she was going through was normal and could be justified. He, however, had no excuse for his behavior.
“You’re a liar, but thank you. I’m hoping this is the end of it, though. I think I’m finally ready to move on.”
“And are you? Moving on?”
“Sometimes I feel like I have moved on. Then other days, it seems difficult to let go. Two steps forward, one step back. And every time I feel this sense of guilt for even trying to move forward.”
“I know what you mean.” He knew exactly what she meant.
“You do?”
“Yes. It feels like you’re dishonoring him and his memory.”
“Exactly.” Her response was a whisper on his neck.
She leaned into him, her face buried in his neck. Her lips innocently came in contact with the skin just below his ear. Electricity coursed through him as his hold on her tightened. He closed his eyes, praying sanity would return.
Focus on the subject at hand. Something platonic. Focus on Drew. Or your mother!
That worked.
He thought about the important things. Micah considered him to be her safety and he took the job seriously. He would make sure she always felt secure with him. The images that ran through his mind threatened that in every way possible. He’d begun to recite it to himself, a mantra of sorts: Drew’s girl. Drew’s girl.
“I think I’ve always felt guilty for living, guilty for turning him away that night, for ignoring my instincts and letting him drive in that storm. I didn’t feel like I deserved to live life, much less a happy life.”
Her words hit too close to home. His own guilt was overwhelming. He could take hers away in an instant, but he would lose her just as fast. She would hate him if she knew the truth. She would never forgive him. “You have nothing to feel guilty about. It was just his time to go.”
“Yeah. I think I’ve finally figured that out. And that we honor his memory best by living a life he would be proud of. You know he always lived life to the fullest. He would expect the same from me.”
They watched the rest of the movie in silence, but his mind was far from quiet. He kept thinking about what she had said about Drew wanting them to live life to the fullest. Part of him wanted to believe Drew would have supported anything that made Micah happy. But what if he couldn’t make her happy?
He had never wanted anything more from a woman than a casual relationship. He’d never allowed anything deeper to happen between him and someone else. What if he wasn’t capable of a long-term commitment? What if he hurt her? Josh didn’t want to believe that he would ever intentionally do that to Micah, but why risk it?
None of it mattered, anyway. He was wasting brainpower just thinking about it. At the end of the day, Josh knew the truth about Drew’s wishes. Nothing could ever, ever happen between him and Micah. The end.
The movie credits began to roll, but Josh couldn’t move. He didn’t want to. Micah’s deep and steady breathing told him she had fallen asleep on his chest. She felt so right. He wanted to hold his breath so as not to disturb her. It felt natural to have her there, fitting so well next to him. It was as if he had been made just to hold her like this.
His emotions were running ragged. Recently, there had been times he felt so angry at her, at this situation and her inability to move on from Drew. But he loved her deeply and the moment she looked up at him with her warm coffee-colored eyes, his anger dissipated.
But more often than not, there were moments, moments he was ashamed of, moments of pure lust that should never have happened. She didn’t belong to him. She never would.
Sitting here any longer would be detrimental to his state of mind. He really should carry her to her bedroom and leave her there, safely ensconced behind a locked door.
But instead he found himself carefully readjusting them so he could slide down further into the couch. There was enough room for him to swing his legs up onto the cushion as he maneuvered himself into a lying-down position.
Micah began to move, but did not wake. Her own legs extended along his as she made herself more comfortable beside him. Her body flush against his own. He didn’t care how wrong this was. It felt too right.
As he lay there with her in his arms, his mind kept drifting back to the tattoo he had briefly seen earlier. It was covered up now and there was no way he would be able to sneak a peek without waking her. It was a mystery to him. Why couldn’t he figure it out?
The heart was unique. It wasn’t what you would normally think of when considering a heart tattoo. It was the kind of heart you used when texting someone—a less-than sign with the number three. It formed a heart with textspeak, but why get it as a tattoo?
Then suddenly a thought came to mind. Could it be?
No. He quickly erased the thought from his mind. It was all just wishful thinking and nothing more.
Something caught his eye on the coffee table—a small stack of papers, nothing out of the ordinary. However, Drew’s name stuck out at the bottom of a yellowish piece of paper, half-hidden in the pile of receipts.
Curiosity drove him to reach for it, careful not to wake Micah.
The words were hard to read in the dim evening light, but he strained to make them out. It was a love letter from Drew, and just the kick he needed in order to regain some clarity.
* * *
Micah woke some time during the night, the howling wind rousing her from a deep sleep. It took a moment for the fuzziness to fade and for her to realize just where she was sleeping, or rather, on whom she was sleeping.
She lifted her head from her place of comfort on Josh’s chest. His breathing remained steady, a light snore escaping from his slightly opened mouth. Her legs were tangled with his as they lay entwined on the couch.
Having been best friends for so long, there had always been a level of comfort and physical affection between them, but never had she found herself in such an intimate position with him.
Her hand moved on its own accord down his chest and over his tight stomach, feeling the rippling of his hard muscles beneath the softness of his T-shirt. Her hands wanted to explore more, but her mind wouldn’t let them. She couldn’t accost him in his sleep. What kind of girl did something like that?
Heat warmed her cheeks, hoping he wasn’t aware of her wanton behavior as he slept peacefully. Carefully, she tried to separate herself from him without waking him, moving to the chair across from the couch.
Her eyes roamed over his sleeping form. She could see the stubble on his face in the moonlight. He typically kept a shadow of a beard, tamed but not clean-shaven. It was approaching slightly scruffy and it looked good on him. Masculine. Her fingertips yearned to reach out and feel his prickly jawline.
Micah had always wondered what stubble would feel like scraping against the softness of her own skin. Drew was so long ago, but he had always preferred a close shave. She had imagined it in her dream, but wanted to feel it for real. Just once.
His chest moved up and down
