“I guess I’m going to cancel Pilates for the week,” I say when I feel I can speak again.
“You might as well.”
“My mother won’t be pleased.”
“You can blame me.” He winks. My heart does a little leap before I reel it in and remind it that we’re not here to fall for him.
“She wouldn’t even be upset if I blamed you.” I roll my eyes. My mother loves Mitchell and his brothers.
“Yet another reason you should just stop playing around and give me a chance.”
I lower my hands and start walking a little faster, ignoring his words. This is exactly why I knew from the beginning that this assignment was a bad idea for me to take. Following the baseball team around is one thing. Following Mitchell around is just plain dumb. He’s constantly making jokes like that and flirting with me and I can’t handle it. I’ve become an expert at fielding his advances though, so I cling on to that and continue to ignore him. When we reach the apartment building, he holds the door open for me. We ride the elevator in silence, and when we reach our floor, I walk past his door and stop in front of mine, startled to find he’s still beside me.
“Let’s go grab something to eat.”
“No.” As if on cue, my stomach growls and I remember I don’t have much in my apartment. “Fine, but you need to stop coming onto me.”
“Fine. I’ll see you in a few.” He walks away and I walk into my apartment, shutting the door quickly behind me.
I don’t even give myself a chance to overthink this as I head to the shower to get ready. I’m way too hungry and I have to keep my eye on the prize.
Chapter Twelve
Mitch
My phone rings as Misty and I are getting in the car and even though I completely want to dodge Silvie’s call, my Bluetooth picks it up.
“Oh my God. I’m shocked you answered,” she says upon hearing the call go through. I take a deep breath and let it out as Misty buckles her seat belt beside me.
“I didn’t. My car answered for me.”
Misty’s jaw drops as she glances over at me. I only look at her for a second before I put the car in reverse and start driving.
“I haven’t seen you around in a while.”
“Been busy.”
“With baseball?” she asks. I roll my eyes. Obviously with baseball. What else? I decide not to indulge her with an answer. “I’ve been texting.”
“I know, but I’ve been busy.”
“I sent you a nude and you didn’t even respond.”
“Is that the reason for this call, Silvie?”
“I miss you.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage.”
“Come on, Mitch.” Her voice is quieter now.
“Listen, I have to go. I’m on a date.”
“A date?” Silvie’s voice rises again. “You don’t go on dates.”
“It appears that I do.”
“That is so fucked up. I gave you a year of my life and you—”
“I didn’t ask you to give me a year of your life.”
“You told me you didn’t go on dates or do the relationship thing.”
“I don’t.”
“Yet you’re on a date.”
“Yes, and I’m keeping her waiting. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” I hang up the phone before she says anything else. As it is, divulging she sent me a nude was a bit much, but I don’t sweat it. It’s not like Misty is taking me seriously anyway.
“That was so rude,” Misty says after a moment.
“What was?”
“That entire conversation. It’s obvious that girl is into you and you were so mean to her.”
“I’m not into her.” I shrug a shoulder, glancing over at her. “And she doesn’t seem to take a hint.”
“But you were into her at one point.” She crosses her arms and glances away, out the passenger window. “I don’t know why I’m surprised.”
“About what? Me not being into her or being rude?”
“The rude part.” She shoots me a scathing look. “You want to be with people and once you decide it’s over, your go-to move is to be unapologetically rude. It’s an extremely unattractive trait.”
“Oh, you’re rating my traits now?” I try to sound nonchalant about it, but her words hurt and what’s worse is that she’s not wrong. I am mean when I decide I’m done with someone. My brothers point it out all the time.
“I don’t care enough about you to rate your traits, period.” She shrugs a shoulder.
“Ouch.” I feel myself frown. “Speaking of mean.”
“Yeah, well, I learned from the best.” She meets my eyes again when I park in front of the restaurant. “Also, this isn’t a date.”
“You said we were going to go eat.” I signal toward the restaurant.
“We are, but it’s not a date.”
“Just the two of us going out to eat?” I shoot her a look, raising my brow. “I’m calling it a date.”
“You can call it whatever you want. You can even call it torture, but it’s not a date.” She gets out of the car and shuts the door. I let out a laugh and do the same, pushing the button to lock it as I meet her on the sidewalk.