When Mitch arrived with the food I was significantly more relaxed, wearing my comfiest sweats and with my hair piled on my head in the messiest bun known to man. I was ready to eat takeout and do absolutely nothing else with my evening. When he came inside he had the takeout bag in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other. He made a show of moving some of my ciders out of the way to make room for his beer in my fridge.
“Finally.” He handed me a cider and took one of his beers out before closing the door. “Something decent to drink around here.”
I shrugged and cracked open my cider, handing him the bottle opener. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Apple juice, that’s what I’m missing. And believe me, I’m not missing a thing.”
“Your loss.” I took a swig and started unpacking the food. “God, this smells so good.” I opened my container of noodles and my stomach rumbled in response to the scent of the savory brown sauce, obviously agreeing.
We sat together at one end of the dining room table and at first there wasn’t a lot of talking as we both inhaled an obscene amount of noodles. I was starving, since I’d been working most of the day without a break. Mitch had done the same, plus he’d come here straight from rehearsal.
“How is rehearsal going?” I asked. “Did you and Simon end up changing that fight thing you were talking about?”
Mitch lit up, as though he was pleasantly surprised that I remembered. “Oh, yeah! We did. Decided to let a couple of the younger kids throw each other around for a change.”
I laughed, digging in my carton for another bite of noodles and a stray piece of broccoli. “Smart. And it’s going okay? You said the kids are hopeless.”
“Oh, they are,” he said cheerfully. “But it’s a good kind of hopeless. They’ll get it. We’ve still got a few more weeks to practice before Faire starts.”
That reminded me . . . “Is it too late to volunteer for this whole Ren Faire thing?”
Mitch had just taken a bite of his super-spicy pad Thai and he froze, his eyes going wide and his jaw stopping mid-chew. “Are you serious?” The words were muffled by the mouthful of noodles, and he coughed and took a swig of his beer. “I didn’t think volunteering was your thing.”
“It’s not. But . . .” I wasn’t sure how to express it, but Caitlin’s words had stayed with me. Maybe it was too little, too late to get more involved in my daughter’s life, but I had to try.
“No, this is great.” He put down his chopsticks and rubbed his hands together like a gleeful mad scientist. “Let’s call Simon. Do you sing? I bet we can get you in a corset by next weekend, and—”
“Wait. What? No.” I held up a hand. “I didn’t mean like that.” God, no. The thought of being in costume? Playing a character? Spending the day speaking in a questionable accent? I fought against a shudder. “I mean like your mother said she did. Taking tickets or something.”
“Oh.” He deflated slightly but rallied quick. “Okay, that’s less fun, but sure. I think Chris coordinates all that stuff. You know Chris, Emily’s boss at the bookstore?” He didn’t wait for my nod before continuing. “She’s back from Florida for the summer now, so you should drop by the bookstore and talk to her about it.”
“Hmmm.” I crunched into a spring roll. “Yeah, I’ll do that.” The thought of working a ticket booth shouldn’t make me nervous, but it did. Everything made me nervous. Frankly, I was getting tired of being nervous all the damn time.
The best thing about takeout was that there were hardly any dishes to do, so after I washed the chopsticks and recycled the containers, the kitchen was just as clean as it had been this morning. I folded the kitchen towel and hung it up while Mitch leaned in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room.
“I was gonna ask if you wanted to go out to Jackson’s tonight, but . . .” He gestured to my hair and my outfit, neither of which telegraphed a going-out vibe.
I shook my head with a smile, ignoring the little flutter that flared up in my chest. “No, thanks. You’ll have to pick up girls all on your own tonight.”
He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “You know that’s not the only reason I go to Jackson’s, right?”
“Sure, but I bet it’s top five.” I echoed his stance, leaning one hip against the kitchen counter.
He opened his mouth to object, but instead he just laughed. “Okay, maybe. Only when I have to go alone, though.” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully, and the flutter in my chest grew uncomfortable. I didn’t want to think of him picking up someone else. But I didn’t want to go out with him either. Sure, we’d hung out there together before. But the energy between us felt different now. What if someone saw us standing a little too close to each other? What if someone said something?
So I made a disgusted noise in the back of my throat and started herding Mitch toward the front door. “You’re on your own tonight, I’m afraid. I have very important plans with my bed.” Whoops. That came out wrong.
“Now, wait a second.” He turned to me when we got to the front door. “Maybe I spoke too soon. Your plans sound a lot more fun. Tell me more.” His voice went all rumbly, and this close, that massive chest of his was right there. I knew what was under that T-shirt and I wanted more. Taking care of myself in the shower earlier hadn’t been enough, apparently. Now my mind was on the drawer in my nightstand, and the box of condoms I’d tucked in there recently. Just in case.
For a long moment silence hung between us, and I was aware of every breath we took, practically in unison, while his bright blue eyes darkened with promise. It was just the two of us here. It would be so easy. So goddamn easy to reach for him. To ask him to stay. I could practically taste his skin, feel the heat of him over me, and every part of me ached for it. Ached for him.
This was a bad idea, I knew that. This was a line that I shouldn’t cross. Not a second time.
But I was too caught in the blue of his eyes and the brilliance of his smile, so instead of pushing him out the door like I should, I nodded back toward the kitchen. “There’s a couple beers left, you know. If you wanted to stick around and . . . finish them.”
His eyes never left mine as he stepped closer, one hand curling around my waist. “You know, I think I’d like that.”
“Good.” I leaned around him to throw the bolt on the front door, which shifted my body so that I was flush against him. He sucked in a breath and his hand slid to the small of my back, pulling me closer.
This didn’t change anything, I told myself as I led him to my bedroom. We were still just friends. Just friends, I reminded myself as his mouth was hot on my skin, as I pulled his T-shirt over his head, as he laid me back on my bed. This was all meaningless, I thought as his fingertips trailed across my skin, cupping my breasts while his tongue licked up inside me.
As I dissolved under his hands and his mouth, as he groaned out my name while pushing inside me, as I dug my nails into his back to pull him closer, harder into me, I took comfort in knowing that wall around my heart was still intact.