Desperate Chances
Page 76

“We won’t Neal. Thanks again for everything. You’ve been a great manager,” Jordan told him.
“I hope one day to represent you all again. And Cole, we’ll talk next week. I think we can make something great happen for you.”
Cole grinned and I was happy for him. There wasn’t any bitterness. Things were turning out the way they were supposed to.
We hung up with Neal and I sat back on the couch, folding my hands behind my head.
“So that’s it,” I said.
“Yep. That’s it,” Jordan agreed.
Garrett pulled out his guitar. He held it in his lap for a while then started strumming a few chords. We all listened to him for a few minutes before Jordan grabbed a pair of drumsticks he had left on the coffee table and started to tap out a beat on his thigh.
I grinned and grabbed my bass, giving it a quick tune before joining in. Cole, not about to be left out, hummed the familiar melody of our most popular song to date.
“ Your touch is toxic. Your heart’s a mess. Which is why you’ll always be my perfect regret…”
We jammed together for hours, going through our entire catalog of songs and even riffing on a possible new one. The music flowed effortlessly. There was no pressure. No stress. We were just four guys hanging out, doing what we loved.
How it was in the beginning.
I didn’t head up to my room until almost midnight. Cole and Jordan had left hours before, but Garrett and I had stayed up playing video games.
So it was only after I had taken off my shirt and threw on a pair of shorts that I saw the note that had been left on my dresser. It had been propped up against the wooden box and the hair ties that I had kept all these years.
I opened it and stared down at her familiar handwriting, knowing exactly what this was.
It was a chance.
One that I wasn’t going to pass up. Not this time.
Chunky Monkey.
-Gracie-
She needed me.
Fuck, she wanted me.
This wasn’t about doubt or guilt or shame. This wasn’t about a one-night stand or messing up what had already disappeared.
This was about Mitch and Gracie.
Gracie and Mitch.
I had to go to her.
Now.
I wasn’t going to wait another second. I had wasted enough of those.
I grabbed my keys and all but ran to my Jeep, almost falling on my ass on a patch of ice. It was snowing heavily but I didn’t care. My Jeep was four-wheeled drive.
And it would take more than snow to keep me from Gracie Cook tonight.
I woke up to a loud banging at my front door.
“What the—?”
I sat up suddenly, the bowl of popcorn falling on the floor. “Shit,” I hissed, reaching down and sweeping up kernels.
I looked around the dark living room a little confused. I must have fallen asleep on the couch watching the Fresh Prince. Some sort of infomercial for wrinkled cream was playing on the TV. I turned it off and stood up, stretching.
What time was it?
I picked up my phone and saw that it was almost one in the morning.
The apartment was eerily silent and I remembered that Cole and Vivian were staying the night at their new apartment.
It was nice. The whole lack of sex noises thing. Maybe living on my own wasn’t going to be so bad.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Okay, so I hadn’t imagined that. I turned on a lamp and walked to the door, tripping over my sneakers that I had kicked off earlier.
“Stupid shoes,” I grumbled, picking them up and tossing them behind the couch.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Christ! Who was trying to beat down my door so late at night? Whoever it was, wasn’t very patient. And that annoyed me. A lot.
“Hold your horses, jeesh,” I muttered. I glanced out the window and could see that the world was completely white. Streetlights glinted off the snow and it was really pretty.
Who in the hell would be out in this weather? A complete moron most likely.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
“If you pound on that door one more time I’m going to shove something uncomfortable up unmentionable places,” I said loudly. I quickly grabbed a mint and popped it in my mouth. Even when woken from a very deep sleep, a girl had to think about her oral hygiene.
I pulled open the door and froze, my scowl melting into an expression of total shock.
“Mitch?”
He was standing in the hallway with melting snow in his hair, his cheeks red from the cold.
“Hey, Gracie. Please don’t shove something uncomfortable in a place that’s unmentionable,” he chuckled, his hand braced against the doorframe.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” I stepped out into the hallway, not sure if I should let him in or not. He was looking a little on the frantic side and that made me nervous. What in the world?
“Did you drive? The roads look awful!” I scolded. “There’s this handy invention known as a telephone, you know.” I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes.
Mitch’s eyes heated and I had to take a step back. I was still waking up and I wondered, on some level, if I was still sleeping. Because he looked at me like he wanted to devour me. Eat me whole. He was a wet dream come to life.
“What I have to say can’t be said over the phone,” he rasped, his voice low and rough.
Nope, this was real all right. The cold blast of air drifting down the hallway was making my nipples hard and the hair stand up on my arms.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did something happen?” I fired each question in rapid succession. I was worried now. Why else would this man be standing outside my door in the middle of the night during a snowstorm?