Desperate Chances Page 11


He really was beautiful. Inside and out.

“You don’t need to change, Gracie. But you need to learn to take care of yourself. To put yourself first. I can’t lose you. Not ever.” He gripped my hands between his. His face was flushed and his eyes flashed with emotion.

“I’ve hurt so many people,” I agonized, trying to turn my head.

Mitch grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. I wanted to close my eyes, to block him out. But I couldn’t. He made me want to listen. To hear everything he had to say.

“Yes, you have. But you’ve hurt yourself most of all. And that’s not okay. Because you deserve to be happy. I only ever want to see smiles on that beautiful face of yours,” he said softly, cupping the side of my neck and running his thumb along my jaw.

We were close. So close.

Too close.

Too much.

I pulled back suddenly and Mitch’s hand fell away. I moved a few inches, putting distance between us.

“Let’s watch some TV. I need something mindless,” I said, forcing a smile that I didn’t feel.

Mitch didn’t say anything else, but he stayed. He always stayed. He was always there.

“There’s nothing else going on. Stop being such a conspiracy theorist,” I teased.

“Yeah, well I for one will be glad to see you. None of these bitches can play Minecraft like you can. They’re weak, G. Weak I tell you!” Garrett complained and I grinned.

“Well, when you put it like that, how can I resist? I can’t have you dealing with subpar gaming on your own. Though I planned to go to my mom’s for dinner.”

“Did you just say you were going to ditch us for your mom?” Garrett sounded horrified and I found myself laughing so hard there were tears rolling down my cheeks.

Several people gave me strange looks as they passed by me to go into the deli. I must have looked a sight, cackling like a hyena in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Well you know how much I love to hang out with my mom,” I said, wiping my eyes.

“Whatever. That’s up there with the old, I have to wash my hair excuse. But seriously, we all miss you,” he said.

We all miss you.

“All of you?” I found myself asking before I could stop myself.

There was a moment of silence. Just long enough to make me feel stupid.

What was wrong with me? Why had I asked that? Way to make things even more awkward.

“Yeah, G. All of us,” Garrett said finally and my heart hammered in my chest.

Neither of us mentioned him by name. We didn’t need to. The implication was there.

I wondered how much Garrett knew.

“Get ready for an epic takedown, though. Because I’m not taking any prisoners just because you’re a chick,” he warned.

“I’d expect nothing less,” I told Garrett, glad he wasn’t mentioned by name. I may have lost the nerve I had gained to finally face him again after so many months of avoidance.

“Good. I’ll see you on Saturday then.”

“I’ll be there with bells on,” I said.

“Bells really aren’t necessary. Just your badass self,” Garrett chuckled.

“I only know how to bring the badass. No worries there,” I replied.

“Later, G,” Garrett said.

“Later, G,” I repeated, hanging up.

“I’m so wet. My panties are drenched, baby. It’s dripping down my thighs. I’m imagining your tongue between my legs and I’m gripping your hair, holding you there. My legs are over your shoulders, my head is thrown back and I’m touching myself—”

“Shit, Viv! Can you take that conversation into your room!” I shouted, throwing a piece of junk mail at my roommate. I had just come into the apartment to find my roommate sprawled out on the couch, her hand down her pants, her back arched up off the cushions.

Vivian pulled her hand from her underwear and scowled at me, as if I were the one in the wrong. Because it was totally acceptable to finger yourself in full view of whoever happened to walk in the front door.

“Hold on a sec, Cole.” She glared at me. “You’re not supposed to be home for another hour,” she accused.

“Well pardon me for coming back before I was supposed to,” I muttered, dropping my purse onto the coffee table. Vivian sat up and re-covered her boobs, which had been on prominent display. I picked up a note from Maysie. Apparently she had gone to Barton’s for dinner and asked me to meet her there. I had a feeling she felt it best to make herself scarce once Viv got on the phone with Cole.

“Don’t get that judgy tone with me. I’ve had to listen to plenty of your antics through our very thin bedroom walls,” Vivian remarked testily.

I wanted to tell Vivian that her point was completely moot given that there had been zero antics in my bed for quite a while. But I could tell she was getting itchy to resume her…uh…activities.

“We’ve talked about having phone sex in the communal space, Vivian. Don’t act like this is something new. I don’t like walking in from a long day to find you masturbating on the throw pillows,” I snapped.

I was in a bad mood. A really bad mood. I had planned to go out to a big country estate out of town that my editor wanted me to cover for my monthly column on unusual gardens. I was supposed to interview the homeowner, take a few snaps and be done with it. It wasn’t supposed to be an all day event.

But I ended up with a flat tire. Then I realized that I no longer had AAA. Then my phone died. So I had to hike five miles to the closest gas station so I could call my dad to change my tire.

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