The Secret of Ella and Micha

walls.
    “I don’t bite, Ella May.” There is a challenge in Micha’s eyes. “Unless you ask me to.”
    Everyone at the table is watching me. Not wanting to make a scene, I sink down on his lap. Ethan targets Micha with a bewildered look, which Micha ignores and steals a scone out of a basket in the middle of the table.
    He pops it into his mouth. “So what time’s Open Mic?”
    Ethan’s dark eyebrows plunge together. “Why? Are you thinking about playing again? Cause’ all I can say is it’s about freakin’ time.”
    “What do you mean again?” I ask, grabbing a scone myself. “Why hasn’t he been playing?”
    Ethan shoves up the sleeves of his shirt, crosses his arms on the table, and directs Micha with their secret-code look I have never been able to crack. I revolve my body to look at Micha, but instantly regret it. His eyes are too intense and I’m thrown out of my element for a second.
    “You stopped playing?” I ask him. “Why would you do that? Isn’t it your dream still?”
    He shrugs, snaking his arms around my waist. “It’s not the same without you here watching me.”
    “There were times I didn’t watch you play.” I put my hands on his shoulders. “Even when I lived here.”
    He shakes his head and wisps of his blonde hair fall across his forehead. “That’s not true. You never missed one.”
    I think back, knowing he’s right. “I don’t want you to stop living your life because I’m not here anymore.”
    “And I don’t want you to be anywhere but here.” He squeezes my hip and I instinctively jump at the tingling heat that spirals down between my legs.
    “What can I get you?” The waitress interrupts us. We all read off what we want, and the waitress gets particularly giggly when she writes down Micha’s order, even though I’m sitting on his lap.
    Her name is Kenzie and I’ve never liked her. She used to help Stacy Harris torment this girl we went to school with, who was in a wheelchair. I casually lean back against Micha’s chest, as if I’m doing it by accident. No one seems to notice except for the waitress. And Micha. His heart beat speeds up as if the nearness of my body is driving him mad.
    She frowns and tucks the order book into her apron. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
    I wait for Micha to call me out, but he stays quiet and keeps his hands on the tops of my bare thighs. I know it’s wrong and that he’s not mine. I made that clear the day I bailed, but I can’t seem to help myself. Ever since we were kids, I always felt the need to keep him away from girls who aren’t good enough for him.
    Old habits die hard.

    Micha
    Ethan is looking at me like I’m an idiot. Probably because I’m smiling like an idiot, but I can’t help myself. Ella got territorial with the waitress. She’s never done that before, not even before she left.
    “This band’s interesting,” Lila hollers over the banjo band playing up on stage. “Is this the kind of music you play?”
    Ethan, Renee, and I burst out laughing. Even Ella covers her mouth, trying really hard not to laugh.
    “No sweetie, this isn’t what I play.” I gulp my coffee. “Mines more…”
    “Hot and sexy,” Ella says and I stare at her. She ignores my gaze and adds, “Think more along the lines of Spill Canvas.”
    Lila brushes some crumbs off the table. “That band you’re always listening to when you’re studying?”
    Ella nods, but shifts awkwardly. “That’s the one.”
    It makes me feel better that she still listens to the same music. At least that hasn’t changed. I keep one hand on her leg, afraid if I release her completely, she’ll run off again. I steal another scone from the basket and pop it into my mouth. Lila starts chatting with Ethan and Renee gets on her cellphone.
    I sweep Ella’s hair to the side and put my lips to her ear. “So you think I’m hot and sexy, huh?”
    She bites back a smile, pretending to be deeply immersed in the banjo song. “No, I said your music is hot and sexy.”
    “It’s all the same.” I dare a kiss against her shoulder, relishing the softness of her skin, wanting her so God damn bad I’m getting a hard on just thinking about it.
    Ella notices it too and squirms around in my lap, making it worse. “Down boy,” she jokes with a nervous laugh, then presses her lips together and starts to stand up.
    I trap her down by the hips and conform her backside onto my lap. We fit together so perfectly it’s mind blowing and all