still ill • michael gray

Chapter 4

"Look at all this," I smile as we sit at a bench on the boardwalk, sharing an ice cream cone.

"I want to go swim in the ocean," he murmurs, as he stares blankly out at the sea.

I take a lick of the ice cream before passing it back to him, "Well you don't want your first ocean swimming experience to be here. Someday I'll sneak you off to my place in the Hamptons where I have a private beach and we can go skinny dipping. Every year my friends and I have an end of summer party up there and we invite a ton of boys and we all go swim in the ocean naked and it drives the neighbors mad, but between all of us we work up enough money to keep them quiet."

"That definitely sounds like the kind of ocean experience I'd like," he smirks before eating some more ice cream and passing it to me.

"I figured you would," he puts his arm on my shoulders and I lean on him. The sun is beginning to set over Staten Island on our right. Tonight for the first time since we met, Michael wears a cap. It doesn't make sense why he's wearing it, because it doesn't match his suit, and it seems like it would be awfully hot to wear in the summer weather. "Why are you suddenly wearing a cap?" I ask.

He smiles and pulls the cap off, "So everyone knows not to mess with my girl," he reveals a blade sewn into the visor.

I nod, "Clever," I take the ice cream from him after only letting him have it for a moment, "but surely a man like you carries a gun."

"Accountants don't carry guns love," he presses a kiss to my forehead and snatches the ice cream back while I'm distracted.

"But you aren't any ordinary accountant," I counter.

"What are you trying to say here?" he laughs, "Do you want me to carry a gun or something?"

I bite my lip, "I think it would make you much more fuckable."

He fakes offense, "And I'm not already?"

I roll my eyes, "I never said you weren't already, I just said you would be more so if you did happen to carry a gun. If I saw you in a shoulder holster, I don't think I would be able to contain myself."

"I'll ask Tommy about it," he breathes.

I finish the once cream cone, "Forget him, he fucking sent you away, if you want to carry a gun, just do it. Stop being his bitch."

He shakes his head, "It isn't that simple."

I rise to my feet and pull him up with me, "Then you'll have to tell me about why it isn't simple later."

"And I will," we begin to walk down the boardwalk, "I told you I'd hold up my end of our deal."

"I know," I lace my fingers with his, "I trust you."

He smiles down on me, "I'm glad, because I don't know what else I would be doing tonight if you hadn't run away to my penthouse."

I blush, "Oh I'm sure you'd have a line of girls waiting to go out with you from here to wherever the hell you said you're from."

"Birmingham," he corrects.

"Yes," I nod, "a line a girls from New York to Birmingham waiting to walk down the boardwalk with you, Michael Gray."

"And yet I chose you," he murmurs.

"God knows why," I laugh, "I've given you far more trouble than you deserve."

"It's all been worth it," he places a kiss on my cheek. We walk at our own pace amongst the crowd. People are constantly passing us by and we saunter along without a care in the world. "Even if things don't work in the long run, I'll remember the good times we've had."