“I don’t want gifts and attention, alright?” Micah snapped. He huffed. “I mean, it’s nice, obviously – especially the attention. But… I just- I want him, alright?”

It was a thought that had been lurking in the back of his mind for a while now, but it was the first time he’d voiced it aloud.

“Are you trying to say you’re in love with him?” Tessa demanded incredulously.

“What? No!” Micah exclaimed. “I mean… I don’t know. What is love, anyway?” He glanced at the speedometer, wondering if 30 MPH was slow enough that he’d dodge any life-threatening injuries if he just yeeted himself out of the car right then and there.

Tessa, for her part, looked like she might shove him out the door herself. She probably hoped he would hit his head on the way down, and the blow might trigger his brain to regenerate some of the critical thinking cells he was obviously lacking.

“Micah, you hardly know him, and what you do know is that he’s a criminal.” That seemed to be her go-to argument. “And not some petty vandal or small-time arsonist. If Damon’s a mafia don as you claim – that means he’s violent, and he’s dangerous, and that he’s got more blood on his hands than most blood banks even have in storage at any given point in time.”

Micah did not want to hear this.

“Obviously, he thinks you’re a catch – and you are – but what happens if he finds out you work for the police? He knows where you live, Micah, and he’s so rich, I wouldn’t be shocked if he wiped his ass with hundred dollar bills. He could find you out so easily if he wanted to. And what if when he does, he hurts you? Or worse?”

Micah’s knuckles were white where his hands gripped the steering wheel. “Damon wouldn’t do that.” He didn’t realize how much he actually believed it until he was forced to say it out loud.

“But it’s a risk you’re willing to take?” Tessa pressed.

“Yes, okay?!” Micah snapped, slamming on the brake when the light in front of him turned red. He turned to face Tessa. “I get it. I’m a reckless moron who’s putting everything on the line for a man who doesn’t even like me – not how I want him to, anyway. It doesn’t make sense, and I can’t explain my decision-making away with logic because it’s not logical. I know that; I do. But I’m doing it anyway.”

The drinker behind him honked their horn, and seeing that the light had turned green, Micah eased off the brake.

Tessa was quiet while they drove down the road. Then…

“Okay.”

Micah blinked. “Okay?” he repeated. “That’s it?”