Page 5 of Keeping Knight

“By the time we tracked Daisy down, she had licked the frosting off half the cookies,” Micah recalls. “Blue frosting. So her entire snout was blue. We brought her to the vet, of course, to make sure she hadn’t eaten anything she shouldn’t. Fortunately, she was fine. But the blue still hasn’t completely faded.”

As he tells me about the dogs, there’s a tiny part of me that wishes Micah and I were dating, so I’d have a reason to meet them. If we were actually dating, I bet he’d bring me to Fox & Falcon sometimes. I could play with the dogs. Watch how they’re trained.

And that’s the only appeal of dating Micah? a knowing voice in the back of my head whispers. Really? Just the dogs? Not his broad shoulders and well-muscled arms and the abs that might be an eight-pack, or possibly ten? Not his bright blue eyes and enigmatic smile? Not the way he treats you, which is ten times nicer than Liam ever did?

Shut up, I retort silently. Who asked you, anyway? And so what if I admired his abs? It’s not like I’m going to do anything about it.

By the time we reach the entrance to my apartment building, it’s almost nine o’clock. Feeling a little bad that Micah still has to get back to his place in Midtown; after I thank him for walking with me, I offer a weak, “You know, you don’t have to walk me home after class. I really appreciate it, but it’s out of your way. And now you have to go back⁠—”

“I don’t mind,” he interrupts. “And it’s not out of my way.”

I punch in the access code for the building before replying, “Of course it’s out of your way. Our class is in Midtown. Then you walked with me all the way to the Upper East Side. And now you have to turn around and go back to basically where we started.”

Micah waits for me to open the door and follows me inside. “Not quite. My apartment is on Lexington. The class is over on 6th.”

“Close enough.” I hold his gaze. “I appreciate it. I really do. I just feel bad. By the time you get home, it’ll be nine-thirty, and you said you’re usually up by five...”

“Ruby.” His features sober. “I don’t mind. First off, I like walking. It’s good exercise. And I enjoy walking with you.”

Before I can respond, he adds, “Plus, I don’t like the idea of you walking home alone at night. I don’t care that it’s the city, and thousands of women do it. You’re not thousands of women. You’re my friend, and I want to make sure you’re safe.”

Oh.

Any other arguments I had deflate.

And really, I do feel safer when Micah walks me home. I just feel bad, like I’m taking advantage of him. But if he’s insisting…

“Okay,” I concede. “But I don’t want you to feel obligated. If you have plans, or you’re just not feeling up to it…”

“That reminds me,” he says, “it’s getting dark so early now, I was thinking I could pick you up as well. What time do you usually leave for class?”

“Micah, you don’t need to do that. There are plenty of people on the street at that time. Nothing’s going to happen⁠—”

“You don’t know that.” His eyes turn a deep, stormy blue. “A friend of mine was attacked right on the street. Not at midnight, or three in the morning, but evening. When there were plenty of people around. It can happen anytime, Ruby. Anywhere.”

A small shudder grips me. “Oh.”

“I’m not trying to scare you,” Micah continues. “But it’s not a big deal coming to get you. And I’d feel better, knowing you’re safe.” His lips tug into a half-smile. “So, really, you’d be helping me out by saying yes.”

I could argue with him. Insist that I’ve been walking in New York City for ten years and I’ve been just fine. But what would be the point? I’d just make things weird between us and come off as ungrateful.

So instead, I just nod. “Okay.”

“Good.” His smile brightens, and he gives my upper arm a little squeeze. “So I’ll be here next Tuesday at”—he raises his brows at me—“five-twenty? Five-thirty?”

“Five-twenty. I like to get there a little early. If that’s okay.”

Micah holds my gaze. “Five-twenty is perfect.” He stops to think. “You still have my number, right? In case you need to change the time? Or cancel?”

“I do.” We exchanged numbers a few weeks ago, although neither of us has texted or called each other since then.

“Great.” He gives my arm another little squeeze. “Alright. I’d better get home. Sampson will want to go out for his nighttime walk. You okay going up to your apartment by yourself?”

“Of course.” It’s not a doorman building, but it’s got plenty of security. And my neighbors are really good about not letting anyone inside who doesn’t belong here. “Have a good night. And thanks again for walking me home.”

After I’ve said goodbye to Micah and checked my mail, I head up the stairs to my fourth-floor apartment. We have an elevator, but it’s finicky at best, and I’d rather not spend the next hour trapped inside while I wait for the mechanic to fix it.

As I hurry up the stairs, I have a fleeting thought of wishing I’d asked Micah to come up with me. Not necessarily to come inside, but just to walk me up there. I don’t really think anyone is lurking in the stairwell, waiting to attack me, but his story about his friend was a little unsettling.