Desperate Chances
Page 16

Maysie regarded me levelly. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.
I gave her a shaky smile. “Of course. Just annoyed that Mom had to ruin my good mood. But it’s nothing a good chick flick can’t fix.”
Maysie gave me a quick hug. “Put it behind you, G,” she murmured.
“Yeah. I will,” I agreed.
Maysie walked to her car and I headed to mine.
I glanced down at the text again.
Do I need to ride to your rescue?
“Yes,” I whispered into the air, not daring to type out the reply.
Mitch had responded.
What did that mean?
His words felt so…normal.
And for the briefest of seconds we were just Mitch and Gracie again.
My chest felt uncomfortably tight and my eyes started to burn.
Do I need to ride to your rescue?
He had rescued me so many times before.
Mitch had always been my white knight.
But I had learned in the last few years that I couldn’t spend my life relying on someone else. That at some point I had to learn to rescue myself. And I was.
When I lost Mitch I had also gained a strength I hadn’t known I possessed. Because I had to be strong if I was going to survive losing the best thing in my life.
And I couldn’t walk down that road again. We had crossed a line we couldn’t come back from. Not ever. No matter how much I wanted to.
Because now there was Sophie.
So I deleted the text.
It was for the best.
All the while my heart tattooed a word against my chest.
Liar.
I could really use some Chunky Monkey right about now.
Her text surprised the fuck out of me.
It’s like she had ESP or something.
I had only just been thinking about her. Not like it was that unusual, but it was worse than normal. Because I tried my damndest not to think about Gracie Cook at all.
There was no sense in focusing on a part of my life that had been way too painful and way too embarrassing.
There was nothing like handing your heart over to someone only to have them throw it on the ground and do a tap dance number on it.
Sure, I still wondered how she was doing. If she was healthy and happy. I wasn’t an asshole. I was a nice guy. Everyone knew that. That was my role in Generation Rejects.
Jordan was the tortured artist, Garrett was the laid back fun guy, and Cole was the asshole sex machine. And me, well I was the nice guy. The one that would comfort the girls after Cole kicked them out of his bed.
I was the friend.
A word that had never sounded so ugly until Gracie had thrown it in my face.
“You’re my friend, Mitch. I just don’t feel that way about you.”
So yeah, I made a point to block she who shall not be named from my mind.
Considering how much I had always loved her, I was bound to fail.
Plus there was Sophie now.
My girlfriend.
A woman who was the complete opposite of Gracie in every single way. She wasn’t complicated or emotional. Sophie didn’t fall apart and need me to rescue her. Sophie was calm and collected. She didn’t get worked up about anything.
Gracie was intense. Sophie was…placid. Which is what I needed after surviving Hurricane Gracie Cook.
And I cared about Sophie.
I really did.
Maybe I didn’t love her. Not yet anyway. But I’m sure I could in time.
It’s already been a year. How much time did I need?
Sometimes my inner voice needed a throat punch.
Because what wasn’t there to love about Sophie?
She was cute and sweet and patient. She had always been the kind of girl you could take home to your parents and not worry that she was going to drink all of the booze in your mom’s liquor cabinet. Sophie wasn’t a partier and I appreciated that about her.
There was no desperation with Sophie.
When I kissed her, it didn’t feel like I was falling off a cliff and had to brace for the impact. I never felt as though if I didn’t have her, I’d die. Nope. That kind of crazy wasn’t good for anyone.
Sophie wasn’t like Gracie and I had convinced myself that was a good thing.
My feelings for Gracie had never been rational. I would have walked barefooted over broken glass if she had asked me to. She wanted me to donate a kidney? Sure. No problem. Anything for Gracie-run-over-my-heart-Cook.
And that wasn’t healthy.
No, with Sophie things were quiet and easy. Like drinking a glass of warm milk.
Shit. Had I just compared my girlfriend to a glass of warm milk?
What I meant was she was comforting and low key. Like a blanket or—
Never mind.
I had known Sophie since we were teenagers.
Sophie made sense.
Gracie…
Well, she was a non-issue.
So why did just the mention of her knock the breath from my lungs and make me feel like dry heaving?
Because I was fucking pussy.
“I spoke to G the other day, she’s coming up with Viv and Maysie for the show on Saturday,” Garrett remarked off-handedly just as we were finishing sound check for this evening’s show.
We were currently touring with Tidal Wave, a lesser known band that was just starting out. It was a far cry from how things were just eight months before. Then we had been at the height of an almost sold out tour with indie rock darlings Cuban Cadillac. Our album was selling and things were going really well.
Then they weren’t anymore.
I didn’t know what had happened. None of us did. All we did know was that after the huge success of our debut album, the sales for our follow up were lukewarm at best.