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Trusted
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Chapter 18: Trusted (Michael's POV)
"Then kiss me," she demanded.
I watched her and shook my head softly, "You're delusional right now."
"Michael!" she whined.
"Amelia," I said slowly, guiding her to the bed. I sat her down and kneeled on the floor taking her heels off and pushing her to lie down, sitting by her legs. "Listen to me," I said softly.
She closed her eyes, groaning and pushing her legs into my lap. Amelia hasn't gotten drunk near me since we were in college. Even when she drinks, she never drinks past her limit, never lets herself get more than tipsy to the point where she's still in her right mind, still completely conscious. Tonight, there's none of that. She is wasted.
"You're drunk. Extremely drunk," I explained slowly. "I can't kiss you when you're drunk."
"Why?" She shot up suddenly, scooting forward and closer to me. "Why?" She pouted.
I grabbed her shoulders and gave her a push, causing her to fall onto her back.
She stared at me.
"Because you're drunk. You're drunk around me. Do you know what that means?"
She shook her head.
"That means you trusted me enough to take care of you when you couldn't take care of yourself. That means you trusted me to keep you safe. Even from myself. If you're drunk and I'm the one taking care of you, that means I won't let you do something stupid, something you might regret when you're sober again. And kissing me is exactly that sort of thing."
She stayed quiet, holding my gaze, and then said, "My feet hurt."
I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment, keeping my composure. "Your feet hurt?" I asked softly.
She hummed, nodding.
"Okay," I replied, grabbing her right foot and beginning to knead it. I started at her Achilles tendon, then moved to her heel. She let out a soft sigh and closed her eyes. I shook my head to myself and kept massaging her foot, moving my hands up to her calves, stopping at her knee, and then moving to the other foot. I thought she had fallen asleep by the time I was done, which was why I stood up to leave, but she sat up and grabbed my arm, whining like a child and pulling me back down.
"Where are you going?" she demanded.
"Nowhere," I lied, "just to turn the lights off."
She stared at me for a while, blinking slowly. "You won't leave me again, right?" she whispered.
My breath got stuck, words caught in my throat. "Hmm?" I asked, swallowing.
"Will you leave me again? For hockey or..." she trailed off with a huff. "Whatever." She pulled her legs off of my lap and shakily stood up.
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