Page 115 of In Your Wake

We’re easily a few inches away from each other, but he settles his hand against my back, warm and steady, drawing me closer until our bodies brush together. If our clothes weren’t creating a safe barrier between us, I’m sure my skin would ignite.

I let my head rest against his chest and shut my eyes, reminding me of when we went camping and I fell asleep on his shoulder. Only this time it’s entirely on purpose.

I don’t move away. And neither does he.

The music swells softly around us while his heartbeat thuds beneath my cheek. Somewhere between the lights, the music, and Mitch’s solid arms around me, one awful realization settles quietly into place. A realization I’ve been trying to avoid for days now.

There isn’t one ounce of hate left in me for Mitchell Adams.

Not one itty bit.

24

Everyone Loves Billy

Mitch

My fingers have taken it upon themselves to caress Maxine’s lower back, right at the curve of her ass.

“Looks like the crowd’s thinning.”

“Mm,” is all she answers, tucked against me, her fiery red hair tickling my chin.

“I’ll stay and help you clean up.”

“You don’t have to,” she replies, slowly bringing her head away from my chest and meeting my gaze, weary. “Some of the others are sticking around to help.”

“And so will I.”

She narrows those pretty blue eyes at me, then purses her lips. “Okay. We’ll start after the song, though.” She dips her head, resting it on me once again, and the smile that stretches across my face actually makes my cheeks ache.

“I thought you hated Billy Joel.”

“I do. With fiery passion. Now shush.”

She hums the next few lines, her voice a warm vibration resonating against my chest. I listen to the words, and it makes the pounding of my heart speed up.

Need to know that you will always be the same old someone that I knew.

“Total cheese,” she whispers.

“Absolute brie,” I reply. “But still great.”

“The best.”

“Yeah, you hate him all right,” I shoot back with a chuckle.

“You can love and hate something in equal parts. It’s not that hard.” She squeezes my hand. “Trust me, I know.” That darkness returns to her tone, and her body tenses.

The song ends, and she pulls away, but I don’t want to let her go. My left thumb brushes playfully against her hip as my other hand tightens around hers. Maxine’s gaze stays on mine until Mabel taps her shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt you two lovebirds,” the older lady says with a kind smile that creates a twinkle in her gray eyes.

“Not lovebirds,” Maxine quickly corrects. “Is everything all right?”

“I was on my way to bed, but there’s quite a loud noise coming from a room down the hall. I tried to ignore it, but…”

She seems so uncomfortable asking for help. I step forward. “Not a problem. We’ll take care of it,” I offer.