Page 56 of The Darkest Chase

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Page 56 of The Darkest Chase

Micah: Tell me one thing, woman.

I wait while he types with my breath stalled.

Micah: Why the hell are you trying to be anything besides your own gorgeous self?

I gasp.

The man knows how to hit hard, not mincing words. He’s also annoyingly right.

…I guess I’m trying to be the type of girl Xavier would find appealing.

Micah: Talia Grey is appealing as hell. Just be comfortable. Be you. The more real you are, the more natural you’ll be around him.

He’s right again, but I’m stuck on one thing, trying not to grin like an idiot.

Talia Grey is appealing as hell.

I stare down at my phone, biting my lower lip so hard it hurts, but I hardly notice.

He can’t mean that the way it sounds, can he?

Before I can figure out what to say back, he texts again.

Micah: Besides, you’re less Ronald McDonald and more Raggedy Ann.

Oh, thanks. Such an upgrade, I text back, but I can’t help laughing, the tension relaxing a little.

Micah just has this way.

Somehow, he makes me feel better with the smallest things, and I don’t think he realizes it. He’s such a quiet man, but he speaks with certainty—and when he really unsheathes himself, there’s this steady, unwavering conviction in every word.

Micah: Raggedy Ann’s cuter. You feel better now?

I am. I’m going to be a little late to meet Xavier, but I think I can get myself together and out the door.

Micah: No need. That’s not why I was asking.

I smile, running my thumb along the edge of my phone. I know. But I want to do this anyway. I’ll text you when I get there.

Micah: If I don’t hear from you in three hours, I’m coming after you.

My eyes widen.

Three hours? What if I’m working there all day?

Micah: Check in. Let me know you’re safe.

There it is again.

He’s so adamant, despite the fact that he’s a silent sentinel. It’s all part of what makes him so—

So Micah.

I will, I promise. Then I put my phone down and try to make myself as presentable as possible.

It’s easier to think with Micah’s concern and protective fierceness buoying me. I take another quick shower, washing my hair again and scrubbing my botched makeup off, then towel dry my hair.

I redo my makeup—forgetting the foundation this time and just going for natural accents. A soft-pink lip gloss and subtle touches of rose along the creases of my eyelids, accented by a little liner and mascara, should do the trick.




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