Page 108 of Checking It Twice
“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “But I know I don’t want it to stop.”
“Even when you’re traveling eight months out of the year?”
“Even then.” His hands frame my face, thumbs tracing my cheekbones. “I want you to be mine. I want to come home to you, take you to team events, have you wear my jersey and mean it.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. Because he’s offering everything I didn’t know I wanted—belonging, partnership, being claimed by someone who sees me as worth keeping.
“That’s a lot,” I whisper.
“Too much?”
I think about going back to my sterile apartment, eating lunch alone, pretending the past three days never happened. The thought makes my chest ache.
“No,” I say, surprising myself with how certain I sound. “Not too much.”
His smile is blinding, transformative. “Yeah?”
“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Mitchy?” My mouth lifts with a smile.
“Not just asking, sweetheart. Practically begging.”
He kisses me then, sweet and slow, and when we break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“I have to go to work,” I say, but I don’t move away.
“I know.” His thumb traces my bottom lip. “Dinner tonight? Somewhere fancy where I can show off my incredibly beautiful, brilliant girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend,” I repeat, testing the word. It feels right, solid in a way that makes my chest warm. “That sounds perfect, actually.”
I kiss him again, and when I finally pull back, his eyes are dark with want and something deeper.
“Go,” I say, because if I don’t leave now, I’m going to be late for the third time this week. “Before I decide to call in sick and spend the day proving exactly how okay I am with being your girlfriend.”
His laugh is rough, strained. “Don’t tempt me.”
But he releases me, and I grab my bag—the one with his lunch inside—and head for the door. At the threshold, I turn back to find him watching me with that expression I’m learning to recognize. The one that says I’m something worth keeping.
“See you tonight?” I ask.
“Can hardly wait.”
And as I walk to my car, lunch bag in hand, I realize I’m grinning like an idiot. Because Mitchell Drake is my boyfriend, and he packs my lunch, and tomorrow he’s going to California but he’s coming back to me.
Three days ago, this would have terrified me. Now it feels like I hit the lottery.
I’m halfway to the office when my phone rings through the Bluetooth. Bryn’s name flashes on the dashboard, and I already know this isn’t going to be pretty.
“There she is,” comes her voice, dripping with theatrical concern. “The missing person herself.”
“I’m not missing. I’ve been texting you.”
“Oh sure, two-word responses at midnight don’t count as communication, Clare. Where the hell have you been?”
I merge into traffic, buying time. “I’ve been... around.”
“Around where? I drove by your apartment last night and your car wasn’t there.Again. That’s three nights in a row, by the way. I’m starting to think you’ve been kidnapped. I almost filed a police report.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “Mitchell asked me out.”
