“Now, I know it’s not the same.” He removes the cupcake from the bag and balances it in the palm of my hand. “But I think it’s close.”

Tears sting at my eyes as images of my mother flash through my mind. It was her thirty-fifth birthday and I was twelve. When I asked her what she would like for a present, she told me she wanted to bake cupcakes all day. It was a good moment in my life, although most people would probably view it as strange. But she was happy. I was happy. Micha was happy. And the happiness brought a rare serenity to our lives.

“You remembered.” A tear escapes from my eye and rolls down my cheek.

“Of course I remembered.” He wipes away the stray tear. “How could I not remember the day I had to make dozens and dozens of cupcakes?”

Through my tears, I manage to smile at the memory. “I couldn’t tell her no. It was her birthday and she seemed so happy.”

“And I was perfectly happy to do it,” he says, wiping another tear away with his finger. “Although I did end up puking my guts out because I ate too much batter.”

“It’s a good memory of my mom.” I shut my eyes, force back the tears, and release a shaky breath. “Rare, but good.”

When I open my eyes again, he’s watching me closely, like he’s afraid I might break. I dip my finger into the frosting and lick it off.

He restrains a grin. “How is it?”

I lick some frosting off my lip. “Really, really good.”

A woman of about twenty-five or so, with curly blonde hair and sharp cheekbones, sits down in the seat next to Micha. She ogles him as she tucks her bag underneath her seat and shuts her phone off.

I lean forward and Micha winces, startled. “You have an admirer.”

He glances over his shoulder and when he looks back at me, his face is lit with entertainment. “Just one of my many.”

I lick a mouthful of frosting off the top of the cupcake, laughing, and he watches me intently, dragging his lip ring between his teeth.

“You know what I love?” he asks and I expect something dirty to come out of his mouth. “How big your eyes are.” He puts a finger to the corner of my eye, touching it delicately. “They’re beautiful.”

The woman rolls her eyes as she buckles her seatbelt and grabs a magazine from the pocket on the back of the seat in front of her.

“You know what I love?” I ask, and he shakes his head. “When you’re lying naked in my bed.”

She pulls a disgusted face as she flips through the pages and Micha’s forehead furrows.

Cupping my hand around my mouth, I put my lips near his ear. “She’s listening to our conversation and getting annoyed, so I thought I’d have fun with her.”

An evil smile expands across his face. “You know what I love? Your naked body underneath mine, all hot and sweaty.”

She huffs exasperatedly and turns her back toward us to face the aisle.

Grinning, I bite into the cupcake. “That was fun.”

“That was fun,” he agrees and turns off his phone.

The plane begins to roll backward and it takes forever, but finally we’re rushing into the sky. I breathe in and out, tapping my fingers on my legs, not really sure why I’m all wound up, other than it seems like I’m putting a lot of trust in the pilot.

Micha’s fingers wrap around my wrist and he kisses my racing pulse. “Relax, everything’s fine.”

I snuggle up to him and rest my head on his shoulder. He brings out his iPod and puts one earbud in his ear. Sweeping my hair to the side, he puts the other one in mine.

He scrolls through the playlists and seconds later “Chalk Line” by Strike Anywhere flips on, the acoustic version, so it’s softer. Leaning into me, he sings along with the lyrics and the sound of his angelic voice lulls me to sleep.

Chapter 12

Micha

After the plane lands and we check into the absurdly fancy hotel my father booked, we decide to go sightseeing. The sidewalks are packed and the traffic is practically at a standstill. It’s midafternoon, but chilly and the buildings are so tall, hardly any sunlight hits their lower sections or the sidewalks.

Ella has on a hooded jacket and fingerless gloves, but she shivers from the cold as she sips on her coffee.

“Are you cold, baby?” I ask, pulling my hood over my head.

She nods with the coffee close to her lips. “I think I might have gotten a little too used to the Vegas weather.”

I step up behind her and rub my hands up and down her arms a few times, building warmth from the friction. “Imagine how bad it’s going to be when we go back home for Christmas. Star Grove is like twice as cold as here.”

She drinks her coffee as I encircle my arms around her, maneuvering us through the crowd. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere for Christmas.”

I return to her side and capture her gaze. “What do you mean you aren’t going? You can’t stay at the campus by yourself for three weeks.”

“I don’t want to go back to an empty house, Micha,” she says. “And I won’t be by myself. Lila’s not going home either.”

We stop at the crosswalk and wait with the crowd for the light to change as traffic zooms by.

“You can stay with me,” I offer. “I would even give you my bed.”

She looks at me crossly. “Just like how you got us two beds in the hotel room?”

“Hey, my dad booked that room,” I say as she picks some pieces of her hair out of her mouth. “It’s not my fault.”

“Yeah right?” She rolls her eyes. “How convenient for you.”

“It’ll be very convenient for me.” I am treading on thin ice. “That way if I’m feeling really hot and bothered I can just get you to put your leg over me and you’ll let me feel you again. You know, you’re kind of naughty when you’re in a dark room.”

She glances at an older guy with thin hair and glasses who is listening to our conversation with a big grin on his face. “That’s not what happened,” she says.

I target an intimidating gaze at the pervert and he quickly turns around. “That’s exactly what happened, pretty girl, and you know it.”

She gulps her coffee to obscure her mortified expression. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Threading my fingers through hers, we walk across the street with the mob of people and stop on the other side to take a look around.

“Did you want to go anywhere special while we’re here?” I ask. “Central Park? We could go ice skating?”

Her head tips back as she shields her eyes and stares up at the Empire State Building stretching toward the sky. “I want to go up there.”

My chest constricts as the memories of her on the bridge rush through me: her standing on the beam over the water, ready to throw away her precious life.

“Are you sure?” I check, releasing a slow breath. “Because there’s a ton of stuff we could do.”

Smiling, she yanks on my arm. “Yes, now come on.”

I shove the memory out of my head the best I can and reluctantly allow her to lead me across the street, because I’d go anywhere with her, even if I don’t want to.

Ella

We have to wait in line to get on the elevators, but it takes us up to the top fast and gives me a little bit of a head rush. When the doors open, we step out and my stomach rolls with my nerves. Tossing my empty coffee cup into the trashcan, I head for the lookout area, which is blocked off by bars.

Micha tags along with me, even though he doesn’t want to be up here. It makes him edgy, so I entwine my fingers with his as I peer through the bars and down at the lively city below. It’s getting dark and colorful lights sparkle for miles. That’s when it crashes into me, like the wind has been knocked out of me, the same helplessness I felt on the plane.

Micha senses my uneasiness and his arms enclose around my waist. “Take a slow breath and just relax and enjoy the scenery.” He smothers my neck with kisses until I settle back down.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper. “Like really amazing.”

He sucks on the sensitive spot below my ear, before moving his mouth away. “It is, isn’t it.”

Shivering from the cold and his touch, I lean back against him and he rests his chin on top of my head. “And it’s real.”

Not many people would get what I mean, but he does and his arms constrict around me. People wander around us, but I remain still, discovering what it feels like to have a peaceful moment where my thoughts aren’t bunched up in my head.

Somewhere along the line, I begin to cry, but do it noiselessly, hoping he won’t notice.

His fingers seek my cheeks and wipe away the tears. “Why are you crying, pretty girl?”

“It’s nothing… It’s just that this is so normal,” I admit, dabbing the tears with my fingertips. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m being such a baby.”

He kisses my head and guides me closer. “You’re not being a baby. You’re being real.”

Feeling some of the burden fall off my chest, I pull his arms around me even more, never wanting him to let me go.

He gives me a piggyback ride back to the hotel because my feet hurt from all the walking we did. I can’t stop laughing the entire time, because people keep looking at us strangely, although some are envious.

When we enter the lobby of the hotel, the bellman, who is wearing a funny hat and a buttoned uniform, approaches us with a stern look on his narrow face. “No roughhousing in the lobby.”

Micha’s boots scuff against the white marble flooring. “Absolutely. We’ll save that for the bedroom,” he replies as he backs into the elevator with me on his back.

The bellman scowls as the doors glide shut with Micha giving him a little wave. I move to climb off his back, but he links his arms underneath my legs as he punches in the button to our floor and the elevator jerks upward.

When it reaches our floor, he holds me in place as he walks through the doors and down the long hallway to our room.