“Is that why you won’t look at me when I’m in the room?” I asked.
Mitch huffed under his breath. “I didn’t think you’d even notice. Considering how little my opinion has ever mattered to you.”
I startled at his admission. “Is that what you think? That what you think, what you feel, doesn’t matter to me?” I took a tentative step towards him. I couldn’t help it. We were standing close together, but I felt compelled to be closer. Mitch watched me warily.
“I think you made that abundantly clear, Gracie.”
My heart hurt at his words. I hated that he believed that. “That’s not true, Mitch. Not at all,” I murmured. Something ignited between us. His eyes dropped to my mouth and he licked his lips. I buzzed inside.
He wanted to touch me. I could see it in his eyes. They burned with a fire that he couldn’t put out. No matter how hard he tried. I had never felt more power. Or more sexy.
Mitch made me feel alive.
He made me feel wanted.
But more importantly he made me feel as though this could be a beginning.
I took another step forward and I lifted my hand as if to touch him. If he wouldn’t bridge the gap then I would. I’d take the first step.
Almost there…
Mitch shook his head, stopping me. “Don’t, Gracie. Just don’t.” His voice was hard and unyielding. I dropped my hand and stepped back.
“I just wanted—”
“I know what you want,” he remarked angrily, dragging his hand through his hair. He was upset. I had upset him. Again.
“I just don’t want us to be enemies anymore. I don’t want you to hate me.” My voice cracked and I felt like a total jerk.
Mitch closed his eyes, his brow furrowed. He ran his hand down his face and let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t hate you, Gracie. That’s the fucking problem.”
Oh.
“Mitch—” I started to say, but he interrupted me with a short bark of laughter.
“You think you can stand here, looking like every dream I’ve ever had, giving me the words I’ve wanted to hear and I’ll just what? Go back to being your best buddy? That we can go back to late night phone calls and braiding each other’s hair?”
“I know we can’t go back, Mitch. I’m not expecting that!” I protested, my voice rising.
“Good!” he shouted and several people turned to look at us. I didn’t care that we were starting to make a scene.
“Stop treating me like I killed your fucking cat!” I yelled back.
It was Mitch’s turn to take a step towards me. I remained rooted to the spot. Mitch stood so close I had to crane my neck to look up at him. He was furious. Well he wasn’t the only one.
“No, you just fucking broke my heart, Gracie!” he growled, leaning down so that we were almost nose-to-nose. “You broke me!”
I snorted, “You don’t look very broken. It seems you’ve had lots of help being put back together,” I derided.
I was getting angry. Dangerously angry. The thing was Mitch and I had never really fought. But that was before that night.
I didn’t quite know how to do this with him. The getting angry and bitter thing. But I did know that he was being a dick and unnecessarily cruel and I was so done with taking that.
Mitch’s eyes flashed and even when enraged he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Damn him.
“Okay, so let me get this straight. You’re pissed that I found someone who actually wants to be with me? Are you serious? I mean, I know you can be selfish and completely clueless—”
“Excuse me?” I seethed.