The Secret of Ella and Micha

ruins. When I saw it in the light, I practically passed out because it doesn’t look like an accident anyone would walk away from; the driver’s door is caved in and the front fender fell completely off.
    “This is going to leave an awesome battle scar.” He pushes the bandages back down over the wound.
    “I’m glad you think so.” I read the email that showed up in my inbox the day after the accident. Turns out, I got the internship at the museum and now I have no idea what to do. I want to do it—it’s a great opportunity, but I also don’t want to leave him.
    “What are you reading?” he asks, sliding his legs off the bed, starting to get to his feet.
    “Nothing. I was just looking through my emails.” I shut the computer screen off, climb onto the bed with him, and lean back against the headboard, stretching my legs out.
    He points at the drawing of the broken mirror on my wall. “I like that one. Especially the guitar part.”
    It turned out to be my best piece, full of memories, and a future I wasn’t able to see until I finally let go. A freedom given to me by Micha because he refused to let me go.
    “Me too,” I agree. “I think I’ll probably turn it in as one of my art projects one day.”
    “It’s got a lot of meaning in it,” he comments.
    I smile and slide down, putting my head next to his. “I know.”
    He rolls to his side carefully, so he doesn’t hurt his shoulder and we’re lying face to face. “Where’s your head, Ella May? Ever since the accident, you’ve been really quiet.”
    I’m so close to him I can see the dark specks of blue in his aqua eyes. I’ve been quiet because that night made me realize something important. For a split second, I thought I’d lost him and it opened up my heart and freed what I’d buried deep inside me that night on the bridge.
    I look into his eyes, no longer afraid of what’s in them, but afraid I’ll lose what they carry. “I just don’t ever want to lose you.”
    His eyebrows dip together as he props up onto his elbow. “Is that what it’s been about? The accident? Because I’m fine.” He points to the bandages. “It’s just a tiny scrape.”
    “I know you’re okay,” I say, sounding choked. “But for a second I didn’t think you were.”
    “Hey.” He cups my cheek and kisses me tenderly. “I’m okay. You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
    I take a deep breath and let it out before I can suck it back in. “Micha, I love you.”

Chapter 22

    Micha
    She looks terrified as hell, her eyes round, and her body is trembling as she says, “I love you.”
    My smile breaks through. “I know you do. I have ever since the day on the bridge.” She looks confused so I explain further. “When you tried to leave, I caught up with you and took you up to our spot by the lake to calm you down. When you did, you told me that you loved me.”
    Her lips part. “I did… why didn’t you tell me?”
    “Because I wanted you to tell me again,” I say. “When you were a little less out of it. Took you long enough, by the way.” Her lips expand to a smile and I can’t help but kiss her.
    My body rolls onto her on its own accord, even though it hurts like hell to use my arm to keep my weight off her. She trails her fingers up my back as her legs fall to the side, giving me permission to press up closer to her. It’s what we’ve been doing every night for the last few days, almost reaching the end, but not quite.
    Suddenly, she jerks back and I blink my eyes open. “What’s wrong?”
    Biting on her lip, she sits up and I lean back, giving her room as she slips her shirt and bra off and throws them on the floor. Locks of her auburn hair fall across her chest. Grinning, I move my lips for hers again, but she shakes her head and stands up on the bed, slipping her shorts and panties off and discarding them on the floor.
    I’ve seen her naked a couple of times over the week—and once when we were sixteen and she left her curtain open—but each time gets my adrenaline pumping. She kneels down in front of me and kisses me passionately, her nipples brushing against my chest. Her body is shaking in a way that means she’s nervous.
    “Make love to me,” she whispers against my lips.
    I’ve been dreaming about those words leaving her lips since I was sixteen. “Are you sure?”
    She nods with a sparkle in her eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
    I wait a few seconds longer to give her time to back out if she needs to. She remains