Triumphant, I turned to Val.
She looked ready to kill me.
I could deal with that.
“Don’t look so smug. And let me out of here.” She pushed at my chest. “Seriously … I’m feeling claustrophobic.”
Sensing her genuine panic, I winced and slid from the booth to let her out. “Cupid—”
“Don’t call me that!” She shoved past me, her face crumpling just before she rushed away.
I moved to follow her, but suddenly, Mindy was in my face, holding me off. Xander turned out to be at least two inches taller than me, and he stood at Mindy’s back like her bodyguard.
I wasn’t getting past them without going through him first.
Great. I didn’t think beating up Val’s friend would endear her to me.
“I didn’t mean to …” I ran a hand through my hair in exasperation. “I didn’t come here to upset her.”
“Why did you come here?” Mindy didn’t look accusatory. In fact, her entire attitude tonight made me think I could have an ally in her.
“Because our wires have been crossed for more than a goddamn decade. And I came here to clear the air. To be honest. Didn’t quite work out.”
“Val is just pissed because you have the power to hurt her,” Mindy admitted. “But don’t stop trying. As long as you don’t plan to hurt her, don’t stop trying.”
“I don’t plan to hurt her. I plan to love her.”
She grinned, her blue eyes brightening. “Then don’t give up. We’ll be at a vintage market in Somerville on Saturday. I’ll DM you the address on Instagram.”
Feeling a lot more hopeful than I was minutes ago, I raised an eyebrow and teased, “You know my Instagram account?”
“Oh, please … you clearly stalked Val’s Instagram to find us here. The fact that she stalks you should come as no surprise.”
“She stalks me?” I grinned.
She rolled her eyes. “You two are hopeless. You better be there on Saturday, Green.”
“Oh, I’ll be there.”
Chapter Eight
VALENTINE
“What do you think of this one?” I held up a ’50s raffia handbag. “It needs a little TLC, but I think we could make this beautiful and make a killing on it.” At the answering silence, I turned to Mindy to find her scanning the outdoor market. Was she looking for someone or something? “What’s with you? You’ve been distracted all morning.”
Mindy whirled, her short, dark curls flying around her face. “I’m not distracted. You said something about a bag?”
I held it up. “You are definitely distracted.”
“How much?” She turned the tag and frowned. “Let me try to whittle the price down first.”
I let her take the bag to the seller because she was better at haggling than I was, and turned to see if the woman was selling other accessories with potential.
“Do you think this is too yellow for me?”
The familiar voice caught me off guard.
My eyes flew up from the bin I was raking through to find Micah on the opposite side of it, holding a yellow bikini top to his chest. What the hell was he doing here?
I straightened, my hands flying to my hips. “I think it’s too ‘in Somerville’ for you. What are you doing here?”
First, he hunted me down using Instagram (according to Mindy) and ruined my date, and now he was here? I hadn’t posted I was at this market.
How did he—
Mindy!
Whipping my head in her direction, I found her watching us with avid interest. At my glare, she gave me a half grimace, half smile, waved the bag at me as if in triumph, and then darted off.
That little interfering … “I’m going to kill her.”
“Don’t.” Micah dumped the bikini back in the bin and stepped into my space. I wanted to retreat, but that would only prove he affected me. “She’s just trying to help.”
“Help with what? Mess with my head again?”
He frowned down at me. His gray eyes were too easy to drown in. I wanted to look away. I didn’t want to be sucked back in. “Why did you say what you said in your store if you didn’t want to clear the air between us?”
“I said what I said because it was true, and I wanted you to know I know what kind of person you really are.”
Hurt flashed in his eyes and guilt crushed me. “You don’t really mean that.”
“Micah, why are you here?”
“You know why.” He took hold of my upper arms and bent his head toward mine. His expression was everything I’d ever wanted from him when he looked at me. Yet now that I had it, I was terrified. “You have to know that I have always felt the same way. From the moment I first saw you.”
I shook my head.
“I just … for so long, I felt like I owed your parents. I didn’t want to upset them.”
“So you wanted me. Just not enough?”
His grip on me tightened. “You remember the day I came to see you? It was Valentine’s Day, and when I got to your apartment, you had that guy there. Your boss.”
“Hard to forget. You assumed some pretty not-nice things.”
“What I should have said”—Micah pulled me closer, his breathing uneven—“was that I was sorry. I was saying all those shitty things because I had come over to tell you I loved you and I wanted to be with you. And I was angry and jealous as hell.”
Oh my God. I’d been right all along, and I’d let my mother make me think differently.
“Micah.” All that time wasted. “You should have said something. He was just a fling! If you had just said something—”
“I know. I know.” He wrapped me in his arms, burying his face in my neck with a groan. Was this happening? It felt so surreal. “Christ, I know. You have no idea how much I wished I’d said something.”
“I should have said something too,” I whispered, softening beneath his touch. I couldn’t let him take all the blame. “It’s on me too.”
“Go on a date with me.”
I stepped out of his embrace at the abrupt demand. My heart raced. Excited butterflies sprung to life in my stomach. But fear had a tight grip on me.
Micah had the power to devastate me.
And too many people I’d loved had hurt me already.
I didn’t know if I could trust that he wouldn’t do it again. “We’re too different.”
He scowled. “That’s bullshit.”
I let out a huff of laughter. “It would never work. It’s been years, Micah. We’re strangers now.”
“No. We’re two sides of the same coin. We got split in half for a while, but we’ll fit good as new again if you’ll let it happen.”
Why did he have to be so romantic? “You have to mean this, Micah. This can’t just be because you miss me and are confusing our old friendship for something else.”
“We were never friends.”
I flinched like he’d hit me.
“I mean,” he hurried to explain, “I never just thought of you as a friend. I don’t go around fantasizing about making love to my friends.”