Micah was shocked by the fierceness with which the words popped into his mind. Thankfully, he was cognizant enough not to actually say them. Instead, Micah settled for muttering: “If you try to Venmo me for this, I’ll fucking murder you in your sleep.”

Damon stiffened… then he chuckled, a hand coming up to half-ruffle/half-tug at his hair. “Brat,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of Micah’s head.

But from the way Micah’s stomach warmed, he might as well have just said “I love you, too”.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Excuse my language, but what the ever-loving fuck, Micah?” Tessa’s face was almost as red as her hair, and she was gesticulating wildly with her fork, a bit of spaghetti still hanging limply from the prongs. “Did you really just wake up and think, you know what? Today, I choose self-destruction.”

Micah, for his part, was caught off guard by the intensity of her reaction. He’d been looking forward to telling her the nitty-gritty details of his trip to Italy with Damon for days. He’s wanted to explain the house (mansion) in detail, and tell her about the springs, and most importantly, describe the mind-blowing sex he’d had with the man.

(He couldn’t believe he’d actually lost time after that second orgasm – like he’d transcended onto an entirely different plane of reality, where everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.)

Micah had been a ball of nerves the morning after. Especially when, despite having fallen asleep in Damon’s warm embrace, he’d woken up to a cold, empty bed. He’d attempted to brace himself for the worst after that, crawling out of the covers and tugging on his abandoned briefs.

Different scenarios had run through his mind.

Maybe Damon wanted to pretend that nothing had happened, and he’d be distant with Micah until he got the hint.

Or maybe Damon would sit him down and flat out tell him that the night before had been a mistake. Perhaps he’d be nice about it, or perhaps not, but either way, the man’s obvious regret would kill him.

Maybe Damon would even finally fire him.

Micah’s stomach clenched at the thought.

Thankfully, before his spiraling thoughts could grow too catastrophic, Damon had surprised him.

By waltzing into the bedroom, wearing nothing but the apron Micah had presented him with the night before, holding a platter of stacked crepes in his hands.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” Damon demanded, a frown on his face as he spied Micah standing in the middle of the room, naked but for his underwear.

Micah blinked. “Why aren’t you in bed?” he shot back when his brain finally recovered from the sight.