“Rest your head on my shoulder,” I said, running my hand down her back. I loved how the fabric showcased skin, because I wanted to feel hers. She comforted me in a way I didn’t know I needed, and I wanted more of her despite her one night only bullshit. “Come on, Mitch, don’t make me get bossier.”
She shook her head, but then finally rested her head on my shoulder and I tugged her even closer. I didn’t care that we looked like we’d been together for years and not just our first date. Her and I had a history and understanding that very few did and it was fucking special.
We swayed to some sappy Ed Sheeran song, as my fingers traced lazy patterns along her back.
She sighed, a small, barely-there sound, but I heard it and I knew what it meant.
Michelle didn’t use words to say she was comfortable or content or happy. She used moments like this. Little stolen pieces of affection that she only gave away when she felt safe.
I didn’t know what I was doing with her.
I didn’t know how the hell I was supposed to let her go after tonight.
But right now, her body was pressed against mine, and I wasn’t going to waste a second of it.
13
Michelle
I took a slow,careful breath, still feeling the ghost of Brooks' lips on my hand, the warmth of his palm against mine. It was too much. His touch. His words. The way he looked at me like I was something worth keeping. It set off a familiar feeling, one that clawed at the edges of my mind, creeping in like smoke under a door.
I needed space. Now.
“I need to use the restroom,” I said quickly, standing before he could read my face the way he always did.
“For real, or to escape the sexual tension brewing between us?”
I shot him a glare, but my lips twitched. “Yes?”
He chuckled before watching me go with far too much amusement.
My legs carried me faster than necessary, my pulse thrumming too fast, too erratic as I slipped through the crowd. I knew it was irrational—knew I wasn’t in danger, that no one was coming to take something from me—but my body didn’t.
The feeling was always there, hovering in the background. It wasn’t like I had panic attacks. Not really.
It was just… this. Tension. A weight. The constant, gnawing reminder that the people who were supposed to have my back had never stuck around. And if my own family could leave me, why would anyone else stay?
The second I stepped into the bathroom, I exhaled sharply, my body automatically checking exits, scanning corners, locking my knees to keep myself standing. It was empty—thank God. But not a second later, the door flung open and Fiona strutted in.
“You forgot to mention that Brooks Madsen is the guy?” she hissed, grabbing my wrist like she was about to shake answers out of me. “The one who got too close who made you laugh? That guy?”
My heart leapt into my throat, my entire body flinching before my brain caught up.
Fiona. Just Fiona.
She wasn’t hurting me. She wasn’t leaving me or using this information to hurt me. She was just… Fiona.
I let out a breath, forcing my shoulders to relax, even as my pulse struggled to slow. Meanwhile, she was full speed ahead, not even noticing my moment of panic.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Holy shit, you guys have chemistry. I could feel it across the damn room.” She laughed and the sound echoed in the empty bathroom.
I tried to keep up, but my mind was lagging, still shaking off that burst of static panic. She paced across the plush purple rug, gesturing wildly, her dress swishing around her legs.
I sighed, collapsing onto the ridiculous couch in the corner. “Fi, take a goddamn breath.”
She ignored me, eyes gleaming with excitement. “So? Are you together? Not together-together but, like, together? You are. I can see it in your face.”
She gasped, pointing at me like she’d just solved a murder case. “Shit, this is awesome.”
