Page 98 of Micah

And yes, there’s a big fucking difference.

I kick the truck door shut with my boot and start toward the porch.

Halfway there, she stirs.

“Mmm.”

Her eyelashes flutter.

Then those warm brown eyes blink open.

She looks around in sleepy confusion before realizing she's in my arms.

“Oh!”

She jerks slightly.

“Micah?”

“I got you.”

“You’re carrying me?”

I nod. Her face floods pink.

“But why? Why are you carrying me?”

“You fell asleep.”

“I can still walk.”

“I know. But I wanted to.”

She looks down between us.

Then back up.

“Micah, I'm too heavy.”

I stop dead in my tracks.

“What?”

“You shouldn't be carrying me.”

I stare into her eyes.

I don’t blink.

I can’t.

I’m stunned, wondering if I’d somehow heard her wrong.

“You think you're too heavy?”

She winces.

“I know I am.”