Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I said softly, “You were my first real friend. I’m sorry I made you work for it.”
He gave me a hug and told me, “I’d do it a million times over, Jas.”
When he let go of me, I asked, “Do you think I still have walls up?”
“A few, but you’re getting so much better about letting people in.” After a moment, he said, “Talk to Micah, Jasper. Tell him how you feel. I really believe he’s the right man for you. He has so much love to give, and he wants nothing more than to take care of you and make you happy.”
“I will, in January.”
“Can you really wait that long? I mean, I get what you’re saying about not making things awkward, on the off chance he’s not there yet. But in the meantime, you’re—”
I finished for him. “Collecting a paycheck and blurring the lines between doing a job and having a real relationship.”
“How are you going to keep that up for several more months?”
“I don’t know,” I muttered. “I really don’t.”
Chapter 10
The following week, on a quiet Monday afternoon, I sat there staring at the computer in Micah’s office. He was sitting right beside me, and he said, “You can do it, baby.” I turned my head to look into his dark eyes. They crinkled at the corners when he smiled at me.
I took a deep breath, focused on the screen again, and clicked the upload button on Sutherlin’s admissions page. When I switched over to my email, there was an automated response waiting for me. It said: Your application has been received. Thank you for your interest in Sutherlin College of Fine Arts.
As panic welled up in me, I muttered, “I don’t know which one scares me more—getting turned down, or actually getting in.”
“Come here, Jasper.” When I climbed onto his lap, he wrapped his arms around me and murmured, “You’re actually shaking.”
“It feels like so much is riding on this.” I tucked my head into the curve between his neck and shoulder as I told him, “It’s the first time I’ve put myself out there like that and tried to make a plan for my future, but what if it falls through?”
“It won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. You’re a brilliant artist, and they’ll see that.”
“I hope so.”
After a pause, he asked, “Why didn’t you make plans before this?”
“There was no point, because my life was basically a treadmill. I was just caught up in getting by day-to-day, but I wasn’t really going anywhere. Everything changed when you offered me that huge amount of money. Once I realized I could retire, I finally started thinking about what I wanted to do next.”
He stroked my hair as he said softly, “You never open the envelopes I give you, do you?”
“No.”
“Why not?” I just shrugged, and he said, “I wish you’d open them.” He made that request about every other week, but so far I’d ignored it.
“I will.” I hated talking about the fact that he was paying me, so I climbed off his lap and changed the subject by asking, “Is it too early for a drink? Because I could really use one.”
“It’s never too early.”
He led the way, then stepped behind the bar and asked, “What can I make for you?”
“Surprise me.”
He took out his bartender’s guide, flipped it open on the bar top, and jabbed a page with his index finger. Then he squinted at it and said, “It landed on a Midori Collins. Want me to try again?”
“Nope, let’s go with that.”
Surprisingly, he actually had a bottle of the melon-flavored liqueur, and in less than a minute he put a bright green drink in front of me. He’d made himself one too, and we picked up our glasses and clinked them together as he said, “Cheers.” We both took a sip, and he asked, “What do you think?”
“I like it. I’m trying to think what it reminds me of.”
“A melted Jolly Rancher candy.”
“That’s it.”
Once we finished our drinks, he said, “Dance with me, Jasper.”
He took my hand and led me to the little dance floor, and I leaned against him while he selected some songs on the juke box. When the original Ben E. King version of “Stand by Me” began to play, I grinned at him and said, “You’re taking it old school.”
“Yes, I am.” Micah took my hand and spun me, and then he pulled me close. As we swayed to the music, I held onto him and breathed in his clean, familiar scent. At the same time, I wondered how much I should read into his song choice and its lyrics. Probably not a lot. He might have just been in the mood for 1960s R&B.
We danced through three 60s-era slow songs, and then he leaned back just enough to meet my gaze. He ran his knuckles over my cheek, and then he leaned in and kissed me. It started off sweet and tender, but then it deepened and intensified.