The Prelude of Ella and Micha (The Secret 0.5)(9)
Author: Jessica Sorensen

“Micha, I’m over here.” Tammy snaps her fingers in front of my face. I tear my attention away from Ella and look up at Tammy. Her hands are on her hips and her eyes are flooded with irritation. “You’re supposed to be kissing me,” she says hotly then wets her lips with her tongue.

“Kissing … yeah. Okay.” I stand up and plant probably the quickest, tongueless, sloppiest kiss in history. Then I swing around her and move to the bottle in the middle of the circle.

“What the hell, Micha?” Tammy seethes from behind me. “That so didn’t even count.”

Ignoring her protests and Renee’s scowls, I wrap my fingers around the glass bottle. I’ve played it enough that I’m fairly confident I can pull off what I’m about to do. What I’m not confident in is how Ella is going to handle.

Still, I do it.

I spin the bottle with just enough force that it goes around the circle one time and a little over, landing right on Ella.

Her eyes widen as it points to her then her gaze cuts to me. Her lips part to protest, but I quickly shrug like what are you going to do? Then I kneel down on the carpet in front of her, noting how excited I am to kiss her, like I was at fourteen. I never get this excited for a kiss. Ever. Ella’s got me two for two.

“It won’t hurt. I promise,” I feel the need to say as I lean into her because she looks absolutely horrified. Maybe I should back off. Not be so selfish. Walk away because this might be too much for her to handle.

But I want it. Badly. Want her. Even in front of a room full of people who are gawking at us like they’re about to watch a porno.

“Micha,” she whispers as I dip my lips toward hers. “I think …” She trails off as I move in closer, her chest ravenously heaving as she struggles for oxygen. Her hands come up, her fingers folding around my arms, her nails piercing into my flesh. The heat of our breaths mixes as our lips inch closer.

When only a whisper of air is left, she lets out the softest whimper that nearly sends me soaring through the roof. I place a hand on each side of her, pinning her between my arms, my fingers gripping at the carpet for support. Fuck, I haven’t even touched her yet, and my body feels like it’s going to combust.

Back away.

Don’t do it.

Stop …

Oh, my God …

Our lips connect and her hold on me constricts, begs for me to keep her together. I want to, but I feel like I’m about to collapse myself. Because, just like that, I’m kissing my best friend. I’m kissing my best friend who I’m in love with and who might not love me back—at least, not in the same way. But I don’t care. I want to do more. I want to kiss her while laying her back and spreading open her legs so I can grind my hips against her like we were doing on the dance floor only a half an hour ago.

There’s not even any tongue to the kiss, yet it’s consuming, savoring, heart stopping. It’s a kiss I wish would last forever, but as quick as it started, it ends as Ella springs back.

“God dammit, Micha,” she curses as she turns and trips to her feet. Then she bolts out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Jesus, what a freak,” Tammy mutters. When I glare at her, she narrows her eyes at me. “What? She is.”

Shaking my head, I chase after Ella, disregarding Ethan’s protest to just let her cool off. By the time I make it to the living room, the crowd has doubled, and the air is so stuffy I can barely breathe. Still, I search for her in the sea of bodies, needing to find her, to fix this.

But how exactly are you going to do that?

After doing countless laps around the house, I finally stop inside the kitchen, getting discouraged. “Fuck!” I growl. Finding Ella is going to be nearly impossible with this many people around.

Pissed off at myself, I shove through the people, heading for the back door so I can go outside and smoke. Maybe a little fresh air and nicotine will clear my head. When I step out the door, though, I find exactly what I was looking for.

Ella is sitting on the icy bottom stair of the porch with a cup in her hand with her jacket off and goose bumps dot her flesh. For a brief moment, I stand at the top of the stairway, staring at her, trying to figure out what the heck to say. I’m sorry? Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m the opposite of sorry. That kiss made me realize just how much I was missing out on—behind the connection of lips, there’s supposed to be emotion, passion, heat, and intensity instead of boredom.

“What are you doing out here without a jacket.” I sink down beside her and reach for the zipper on my hoodie. “You’re going to freeze to death.”

Her body jolts from my appearance, and she drops her cup. Clear liquid spills across the snow as it rolls down the steps and into driveway. Her eyelashes flutter furiously as her gaze locks on me.

“What are you doing out here?” she asks, her breath reeking of vodka.

Jesus, what did she do, drink a whole damn bottle in the twenty minutes it took me to find her?

“I’m saving your ass from freezing.” I shuck off my jacket and drape it over her shoulders.

“I’m not cold.” It takes her a moment before she stubbornly gives in and slips her arms through the sleeves. Then she lowers her head into her hands. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” I ask, even though I know exactly what she’s talking about.

She scowls at me. “You know what. Make that bottle purposefully land on me.”

“You know me better than I thought,” I respond, searching her eyes for an indication that I haven’t fucked up our friendship. But she’s indecipherable. “Was it really that bad, though?”

“Depends on why you did it.” Her voice wobbles the slightest bit.

I shrug, stretching my legs out as I stare up at the stars. “Out of curiosity, I guess.”

“Curiosity of what?” She lifts her head. “We’ve already done the whole curious kissing thing. Why do we need to do it again?”

I rub my chilled arms. “Maybe I just wanted to see if things had changed.” If my feelings had changed. My feelings for you. And they have. They really, really have. More than I realized.

“Micha, I …” Her breath puffs out in a cloud in front of her face as she begins to panic. “Please, just say you did it for fun, and it didn’t mean anything,” she whispers, pleads, begs. “Because I can’t handle anything else.”

My heart breaks.

Shatters.

Scatters across the ground.