He had been there when I had fallen apart after fights and cruel words.

He had seen, firsthand, the unhealthy dynamic that existed between my family and me.

“What did she say?” he asked, sitting down on a stool and inclining his head to the empty one beside him.

I hesitated only a moment before hopping up beside him, propping my chin with my hand. “I tried to tell her about my promotion. She only wanted to talk about how I needed to see a new therapist. One that clearly thinks I’m crazier than my current one does.”

Mitch’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “You’re not crazy, Gracie,” he said severely.

“Tell that to my mother,” I murmured, rubbing my temple.

I felt his hands on my elbow and I looked up at him. I ignited under the intensity of his gaze. “When I met you all those years ago you were the most confident person I had ever met. You were a little nutty, but it was the good kind of nutty.”

I snorted. Was that a compliment? I couldn’t really tell. Mitch went on. “You liked to have a good time and everyone knew it. You owned who you were, with no apologies.”

I ducked my head at his description of the person that I used to be. I wasn’t necessarily proud of that girl. She had been a bit of an idiot. A selfish idiot. Mitch Abrams should know that better than anybody.

He lifted my chin, his fingers firm on my skin. Our eyes met and I couldn’t look away.

“I feel like somewhere along the way, you lost some of that girl and that makes me incredibly sad. Because, Gracie Cook, you’re smart. You’re capable. You’re fucking incredible and you don’t even realize it.” He was breathing heavily, clearly worked up by his admission and my eyes began to burn.

“So are you, Mitch,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mitch’s lips quirked upward into a tiny smile. “I bet you say that to all the guys,” he teased half-heartedly. Then he sobered and became serious again. “Don’t let your mother dictate the opinion you have of yourself. Because if she can’t see all the things that I do, then she’s the crazy one.”

I swallowed thickly and had to look away before I started to cry. He stripped me to the bone so effortlessly.

“Thanks.” I gave him a watery smile without meeting his eyes.

“You’re going to have to find that place where it’s okay to stand up to her. Because you deserve better than that, G. You always have,” he finished, dropping the folded napkin onto the bar and getting to his feet rather abruptly. “I should get going. I only came in because I saw Jordan’s car in the parking lot.”

“Oh. Okay. You can stay you know.” I hesitated before continuing. “It’d be nice if you did.”

Mitch’s face was unreadable if not a little conflicted. He shifted on his feet as though not sure what he should do.

“But if you have things to do, it’s fine—”

“No, I can stay.” One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three… “I’d like to,” he said softly.

“Awesome.” I grinned. It was a real one. I forgot about my mother. About my embarrassingly wet crotch. About all the weirdness that typically lurked between us.

Because he looked at me in a way I hadn’t seen in a long time.

Like I was a girl who mattered.

To him.

“Cole just got here. We’re just waiting on you, buddy,” Jordan said over the phone. I pulled into the gas station and cut the engine.

“I just have to pick up Sophie. I’ll be there in twenty. Tell him to keep his shirt on,” I muttered.

“This is Cole we’re talking about here. His shirt’s already off,” Jordan sighed and I chuckled.

“Tell him if he messes with my saved settings on my game, I’ll kick his ass,” I said.

“Then hurry up. Maysie’s making potato skins. I’m not saving you any if you take much longer.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied. I hung up the phone and got out of my car. A short beep caught my attention.

Gracie waved at me from the other side of the pumps.

Stomach clenching. Check.

Heart thumping. Check.

Get a grip, Mitch!

We both climbed out of our respective cars. I unscrewed the gas cap. I felt like I was going in slow motion. I dropped the cap onto the ground and had to crouch down to get it. When I stood back up, I smacked my head on the side of the car. I was flustered.

“You okay?”

I could feel her standing behind me, but I didn’t want to look at her. It was a bad idea. Looking at Gracie Cook only brought about death, destruction, and uncomfortable hard-ons.

Of course I looked at her. I was a weak, weak man.

“You hit your head pretty hard. Any dizziness? Nausea?” she joked.

“I think I’ll live,” I snorted, patting the lump that had already formed.

She went back to her car on the other side of the pump.

It had been a few days since I had ended up at Barton’s with the entire gang to celebrate Gracie’s new job. I had had no intention of staying, knowing it would be awkward. But after our talk about her mom, Gracie and I seemed to enter into a level of comfort we hadn’t felt in a long time. So I had ended up staying for another hour.

We talked about her job. We laughed with our friends. For a brief time it was simple. Uncomplicated. I had forgotten what that was like.

Then Sophie had called and I had to leave.

And I didn’t want to.

I would have stayed all afternoon, sitting across from Gracie, remembering what it was like to be her friend.

Her friend.

Wasn’t that what got us into this weird place to begin with?

But I realized that I had been a jerk to throw away her friendship because of my pride. I had lost something important in my haste to put distance between me and my broken heart.

I had lost the Gracie that I enjoyed being around.

“We keep bumping into each other, it seems,” she laughed. The wind was strong and her blonde hair blew into her eyes. She made a face and pulled the strands free of her mouth.

“The fun of living in a small town,” I said. I noticed that she was dressed in tailored black slacks and a cream silk blouse that molded to her breasts. The neck dipped into a modest V. It didn’t reveal anything really. Just the slight hint of cleavage. It certainly wasn’t anything most men would have fixated on. But it was Gracie. And I was Mitch. I couldn’t help myself from staring at the smooth skin of her chest.

She lifted her hair and draped it over her shoulder, revealing the long, graceful curve of her neck.

She tasted like strawberries and sweat. My tongue glided up the column of her throat and I wanted to devour her.

All of her.

She moaned deep and low in the back of her throat. I lifted her leg and hitched it over my hip. She was just the right angle to go deep. I slid inside of her again. Even though I had just come, I was already hard for her again. She was wet, so fucking wet. There was no resistance as I thrust into her.

“Mitch,” she whispered, her voice raw, her eyes heavy lidded. I covered her mouth with mine as I buried myself to the hilt inside of her perfect, wet warmth.

She repeated my name over and over as I began to move my hips. She rose up to meet each push. It was a litany. A prayer. We came together.

Together.

Always together.

“Hello. Earth to Mitch,” Gracie called out, wiggling her fingers in front of my face.

Damn. I had a hard-on. This was the problem with looking at her. Blue balls and mortification.

“Sorry, my mind’s somewhere else.” I blinked a few times and tried to think of dead kittens and naked grandmas. Anything to get rid of the straining bulge in my pants.

I finished pumping my gas just as Gracie was grabbing her purse from her car. We walked into the station together. I held the door open and she gave me a pretty smile.