I took my time and when I finally emerged I felt a little better. I didn’t want to spend my weekend mooning over Mitch. I wanted to hang out with my friends. I wanted to dance. I wanted to remember what it was like to not give a shit about anything.

Mitch was leaning against the wall as I left and I hoped I could pass him without being noticed.

He looked up as I moved down the small corridor and I lifted my hand in an awkward wave.

Should I stop? Should I keep going? Should I say hey and leave it at that?

“Is this the place to hang out then?” I asked him, figuring humor could alleviate some of the tension.

Mitch barely looked at me. “I’m waiting for Sophie. She wanted to wash her hands again,” he replied shortly.

“So you’re heading out?” I asked him and he nodded curtly. Why was I bothering? It was obvious he didn’t want to speak to me. And that pissed me off. I was trying to be civil and he wasn’t making it easy.

“Well god forbid you stay and have a good time,” I snipped.

Mitch’s eyes flashed in the darkened hallway and he finally looked at me. “Yeah, because you seem to be having a great time,” he shot back.

I let out an angry sigh and crossed my arms over my chest. “Is this how it’s always going to be?” I demanded, finally at the end of my rope.

Mitch’s face contorted as though he were in pain before it smoothed out into a neutral expression. “Looks like it,” he muttered, looking purposefully past me.

“You don’t think you’ve punished me enough?” I asked, wishing my voice didn’t sound so small. Mitch’s eyes widened slightly, but he still wouldn’t look at me. But damn it, he was going to listen. There were a lot of things I needed to say and I was finally going to say them. I didn’t care if we were standing in a crowded hallway at a shitty nightclub. It was now or never.

“I get that I hurt you. I know I acted like a total bitch.” Mitch snorted but continued to stare over my shoulder. I kept going. “But the silent treatment has gone on long enough, don’t you think?”

Mitch frowned and glanced at me, his eyes narrowed. “I’m not giving you the silent treatment,” he argued.

“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.

“But this is low, even for you, Gracie. Are you going to stand there and have the audacity to give me shit for being with Sophie when you made it clear we were never going to be together?” He raked his hands through his hair and looked ready to pull it out. “You made that choice! Not me! You!” He was looking decidedly unhinged and he wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise. It seemed I wasn’t the only one that had been bottling things up.

“Mitch, just let me speak, damn it!” I shrieked, ready to lose my shit all over him. A crowd of people were milling around, watching us like we were the best thing since Jerry Springer. I should have been embarrassed, but all I could focus on was Mitch and trying to get him to listen. But he wasn’t having it. And we were quickly escalating to a point of no return.

“No! Fucking hell, Gracie! Are you just mad that I didn’t spend the rest of my life alone and miserable because you had rejected me? You lost your little fucking puppy dog and that bothers you, doesn’t it? I’m no longer there to kick around. To play with. And you can’t handle it!”

“You were never my damn puppy dog! Jesus, Mitch! I’m sorry!” My face was wet but I didn’t bother to wipe away the tears that were dripping down my cheeks.

“Me too! I’m fucking sorry I fell in love with you in the first place!” Mitch’s eyes flashed.

We stood, facing off in the middle of the darkened hallway with a group of strangers watching us, crying and pissed and ready to rip each other’s heads off.

But in some weird way I was glad. Because this was the most we had said to each other in over a year.

“Mitch! What’s going on?” Sophie pushed through the crowd to stand between us. I had to back up to make room for her and my anger surged all over again.

Mitch wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand and rubbed at his temples as though he had a headache. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” He gave her a strained smile. “Are you ready to get out of here? I think I’ve had enough of this place.”

He wouldn’t look at me. It was like I had disappeared.

Sophie glanced at me, her face unreadable. How much had she heard? Did I really give a shit?