, I was bored so I came by early,” Sam sai
d, his lips twitching as he gave Micah’s phone a pointed look. “Your man get in touch yet?”
Micah shook his head, blushing furiously.
Sam laughed. “Dude, just text him already. You’ve finally got the chance to pop your gay cherry! What are you waiting for?”
“I was working,” Micah reminded Sam.
“Right,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “Because we both know how mentally taxing that is. Besides—” he pointed to the computer screen behind Micah, “—hello, I can totally see that you were playing around in Photoshop.”
Micah laughed, caught. As dull as medical transcription was, he couldn’t help but appreciate that it had allowed him to move out on his own and work from home, but Sam was right, he’d actually finished a few hours ago.
He swiveled his chair back around to look critically at the picture he had on screen. He’d been editing some of the pictures he’d taken the day before in an effort to distract himself from the 24/7 Zach-loop his thoughts seemed to be stuck in, and now he tilted his head, squinting his eyes at the image of Mission Bay he’d been working on. He tried to gauge whether he was happy with his changes or not. Sort of? But it still didn’t really have the right feel to it.
Earlier, he’d masked out the boats in the harbor and messed around with the vibrancy and saturation, but something was still missing. He added a new layer and some effects, smiling at the result, then spun his chair around to face Sam just as Sam flopped down on the couch and pulled a couple of burgers out of the fast food bag he’d brought in. He tossed the bag down on the coffee table between them and nudged it in Micah’s direction, and Pippin immediately trotted over, laying her head on Sam’s lap and staring up at him with a look of utter adoration.
“Don’t even think about giving her one of those burgers, Sam,” Micah said, earning a guilty look from the pair of them.
“Dude, don’t be stingy. I brought you some, too,” Sam said, grinning. “But if you’ve seriously got the heart to eat one in front of her and not share, that’s on you, not me.”
Micah rolled his eyes at the guilt trip, but didn’t bother dignifying that with an answer.
“You want to see some of the pictures from yesterday?” he asked instead. Photoshop was by far one of the most wonderful things in the sighted world, as far as Micah was concerned.
“Sure,” Sam said, standing up and grabbing the bag of burgers. He walked over and plopped it down in Micah’s lap. “And eat something already while you show me. We both know you probably forgot about lunch, right? And you know your new man is gonna want something to hold onto, so you can’t be letting yourself get too skinny.”
“Zach’s not mine,” Micah said, even though the sound of that was kind of perfect, as far as he was concerned.
Sam was right about lunch, though, and Micah pulled a burger out of the bag, grateful for the reminder. He did tend to get caught up in whatever he was doing and forget things like eating sometimes. But… too skinny?
Was he?
Had Zach thought he was too skinny?
“Am I too skinny?” he asked Sam, looking down at his body. From what he’d seen of other people so far, they came in all sorts of different shapes and sizes, and even though Micah knew he was skinny, he wasn’t sure what qualified as “too” skinny.
He just felt like… himself.
“Nah. You’re fine,” Sam reassured him, which made him feel better.
Sam would know; he’d been looking at people all his life.
But then Sam added, “Well, borderline maybe, so quit stalling and eat your damn burger, Rawlings. I honestly don’t know where you get all your energy when you never eat and have zero fat to burn for extra fuel. You’re a freak of nature.”
“I’ve got a high metabolism,” Micah said, rolling his eyes. He unwrapped his burger and took a bite, though, because he was hungry, now that Sam had brought it to his attention.
Sam leaned over Micah’s shoulder to look closer at the picture on screen, then he laughed. “Did you seriously turn that spray of water into rainbow glitter, bro? You are so gay.”
Micah grinned. “It’s prettier this way.”
“I rest my case,” Sam said, slipping Pippin a bite of his burger.
“I saw that,” Micah said, trying for a stern glare that just made Sam laugh.
“Pippin liked me better when you were blind,” he said, sneaking her a second piece with absolutely no effort to be sly about it. “But for real, you ever think about getting paid for your photo art things instead of slogging away at that boring-ass medical jargon all day? You’re getting really good.”
Micah shook his head. “You know this is just for fun. Besides, it helps me figure out what I’m looking at.”
“People get paid for skills like you’ve got, though, and probably better than what you make right now,” Sam pointed out for the millionth time. “Plus your stuff is…” Sam waved a hand at the screen, then sort of gestured around the room at large.
“My stuff is what?” Micah asked, confused.
“Uh, you know,” Sam said, shrugging. “This. All pretty and shit, with all the weird colors you mix together and whatnot.”
Micah grinned, hiding it by taking another bite of his burger. He loved Sam like a brother, but usually Sam was more apt to tease him mercilessly than compliment him.
Sam finished inhaling his first hamburger and headed back to the couch to grab another one, sneaking another chunk to Pippin when he thought Micah wasn’t looking. Micah bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to laugh. It was probably useless to fight Sam when it came to spoiling his dog, but he at least had to make the effort if he wanted to feel like a responsible dog owner, right?
“Don’t you ever get sick of hamburgers?” Micah asked, deciding he’d turn a blind eye for the moment. “You should have brought Chinese.”
Sam snorted, shaking his head. “I get enough Chinese when I go to my parents’ for dinner, thank you very much. If you want some, you’re gonna have to visit them, too. Which, by the way, they would love. Mom was just asking about you last week.”
“Did you give her that print I made?” Micah asked, a little bit proud of how nicely the edited picture from Sam’s parents’ anniversary dinner had turned out.
“Yeah, thanks for that,” Sam said sarcastically. “Now she loves you more than me. Says you made her and Dad look better than they did back on their wedding day. Plus, she liked all that crazy background pattern stuff you did.”
Micah grinned. He knew he saw things differently than other people, and he never quite knew what others would think of the way he put his pictures together. He figured if he just thought of them as art more than actual photos, it would be fine, because he didn’t always know what he was looking at, even in print. Just like when he’d decorated his apartment, he ended up using “weird colors” and other things that maybe weren’t supposed to go together. In this case, though, he was glad to hear that Mrs. Tseng had liked the result.
Another knock sounded at the door, and Pippin’s ears perked up. When she let out an excited bark and started wagging her tail madly, Micah had a pretty good guess about who it would be. He grinned, finishing the last of his burger as he got up to answer it.
“Hey, Alicia,” Micah said as he pulled the door open, stepping aside to let the perky teen come inside. “Sam’s here, too. On the couch.”
“Cool,” she said, turning her head in that direction and adding, “Hi, Sam.”
“’Sup, Ali,” Sam said. “You hungry? I picked up some extra burgers for Pipp, but Micah’s being mean and won’t let her have them.”
Micah rolled his eyes, wondering just how much extra food Sam had secretly slipped Pippin back before he’d gotten his sight back. Honestly, it was amazing his dog wasn’t fat.
“No, but thanks,” Alicia said, grinning in his general direction as she folded up her white cane and then patted her thigh to call Pippin over. “I just got home from school, so I thought I’d stop by and see if Pippin needed a wal
k?”
Pippin practically bounced out of her skin at the W-word, slathering Alicia’s face in excited kisses when the girl crouched down to hug her.
Micah and Pippin had met Alicia and her mother two years ago, right after he’d moved into the apartment. The Lees lived in a little two-bedroom house a few blocks away, and since Alicia had been blind from birth, the sight of Micah walking Pippin past their house in harness had been enough for Mrs. Lee to call out to him and make introductions.
It had been love at first bark for Alicia and Pippin, and Mrs. Lee—a single mother who had neither the time, nor the patience, nor the financial ability to say yes to Alicia’s repeated pleas for a guide dog of her own—often joked that she should have kept her big mouth shut to save herself from Alicia’s constant wheedling. Micah might have even bought it if Mrs. Lee hadn’t loved Pippin so hard herself.
“Dude, Pipp always needs a walk,” Sam offered from his place on the couch. “Poor girl. You know Micah practically neglects her now… and he won’t let me give her any treats.”
“Ha ha,” Micah said sarcastically. He knew Sam was kidding, but still, the comment hit him right in the guilts. He walked Pippin every day, played with her at the dog park, and loved her madly, but he knew it still wasn’t enough. She’d finally given up nosing at her harness every time they got ready to go out, but she had yet to stop whining sadly whenever she looked in its direction.
“Micah would never neglect Pippin,” Alicia said loyally. “He’s the best dog owner ever.”
Sam laughed. “You don’t need to lay it on so thick, Ali. You already know Micah’s gonna let you walk her.”
Alicia stuck out her tongue, and Micah laughed. Sam was right, though, Micah would never want to keep the two of them apart. Alicia was a godsend. Not only did she shower Pippin in love, but also, earlier that year—in a secret pact they’d agreed to keep from Mrs. Lee for the moment—she’d enthusiastically agreed to let Micah start teaching her how to let Pippin guide her. Both girl and dog had gone through a little learning curve as they’d figured out how to work together, but now they operated as smoothly as Micah and Pippin used to. It didn’t totally alleviate his guilt, but it made both Pippin and Alicia ridiculously happy, so it was definitely a win all around.
Looking For Love (Semper Fi, The Forever Faithful Series Book 2) Page 5