Page 117 of Reluctantly You

“I know, right? Pretty soon, I’ll have two.”

I let out a small laugh, and Mitchell glowers at me. “We all have to start somewhere, Gideon.”

He’s damn right. Now if he’d only practice what he preaches.

Chapter Twenty

Mitch

The world is a hue of hazy grays and blues, uncertainty flooding my system. Nerves are flashes of black and white and I’m blinking in and out of cold sweats and hot flashes.

The only thing I can do is drink the nerves away.

It doesn’t help. Just makes me more afraid.

What if this is it? What if there’s no coming back from what I’m about to say? What if I lose them too?

I gulp down another beer and stagger to the kitchen, my nerves more than the alcohol making me unsteady. Gideon is on his way over. I’d caved an hour before I left work, panicking that I hadn’t planned dinner, that I had nothing to offer them.

Maybe food would keep them around.

Maybe they’d stay for that at least.

“I’ll take care of it. Just go home and relax,” he’d told me, his hand cupping my neck.

I nodded, swallowing roughly, and drove myself home.

I was planning on relaxing, on taking it easy. But I’ve worked myself into a state.

Fuck, I’m unwell.

“You’re going to be fine,” Gideon says when he opens my front door and takes a look at me. Little Pants squirms in my arms to get to him. “How much have you had to drink?”

“A few hundred bottles of beer.”

He shakes his head and sets the food down on the counter.

“But it’s mostly nerves.”

“Hm, well drink some water and I’ll take care of the rest. They’ll be here soon.”

My eyes swivel down his strong body, and I feel myself growing warm. Not from anxiety, but from him. He makes me fucking sweat.

I lean toward him and press my hands against his chest, wanting to shove him away, out of my life, to save him from this mess, but I only end up bringing him closer to me. So fucking close.

“You gonna kiss me, Mitchell?” he asks, and I grunt, pressing my forehead to his.

“Yeah. Fuck off.”

“Mm,” he hums and then his lips graze against mine, a tease, a promise. He pulls away far too quickly and shoves a water bottle in my hand. “Drink. This. Now.”

I do as he says, Little Pants no longer in my arms but on his shoulder, meowing loudly at him as he talks back to her.

I don’t even know what he’s saying, but it’s making my heart stutter and clench.

Damn him.

I move toward the couch, swigging the water as quickly as I can and end up getting brain freeze. Fucking fuck.

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