Page 54 of Micah

She's just staring at me.

So I do the only useful thing left to do.

I walk toward her.

She doesn't move.

I stop close enough to reach for the garbage bags.

“Here.”

Our fingers brush as I take them from her.

Warm.

Soft.

Jesus.

Just that tiny accidental touch is enough to tighten something low in my chest. And something hardening in my jeans.

Fuck.

“They're heavy,” she says quietly.

“I noticed.”

I turn before she can argue.

Two long strides.

The dumpster lid groans as I throw both bags inside.

Done.

Easy.

I wipe my hands on the rag one more time before turning back around.

And she's...

Closer.

Much closer.

I don't remember hearing her move.

She must've followed me.

She's standing right there.

Close enough that I can smell her.

Not perfume.

Just...

Sunshine.