Текст книги "Desperate Chances "

Автор книги: A. Meredith Walters

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

The conversation was going exactly as we had expected.

Danvers and Tate from Pirate Records had launched into a lengthy explanation about overhead costs versus incomings. Gross profit and other words I didn’t really understand. What I did understand was that they had other artists that were making them money. Generation Rejects, while a great commodity, wasn’t hitting their key markets. Blah, blah, blah.

Neal tried his hardest to push them on elements of our contract but it seemed it was all there in black and white. Pirate had the right to terminate our contract with notice. End of discussion. We didn’t push too hard though. We were all in agreement that the ride was over.

“Guys, do you have any questions?” Tate asked. He sounded distracted and more than ready to conclude the conversation. Not that I blamed him. Dumping bands had to be the sucky part of his job.

“I think the guys understand everything,” Neal piped up. We had spoken to him before the phone call and laid some stuff on the table.

Jordan told him that he had taken a song writing position with a smaller, independent label. He would be mostly working from home, which would be perfect once his kid was born.

Garrett had also used that time to drop the bombshell that he was moving to Boston to be with Riley. None of us were particularly surprised by that one.

Neal hadn’t been thrilled with the news that Generation Rejects were disbanding. “You guys can still go places. With your talent and sex appeal, we can find you the right market. I think you’re selling yourself short here.”

“Neal, we appreciate everything you’ve done. We really do. But at this point, we’ve got to move onto other things. We’ll always be Generation Rejects but we can’t commit to any projects right now,” Garrett told him firmly.

“Uh, well you’re still representing me,” Cole spoke up. We had all looked at him questioningly.

Cole had shrugged. “You guys all have other shit going on. I’m a front man, guys. It’s what I want to do. So I hope you all are cool with me maybe going out on my own.” He seemed nervous and for good reason. Last year we had been fucking pissed when he had left to do that very thing.

Now, it seemed the right thing for him to do.

“That’s cool, dude. You know you have our support,” Jordan said. Garrett and I both nodded in agreement. Cole looked relieved.

“Thanks, guys. I’d been freaking the fuck out about what you were going to say,” he admitted.”

“Cole, of course I’m going to represent your solo career. Let’s talk again about those solo gigs next week,” Neal had broken in. The rest of the conversation had been pretty standard after that.

“I know this has to all come as quite a blow but it’s in no way indicative of your talent,” Tate went on.

Garrett made a jerking off gesture and I tried not to laugh my ass off.

Yeah, we were all done with playing this stupid fucking game.

“No, we don’t have any questions,” I said into the phone. I figured some mild back patting was in order though, so I put on my Chapstick and kissed some ass. We didn’t want to burn any bridges. “But we do just want to say thank you to everyone at Pirate for believing in the band and our music. I’m sorry this couldn’t have been a long-term relationship for all of us.”

“This doesn’t mean that if we see the market change or you come back to us with something new we can’t try again. We’re your biggest fans,” Danvers said.

We all looked at each other. I saw the same thought reflected on everyone’s faces.

Were we doing the right thing?

Could we really walk away from this dream we had shared for so damn long?

How could we possibly say goodbye to the Rejects?

Then the moment passed and we all knew that the time had come to travel a different road.

Even if it took us in opposite directions.

“Thanks, guys,” Jordan said, neither committing nor refuting the idea.

It was always good to leave a door halfway open.

When we hung up the phone, the four of us sat in silence.

“That was sort of painless. I thought it would feel a lot worse,” Cole remarked, looking thoughtful.

“I did too,” I admitted. Because when all was said and done, I felt the same as when I broke up with Sophie.

Relief.

“I mean I do feel shitty about it. We worked our asses off to get a label to notice us. Now it’s over. The whole thing feels a little anticlimactic,” Garrett said.

“I had hoped for at least a little yelling and an f-bomb or two,” I remarked dryly.

“Guys, hey, I’m still here,” Neal’s voice came through the phone, startling us. We had forgotten about him.

“It’s been a real honor working with you the last year. I do think that you’re an amazing band and there’s still a lot out there for you guys. So don’t shelve the band entirely.”

“We won’t Neal. Thanks again for everything. You’ve been a great manager,” Jordan told him.

“I hope one day to represent you all again. And Cole, we’ll talk next week. I think we can make something great happen for you.”

Cole grinned and I was happy for him. There wasn’t any bitterness. Things were turning out the way they were supposed to.

We hung up with Neal and I sat back on the couch, folding my hands behind my head.

“So that’s it,” I said.

“Yep. That’s it,” Jordan agreed.

Garrett pulled out his guitar. He held it in his lap for a while then started strumming a few chords. We all listened to him for a few minutes before Jordan grabbed a pair of drumsticks he had left on the coffee table and started to tap out a beat on his thigh.

I grinned and grabbed my bass, giving it a quick tune before joining in. Cole, not about to be left out, hummed the familiar melody of our most popular song to date.

“Your touch is toxic. Your heart’s a mess. Which is why you’ll always be my perfect regret…”

We jammed together for hours, going through our entire catalog of songs and even riffing on a possible new one. The music flowed effortlessly. There was no pressure. No stress. We were just four guys hanging out, doing what we loved.

How it was in the beginning.

I didn’t head up to my room until almost midnight. Cole and Jordan had left hours before, but Garrett and I had stayed up playing video games.

So it was only after I had taken off my shirt and threw on a pair of shorts that I saw the note that had been left on my dresser. It had been propped up against the wooden box and the hair ties that I had kept all these years.

I opened it and stared down at her familiar handwriting, knowing exactly what this was.

It was a chance.

One that I wasn’t going to pass up. Not this time.

Chunky Monkey.

-Gracie-

She needed me.

Fuck, she wanted me.

This wasn’t about doubt or guilt or shame. This wasn’t about a one-night stand or messing up what had already disappeared.

This was about Mitch and Gracie.

Gracie and Mitch.

I had to go to her.

Now.

I wasn’t going to wait another second. I had wasted enough of those.

I grabbed my keys and all but ran to my Jeep, almost falling on my ass on a patch of ice. It was snowing heavily but I didn’t care. My Jeep was four-wheeled drive.

And it would take more than snow to keep me from Gracie Cook tonight.

I woke up to a loud banging at my front door.

“What the—?”

I sat up suddenly, the bowl of popcorn falling on the floor. “Shit,” I hissed, reaching down and sweeping up kernels.

I looked around the dark living room a little confused. I must have fallen asleep on the couch watching the Fresh Prince. Some sort of infomercial for wrinkled cream was playing on the TV. I turned it off and stood up, stretching.

What time was it?

I picked up my phone and saw that it was almost one in the morning.

The apartment was eerily silent and I remembered that Cole and Vivian were staying the night at their new apartment.

It was nice. The whole lack of sex noises thing. Maybe living on my own wasn’t going to be so bad.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Okay, so I hadn’t imagined that. I turned on a lamp and walked to the door, tripping over my sneakers that I had kicked off earlier.

“Stupid shoes,” I grumbled, picking them up and tossing them behind the couch.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Christ! Who was trying to beat down my door so late at night? Whoever it was, wasn’t very patient. And that annoyed me. A lot.

“Hold your horses, jeesh,” I muttered. I glanced out the window and could see that the world was completely white. Streetlights glinted off the snow and it was really pretty.

Who in the hell would be out in this weather? A complete moron most likely.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“If you pound on that door one more time I’m going to shove something uncomfortable up unmentionable places,” I said loudly. I quickly grabbed a mint and popped it in my mouth. Even when woken from a very deep sleep, a girl had to think about her oral hygiene.

I pulled open the door and froze, my scowl melting into an expression of total shock.

“Mitch?”

He was standing in the hallway with melting snow in his hair, his cheeks red from the cold.

“Hey, Gracie. Please don’t shove something uncomfortable in a place that’s unmentionable,” he chuckled, his hand braced against the doorframe.

“What in the hell are you doing here?” I stepped out into the hallway, not sure if I should let him in or not. He was looking a little on the frantic side and that made me nervous. What in the world?

“Did you drive? The roads look awful!” I scolded. “There’s this handy invention known as a telephone, you know.” I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes.

Mitch’s eyes heated and I had to take a step back. I was still waking up and I wondered, on some level, if I was still sleeping. Because he looked at me like he wanted to devour me. Eat me whole. He was a wet dream come to life.

“What I have to say can’t be said over the phone,” he rasped, his voice low and rough.

Nope, this was real all right. The cold blast of air drifting down the hallway was making my nipples hard and the hair stand up on my arms.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did something happen?” I fired each question in rapid succession. I was worried now. Why else would this man be standing outside my door in the middle of the night during a snowstorm?

Mitch lifted up his hand and I realized he was holding my note.

Oh, right. My note.

I chewed on my bottom lip, not sure what to think. But I felt a fluttering of excitement. Of hope. Damn, my knees were starting to tremble.

“You didn’t need to come over here tonight, Mitch. We could have talked tomorrow. When it’s not dumping down snow,” I chastised with an uneasy laugh.

“Didn’t you want me to come?” he asked, frowning. “I thought you did. You wrote our code.”

“I did use the code. I just was expecting a text or a call. Not a full on invasion,” I joked. Why was I joking? This was serious! Shit!

Mitch’s expression turned almost feral. His eyes swept up and down my body in a way that could only be described as territorial.

“Let me inside,” he commanded.

He commanded. I think I liked his bossy side.

I shivered and it had nothing to do with the cold sweeping into my apartment from the hallway.

“I—uh—I don’t—” I was stuttering. Mitch Abrams had taken away my ability to formulate actual sentences. He had knocked me off balance. What else was new? The bastard.

“I’m coming in, Gracie,” he said firmly and when I didn’t move aside something in his face changed. It cracked slightly and his vulnerability shown through.

“Don’t tell me to leave,” he begged, his lips trembling slightly, his hands shaky as he reached up to cup my face.

“Please, let me come inside. I need—” His words cracked and broke apart. He shook his head. “Just don’t make me go.” He leaned down and rested his forehead against mine.

I couldn’t get my thoughts together. Things were happening so fast that I was having a difficult time wrapping my head around everything.

I had been asleep, curled up on my couch, now I was standing in front of Mitch and he was begging me, no he was pleading with me, not to turn him away.

It would be so easy to drown in this. To lose myself in the intensity of the moment that I had been waiting for.

But there was something we had to think about.

Someone…

“Sophie—” I started to say, but Mitch cut me off.

“We’re not together anymore.” Relief sharp and potent rushed through me. Mitch’s eyes drank me in. All of me. I felt that look everywhere. “I should have shown up at this door a long time ago. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long,” he whispered.

Oh my god.

Oh. My. God!

“But—” I couldn’t finish my thought because he placed his lips on mine. Not hard. Not rough. Just the barest touch of skin to skin.

“Tell me to come inside,” he whispered against my mouth. He wasn’t asking. He was telling. And damn, it was hot.

His eyes were full of turmoil and chaos. I was going to drown in them.

“Is that a good idea?” I asked him. He ran his thumbs along the curve of my cheeks, our noses touching, breathing in each other. Only each other.

We had been here once before. Only then I had been the one begging to be let in. One night was all it took to destroy the beautiful friendship that we had. I was scared to lose whatever tenuous footing we had gained in our relationship. I was terrified to ruin us all over again.

But I was a different woman now than I had been a year ago. I had learned a lot about my own strength. I had developed some self-worth. And the Gracie that finally acknowledged that she loved him wasn’t going to run away when the going got tough.

I reached up and ran my hand through his damp hair and he shuddered beneath my fingers.

“With you, I feel like I’m always falling,” he sighed.

Mitch bent down and ran his nose along my neck and it was my turn to tremble, my legs barely keeping me upright.

“Me too,” I whispered.

“Don’t close the door on me, Gracie. Don’t turn me away. I need you.” He looked down at me, his eyes burning bright. “I need you.”

I wanted to open my door. I wanted to let him into my home. Into my life. But I was still bothered about Sophie. They had just broken up.

Was I the rebound?

Mitch picked up on my hesitation. He knew me well enough to read my thoughts.

“Maybe you should think about this first. We don’t have rush into it. You just broke up with Soph—”

“Stop,” he said. It came out sharply. “I’m not with here because of her. This has nothing to do with Sophie.”

“I don’t see how you can say that,” I argued. Why was I arguing?

Because if this was going to happen, it was going to be done right. And not with the residuals of another relationship hanging over our heads.

Mitch closed his eyes and let out a frustrated breath. I remained unmoving in front of my door. He wasn’t coming in. Not yet.

When he opened his eyes he was composed. Resolute. He cupped his hands on either side of my neck and looked deeply into my eyes.

“The night Sophie and I hooked up was two weeks after you and I were together,” he began and I blanched. I really didn’t want to know the details.

“Mitch, seriously, I don’t want to know—”

“Just listen, Gracie. Please.”

I closed my mouth and let him continue.

“I was drunk. And I spent most of the night crying on her shoulder about you. I was in so much pain that I couldn’t see straight. I just wanted it to stop. I wanted the image of you gone. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. My heart was in a hundred pieces.”

I hated to think of him like that. It hurt. A lot.

“When I was with Sophie, it dulled the pain a little. For a while anyway. That’s not to say that I didn’t really care about her, because I did. Sophie is a nice girl. She’s just not the girl I wanted. So I let myself continue in a relationship that I didn’t feel because I was bitter and angry and resentful. Because I was so pissed and hurt over you rejecting me that anything was better than being alone and wanting you.”

Mitch’s mouth twisted and his fingers dug into my skin. “I hurt a perfectly sweet woman because I’m an idiot who tried to lie to his own heart. I should never have been with her. I shouldn’t have done that to her. Or me. Or you. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. I should have been here, at your door, begging you to be with me.”

My heart thumped wildly as his words hit me.

“I should have waited until you were ready. I shouldn’t have let my pride and ego dictate my decisions. Because, Gracie,” he paused, looked into my eyes. “Every single minute of every single day that I wasn’t with you was wasted time.”

I felt the tears before I realized I was crying. They trailed down my cheeks and he kissed the salty wetness away. “You are my beginning.” Kiss. “You are my middle.” Kiss. Kiss. “You are my ever after.”

“So I’m sorry about Sophie. I’m sorry that she got caught up in my bullshit need to erase you. But I’m not sorry about how I feel about you. I’m not sorry for standing here at one in the goddamn morning and hoping that you’ll let me in. I can’t ever regret doing what needed to be done so that I ended up here.”

Well, damn.

“But I’m not leaving, Gracie. Never again,” he swore, then his mouth captured mine and all doubts were gone.

The force of the kiss took us both by surprise. Mitch pulled away, panting. “I’m not going to be gentle,” he warned.

“Okay,” I gasped.

And he was kissing me again, his tongue plunged inside. Taking. Owning. He had me completely.

He pushed me up against the wall, his hands holding me still as he kissed me punishingly. He bit down on my bottom lip, drawing blood, and I moaned so loudly that I was pretty sure my neighbors would hear. We were still out in the freezing cold hallway and we were giving zero fucks about that.

He cupped my ass and pulled me up against him. I felt his erection straining behind his zipper. He was touching me everywhere. Pressing. Rubbing. Sliding. Fingers on flesh. Pulling. Grasping. Never, ever enough.

His hands became tangled in my hair and I found myself rubbing myself against him frantically. I would have crawled up inside of him if I could. I wanted to be closer. As close as I could get while still being two separate people.

“I’m desperate for you, Gracie. I always have been,” he said against my mouth. “Let me in. Let me love you.”

I felt the doubts stirring below the surface. They wanted me to acknowledge them. There were still so many variables to consider. My issues. Our damaged past. How we had hurt each other. Whether we could trust one another.

But right then, none of it mattered.

Because Mitch needed me.

As much as I needed him.

I reached behind me and pushed the door open wider. Still kissing, we stumbled into my apartment and Mitch slammed the door shut with his foot. We broke apart, our lips puffy and swollen.

“Should we go to the bed—?”

Mitch started kissing me again and I stopped trying to speak. We sank down onto the couch as we devoured each other. We kissed like we never wanted to stop.

Mitch unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it off my shoulders. There was nothing delicate in his actions. He wasn’t tender. This was a man who was going to get what he wanted.

He pushed me back onto the sofa and leaned over me. I stared up into his beloved face and I wanted to tell him that I loved him.

I wanted to kiss his lips and give him everything that I had. But there was something wild in his eyes. Something out of control and a little scary. I was so turned on that I couldn’t help but writhe beneath him. I wanted his touch so badly that I thought I’d lose my mind.

“What do you want me to do?” he growled, tracing a line from my collarbone down between my breasts, stopping just below my navel. He toyed with the button of my jeans, slipping his finger below the material.

I tried to rub myself against his thigh, needing the friction. I was throbbing. I was so excited it had become a physical pain.

His finger rubbed back and forth along the tender skin just below the waistline of my pants. He stared down at me, licking his lips.

“Gracie, what do you want me to do?” he repeated, smirking at me with a smile that was downright devious.

“I want you to touch me,” I huffed. Wasn’t that freaking obvious?

Mitch dipped his head and lightly ran his lips along the curve of my belly. Not kissing. Not licking. Just a teasing, tantalizing touch.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” he whispered against my skin.

Fucking hell!

I didn’t answer right away, too caught up in the sensations wracking my body.

He nipped at the skin above my hip and I yelped in surprise. “Where do you want me to touch you, Gracie?” he demanded, harsher this time.

“Everywhere, Mitch! Everywhere!” I moaned.

“Here?” he breathed, kissing my belly button, his tongue dipping inside.

“Oh,” I groaned.

“Or should I touch you here?” he asked, slowly unbuttoning my jeans and pulling down the zipper. He peeled them back and kissed my mound through the fabric of my underwear.

It wasn’t enough and he knew it. He was teasing me and enjoying every single minute of it.

“More,” I whined. I sounded like a bratty kid who didn’t get the candy bar she wanted. I didn’t give a shit.

“You need to be specific,” he laughed.

I gripped his hair and gave it a yank, pulling him back up the length of my body. He wanted to play rough? Well he’d get rough.

When he had settled his weight on top of me, fitting between my thighs, I stared up into his eyes. We were burning for each other. This is what it felt like to be on fire. To be consumed from the inside out.

“I want you to put your cock inside me,” I purred and he groaned. I tugged his hair again, harder this time. “I want you to fuck me so hard that I will feel you between my legs for days.” I arched up, grinding against him. “I’ll beg for if that’s what you want. I can plead for you to screw my brains out.” I pulled his ear lobe into his mouth and bit down. Not too hard. Just hard enough.

“But I just want to feel you everywhere,” I whispered.

Something changed on Mitch’s face and his eyes softened. He shuddered then wrapped his arms around me, rolling both of us over so I was now on top, straddling him.

He pressed his hand over my thumping heart and held it there. It was beating so hard and so fast I wondered if it would imprint on his palm. “I just want you to feel me here,” he said, the words cracking and falling a part. “It’s the only place I ever want to be.” His voice broke and shattered and I came completely undone.

“Mitch,” I let out in a tattered, tortured breath. And then we were kissing again. He quickly removed my shirt and bra, throwing them on the floor. He trailed his lips down my body until he reached my nipple. He sucked the taut, sensitive bud in between his teeth and I arched into his mouth.

“I want you naked underneath me,” he rasped against my breast. “I want to own every inch of you.”

“Well I can’t be the only naked one here,” I pouted and Mitch laughed.

He ripped off his shirt, buttons flying. One landed with a ping against the radiator. He balled up the fabric and threw it across the room. “Is that better?” he asked, giving me a cheeky grin.

I nodded, my tongue thick in my mouth as I stared at his muscular chest. He didn’t have any piercings or tattoos like the rest of the guys in the band. Most people wouldn’t look at him and see a rock star.

His skin was unblemished and perfect. He didn’t need anything else to be beautiful.

I pulled him up so that he was in a sitting position and wrapped my arms around him, kissing his chest, licking his skin and nibbling a line up to the base of his throat.

“Mmmm,” he sighed. I had wiggled out of my jeans at some point, so that now I was only in my panties. He was still in his jeans, which was quickly becoming a problem.

But I knew, without him telling me, that Mitch wanted to take his time. It was important that we didn’t rush this.

I kissed Mitch, our lips parting, tasting and taking. “I wish I could take it away. The hurt. The betrayal. I’m so, so sorry,” I murmured. I could never apologize enough. I only hoped one day the sting of what I had done would lessen.

Mitch pulled back and looked at me long and hard. He kissed me again. Once. Twice. Three times. He smoothed the hair back away from my face, his hands so tender where before they had been demanding.

“I’m sorry too, Gracie. You’re not the only one with regrets. I made mistakes. Lots of them. The biggest was pushing you away when I should have held on tight. No matter what you said to me, that didn’t give me the right to be an asshole. Because deep down I knew.”

“What did you know?” I asked, smiling. Grinning wide and high.

Another kiss. And another. Three times.

“That you love me.” His smile was dazzling. It took my breath away.

“Am I that transparent?” I giggled.

Mitch nuzzled my throat, his day old growth on his chin rubbing against eager skin. “I see all of you, G. Even the parts you try to hide.” He looked up into my eyes and I saw his heart.

And it was mine.

“But you can’t hide from me. Because I love you. God, I love you. You are everything. You are all that I want.”

I kissed the tip of Mitch’s nose and finally, after all this time, gave him the words he wanted so badly. The ones that had always been there. The ones that I should have said a year ago when he had first given me his.

“I love you too, Mitch Abrams. I love you so much.”

Mitch let out a strangled sob, his eyes suddenly wet, and he kissed me with a ferocity that I had never experienced from him before.

In a matter of moments he had discarded his jeans and his boxers. Then slowly, lovingly, he peeled my underwear from my body. When I was lying naked before him, he gazed at me as though memorizing every single inch.

Mitch lifted me up and I felt his cock press up against me. “Hang on, baby,” he said as I clung to him. Then he carried me through the apartment and into my bedroom where he laid me carefully onto the bed.

“I don’t think I can wait another minute, Mitch. Please,” I moaned as he settled between my legs.

“I can’t wait either. I’ve been dreaming of this for so damn long,” he let out in an agonized rush. Sheathing himself in a condom he stopped and stared down at me, a question in his eyes.

“What?” I asked him.

“Promise me you won’t walk away this time. Promise me that when we do this, it’s forever. I can’t survive losing you again, Gracie.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist and reached between our bodies to grasp him in my hand. With my eyes on his, I guided him to my entrance and lifted my hips so that he slid inside.

“I promise, Mitch. This is the only place I ever want to be.”

With a heartbreaking smile, Mitch pushed inside me and I stretched and strained to accommodate him. It felt perfect.

Like coming home.

“I love you, Mitch,” I moaned as he thrust into me over and over and over again.

“I love you, Gracie! So fucking much.”

This was his unconditional forever. It was a promise I could trust.

We were Mitch and Gracie.

Gracie and Mitch.

And this is exactly how we should be.

Together.

Always.