His voice had changed—firmer now, slightly irritated.
“Mitch.” His tone dropped, low and demanding. “Be honest.”
I should have lied. It would have been easier.
But something about the way he was looking at me—too perceptive, too knowing, too much like he still understood me–made it impossible.
I shrugged, forcing nonchalance, but it didn’t quite land. “I have to work in less than an hour.”
His entire face shifted—jaw tightening, lips tugging downward into something that was half-annoyance, half-genuine concern.
He let out a low groan, dragging a hand down his face before twisting his mouth into an unhappy smile. “Damn, Michelle,” he muttered. “You should’ve said.”
I opened my mouth, ready to argue, but he cut me off.
“Do you need a ride?” he asked, already reaching for his phone. “I can order you a car. No way you’re sprinting across the city just to make it.”
“No,” I said, too fast, too breathless.
I saw the way his nostrils flared at my knee-jerk refusal, the way his fingers tightened around his phone, but I ignored it.
“I’ll be okay,” I said, softer this time, because some stupid part of me hated how frustrated he looked.
I stood, shouldering my bag, feeling the weight of everything settle in.
“The hell you will,” he muttered, shaking his head as he exhaled. But he didn’t push it. Instead, he looked at me, really looked at me, and something in his expression shifted.
Something serious.
Something unspoken.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice lower, rougher, the two words holding more meaning than they should have.
His gaze was too intense, too piercing, too damn much, and my stomach tightened at the way it sent a shiver down my spine.
I felt warm. Too warm. I didn’t trust myself to say anything, so I ducked my head, turning to leave, trying to shake off the weight of his voice, his stare, the unspoken tension that still clung to the air between us.
But then his mom’s soft voice floated through the air, carrying with it a single question that felt like a gut punch.
“Wasn’t Michelle the name of that woman who broke your heart?”
I stopped mid-step.
My breath caught, my pulse slamming against my ribs so hard it hurt. Brooks froze beside her, his body going rigid.
Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.
I felt him turn, knew without looking that his eyes were on me now.
Knew that if I looked back, I’d see something I wasn’t ready to face.
The air crackled with something undeniable, something that had never truly left us, and I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the strap of my bag. But I didn’t turn around. I kept walking, burying all these feelings deep down where I’d never unpack them. I couldn’t afford to.
6
Brooks
ThinkingMichelle and I had incredible chemistry was one thing, but to find out I actually liked her made it all the worse. My plan to get her to admit that what we had was incredible wasn’t working—it was just bringing back old feelings I tried to bury after how things ended.
