Page 6 of Embracing the Beat
Her shoulders tense. Dammit, that didn’t come out right.
“Shit, Mikey, I’m sorry—”
“I do. But only a few minutes here or there,” she says, nibbling on her plump bottom lip.
My attention snags on the motion, my body realizing this isn’t the same Mikey I remember from her sophomore year in high school—the last time I saw her before moving to Pittsburgh. The gangly fifteen-year-old with braces and hair that couldn’t be contained unless it was scraped back into a tight ponytail is gone. The girl is now a woman. Mikey is now Michaela. Caramel colored hair in smooth waves, wide blue eyes the color of the autumn sky, and light pink lips that beg to be sampled.
Oh, hell no.
I slam the lid on those thoughts. Even if I was ready to date again, Mikey is off limits. She’s like a little sister to me. She is the younger sister of my best friend. I’ve known this family since Sawyer and I were seven and she was a baby. Sleep deprivation is causing temporary insanity.
“Why aren’t you staying with your parents?” Her words interrupt my internal lecture.
“They moved to California last year, closer to Whit and her family. She earned my parents’ undying devotion by gifting them their first grandchild,” I say with a smile and roll of my eyes.
Her lips tilt at the corners, but not into the smile I remember. Dark shadows mar the skin under her eyes, and she’s so pale she’s practically transparent.
“Are you okay, Mike?” I take a step toward her, stopping when she shudders.
“Me? I’m fine. Just tired. Thankful to be home now that the tour is done.”
“A tour, huh? What’s it like to be a big-time rock star?” I ask.
“Oh, um…” She fidgets with the frayed cuff of her sweatshirt, reminding me of the girl she used to be. “It’s great. Everything I ever hoped for.”
The smile she gives me doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Maybe she’s tired. Fuck, I’m tired.
“How long are you staying?”
“Oh, um, I guess a few weeks…” She spins back to the coffeemaker and turns it off. “I’m really tired. I think I’ll try coffee in a few hours. Sorry I woke you up.”
I wave away her apology. “Don’t worry about it.”
She grabs her guitar case and shoulders the duffel from the counter.
“Here,” I say, gesturing to her bag.
The duffel is surprisingly light when she hands it over. Don’t all girls pack thirty pounds of shit for their face and hair? Ashley always did. It was a miracle if we could leave for the weekend with only two suitcases.
I follow Mike out of the kitchen, flipping off the lights as I do. I also try not to stare at the way her jeans hug the curves of her ass as she walks upstairs. Temporary insanity is a bitch.
She stops in front of the closed door to her room. It’s still decorated with a carved sign spelling her name, along with a “Girls Only” decal that kept both of her brothers and me out of her room.
“H-how long are you staying?” She meets my gaze, and my breath catches in my lungs.
Her eyes have always dominated her face—it was creepy when she was little. They were so big compared to her tiny stature. But now they’re…captivating.
Dude, you need more sleep.
“Until I have enough for a deposit for an apartment and a little bit of savings. In return, I’m helping with the remodels your mom wants.”
“Remodels for what?”
I shrug. “Not sure. Just got the list from your mom and dad when I got here.”
“I thought you were a teacher.”
