The Troublemaker

“Were you?”

“No.” He laughs again. “She’s like a sister to me.”

“So was Rocky and here we are.”

“Shut up.” He groans. “I’m trying to help you out here. She doesn’t want to date an athlete.”

“We’ll see. Count me in for the trip.”

“Okay.” Mav’s voice is full of amusement.

I hang up and toss my phone in the passenger seat, shutting my eyes as I lay my head against the headrest. When I let Misty go the first time, I did it because it was the right thing to do, but I always assumed we’d get back together with her when my life was sorted out, when it wasn’t so chaotic. I hadn’t planned for her to be so opposed to the idea of dating an athlete. Or me.

Chapter Ten

Misty

I expected loud music in their apartment, but it’s pretty quiet as I walk into mine. When I shut the door and walk to the living room, I hear music though, and realize I’ll probably hear it all night. It’s fine. I can deal with that. Mitch’s invitation was a surprise, but after considering it I reached the conclusion that it wasn’t a good idea. A part of me wants to go and call it research, but I know him. He’ll start flirting with me and then I’ll get upset and wish I’d never gone at all. My muscles are aching from today’s workout and the only thing I want to do right now is shower, put on my lounging clothes, have a glass of wine, and relax, so that’s what I set out to do.

I’m scrolling social media and on my third glass of wine when the doorbell rings. With a sigh, I set my phone down and walk over, taking the money I set on the counter with me so that I can tip the delivery boy. I hadn’t intended to order pizza tonight, but after my first glass of wine it seemed like a good idea and now I’m definitely glad I did. I open the door and blink at Mitchell, who’s standing on the other side, with his left forearm pressed against the doorframe, showing off his toned arm in that short-sleeved polo shirt he’s wearing. My pulse quickens at the gorgeous view. I shoo it away.

“I thought you were having a party?”

“Why aren’t you there?”

“I never said I was going.” I shrug a shoulder. “Besides, I’m busy.”

“Busy doing what exactly?” His eyes search my face. “Are you having a spa night?”

“What?” I feel myself frown and realize I’m wearing stickers under my eyes. I reach up and pull them off quickly. “I’m just chillin’ and waiting for a pizza.”

“We have pizza.”

“Good for you. So will I in about five minutes.”

“We have drinks.”

“I have wine.”

“Wine?” He frowns. “What are you, thirty?”

I roll my eyes. “What are you, five?”

“Bring your wine.” He shrugs. “We have music.”

“I have a phone and a speaker.”

“We have company.”

“If everything is so grand over there then why the hell are you here?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Because you’re not there.” He pushes off the doorframe and stands straight, so I have to crane my neck to look into his green eyes. What I find in them makes me take a step back, letting go of the door as he takes a step forward to stop it from shutting.

“What are you doing?” My voice comes out breathless.

“I want you to come up to the party.”

“I don’t want to.” I swallow. “I’m waiting for pizza.”

“Okay.” He nods a few times, glancing away as if trying to figure out what his next move will be. When he looks at me, I can tell he’s solved the riddle playing inside his head. “Can I stay?”

“For pizza?”

“Sure.”

“What about your party?” My heart pounds rapidly as we stare at each other.

“They can wait.” He shrugs a shoulder, his eyes focused on mine in a way that sends my pulse racing.

“Did you order pizza?” a voice asks from the hall and I’ve never been more relieved for an interruption.

“Yes.” I push between the doorframe and Mitchell and practically collide with the pizza box the delivery guy is handing over. I shove money into his hand and grab the box from him. “Thank you.”

Turning back to my apartment, I find Mitch holding the door open for me. I try not to dwell on this. Not on the fact that he’s here, his words, and how they made me feel. Not the way my head is swimming in wine and I need to get food into my system, or else. I walk inside and head to the kitchen, setting the box down and quickly searching for disposable plates. I have ceramic plates, but I forgot to buy dish cleaner and therefore, I’m sticking to disposable for now.

“I’m surprised you even own these.” Mitch waves the disposable plate I set in front of him. “Miss Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.”