Desperate Chances
Page 63

Mitch gave me a brusque nod. “That’s fine. Keep it.”
“Thanks again for driving me,” I said, opening the passenger door. I started to get out but then stopped. I turned back around to face Mitch who appeared confused by the fact that I wasn’t closing the door.
“Did you forget some—”
“This is ridiculous!” I nearly shouted, cutting him off.
Mitch’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you yelling at me? I’m the nice guy here, driving you to your interview and bringing you home. So what the hell do you have to be angry about?” he demanded.
“Why do you keep doing this to me? I can’t keep up with your damn mood swings!” I was getting worked up but I couldn’t help it. We had had a nice day. The best day I could remember having with him in a long time. And now he was treating me like a burden. Like a waste of time .
“What are you talking about? I’ve been very clear how I feel—” Mitch shouted back but I interrupted him again.
“Oh you’ve been clear ,all right. We’ll be like old friends who’ve drifted apart. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Then you call me in the middle of the night and tell me you miss me! What am I supposed to do with that, Mitch? Up and down. That’s how you always are! You say you want us to act like old friends. Well, buddy, we were never just friends. Isn’t that what you told me once?”
Mitch’s lips thinned and his jaw tightened. “Don’t throw my words back in my face. I said that shit under very different circumstances!”
“Right. You said it right before we had sex!” Mitch flinched but I didn’t stop. “We had sex, Mitch and I freaked out. I pushed you away. I acted like a selfish, immature asshole and I’m sorry! I wish like hell I could take it back but I can’t. I knew you loved me and I treated you like dirt. I get why you’re angry. Why you’ve put this wall up between us. But don’t you dare tell me that we have to behave like friends who’ve drifted apart but then look at me like you do and hold my hand and tell me you miss me!” Tears sprang to my eyes and I didn’t wipe them away as they started to slide down my cheeks.
“I don’t know what to think, Mitch! I’m just really confused. Because sometimes it feels like it used to be between us. I feel it in here,” I laid my hand over my heart. “But then in the next breath you tell me that you have to go and meet Sophie and I feel like you’re using her as a weapon to punish me!” Mitch closed his eyes and looked like he was about to either cry or scream.
“She’s your girlfriend. You’ve told me that enough times. So why do I feel like that’s not what you want?” I whispered, all the fight draining out of me.
I said what I needed to say. The rest was on him.
Mitch wouldn’t look at me. His chest was heaving as though he were struggling to control himself.
“What do you want, Mitch?” I watched him. Waiting. Unsure. Uneasy.
“What do you want?” I repeated.
Mitch finally opened his eyes and I could see that they were wet. “You. God help me, I just want you,” he breathed and then we were reaching for each other.
His mouth crashed into mine and I was lost.
We existed in between.
In stolen moments and desperate chances. In forgotten looks and missed opportunities.
But right now we were an absolute. There was no questioning how we felt. We would consume each other or die trying.
I had forgotten how intoxicating he was. How it felt to kiss him and know that I was loved more than anything.
He wrapped his arms around me and I dug my fingers into his back. We were close but not close enough. Not for me. Not for him.
His lips slanted over mine, his tongue sweeping inside. Our teeth clanked together in our haste.
For a little while nothing else mattered.
Just Mitch and Gracie.
Gracie and Mitch.
The way it was always supposed to be.
But…
I pulled away, covering my mouth with my hand, horrified at the both of us.
“You have to go meet your girlfriend,” I reminded him, feeling sick.
Mitch’s eyes, hazed with passion and wanting, cleared and he curled his hands—hands that had only moments before been holding me—into fists. “I should go.”
“This just made everything worse, didn’t it?” I asked, choking on my words.
“I don’t know. I’ve got to think, Gracie. I just can’t—” He shook his head. “I’ve got to go.”
“All right,” I murmured, grabbing my things and climbing out of his car.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes sad as he looked at me.
“Me too,” I replied, closing the door.
Mitch didn’t pull away immediately. He waited until I walked into the apartment building before he took off down the road.
And all I could do was go upstairs, lock myself away in my room, and cry for everything that almost was.
I slammed my palm against the steering wheel as hard as I could.
Fucking moron!
What in the hell had I been thinking?
Gracie was right, I was a mess! I was saying one thing and doing another! It was like I had multiple personalities.
My phone buzzed with an incoming text. I glanced at where it lay in the center console and thought about running far, far away.
Are you coming over? You were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago.
Sophie.
Shit.
Fuck.
God damn it!