The Troublemaker

“Jesus.” He’s on my heels as I open the door and walk to the elevator. “What the hell did I say wrong now?”

“Nothing.” I punch the button and cross my arms, looking straight ahead at our reflection in the steel. He’s so much taller than I am. If I turn sideways to punch him right now it would land on his chest. I let out a breath and step inside once the doors open. Once inside, I push the lobby button and cross my arms again.

“Misty.” He sighs.

“It’s fine. Just drop it.”

He does. We walk to the other side of the street and start to jog in silence. Amazingly, I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out at any moment and complete the jog with him.

“You sure you don’t want to do another round?” he asks, cool as a cucumber when we get back to our starting point.

“Positive.”

“I think you can do it if you push.”

“I have no interest.”

“We keep doing half a mile.” He chuckles. “You can totally do the whole thing now.”

“Nope.” I start walking toward the entrance of the park. “Knock yourself out though.”

He doesn’t say anything, but I hear him jogging over to me once I get far enough.

“You’re impossible, you know?” he says when he reaches me.

“I’ve heard that once or twice.”

“Do you want to grab breakfast?”

“No, thank you.” I keep my voice casual, nice, grateful.

“Not even for your article?”

I let out a long breath. The damn article that I can’t seem to write? The one I need to get done in order to graduate? The one his mother wants to publish in her magazine (if it’s good)? I groan.

“You did start the article, right?” he asks as we’re crossing the street.

“Yep.” I have two sentences written, so that’s a start.

“When is it due?”

“A week.”

“One week?” he asks. “When can I read it?”

“When it’s published.” If it’s published.

“Are you dedicating it to anyone?”

“Huh?” I frown, glancing at my watch momentarily as a message from my sister comes in. I ignore it and look at Mitchell. “What are you talking about?”

“The article. You know you can dedicate it to someone.”

“Why in the world? It’s not a book.”

“It’s still a body of work. You can dedicate your thesis to someone.” He shrugs a shoulder and opens the door to the lobby for me. “Why not this?”

“I just don’t see the point. Why are you asking, you want me to dedicate it to you?”

“No.” He chuckles. “I was just curious.”

My watch buzzes again as we get to the elevator. This time, when my sister asks if I want breakfast, I push the little button and voice back, “I work. You can come by the coffee shop though.”

“So that’s why you turned me down.” Mitch shoots me an amused look as we get out of the elevator.

“I turned you down because I have no interest in going on a breakfast date with you.”

“Dinner then.”

I sigh. “I don’t see the point, Mitch.” I turn the key and open the door.

“I know you still have feelings for me.”

“What?” I swallow, turning around to face him.

“Do you?” He searches my eyes.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“The truth.”

“I don’t know why it matters.”

“It just does.”

“Even if I have feelings for you, it wouldn’t change anything. I still wouldn’t be tripping all over myself to be with you.”

“Because I hurt you.”

“Yeah. You know what they say about insanity.”

“We were seventeen, Misty.” He leans against the doorframe, peering down at me through those dark lashes of his. He reaches out and caresses the side of my arm, sending a shiver down my body. “Don’t let fear get in the way of your dreams.”

“My dreams?” I laugh. “I don’t know what inspirational posters you’ve been reading, but I’m pretty sure this is your dream, not mine.”

“What if it is?” He smiles and God, it does something to me.

“Pick me up tonight at seven. I have to be up early, so no later than that.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He beams as he stands up straight and salutes me, like I’m a superior he’s following orders from.

“Goodbye, Mitchell.” I step inside fully and shut the door between us, heart pounding.

As I shower and dress for work, I remind myself that I need to keep this casual, the way I do with everyone else. Just because he gives me goosebumps or butterflies doesn’t mean he’s it for me. Whatever I feel for him is a memory of what I felt before, but I can’t get my hopes up. He’s leaving soon and I have no idea where he’ll end up but I know it wouldn’t work out between us once he’s gone.

Chapter Thirty

I’m helping Archer put away a shipment of food and drinks when my sister and Jagger walk in the door. When I look up again, I see Mitchell walk in, head down as he types furiously into his phone.