Chapter 18
This Changes Everything
MITCHELL
MITCHELL: You can read this.
MITCHELL: Why didn’t you block me, Winona?
MITCHELL: I’m not going to stop. Not until you respond to me.
Across the room, Winona’s jaw pulsed.
“What do you think, Mitch?” Blake asked. “You listen to Reese Franco?”
Luckily, I’d heard a few words of the conversation in the pauses between texts. They were talking about Cassandra’s sister-in-law, who’d recently exploded onto the folk-rock charts.
“I have all her albums,” I said. I bought them the minute Blake told me about her.
Told everyone I knew. She was good. Sexy voice.
A beautiful woman, too. But she didn’t hold a fucking candle to the woman on the chair across from me.
The one with the platinum waves curling from her face, which was flushed because she’d been caught.
She’d read all my texts. All of them. She could have blocked me, but she didn’t. This changed everything. An inferno roared inside me at this newfound knowledge, burning through every promise I’d made to myself about staying away.
Because I strongly suspected Winona didn’t want me to stay away.
“Your brother’s a lucky man,” I said, tipping my beer in Cassandra’s direction.
Winona, sitting next to her, went a little stiff.
Cassandra held up her glass. “Cheers to that. I remind him every chance I get.”
Winona took a swig of wine.
I was a man who’d just discovered he has magic powers. Who’d met his infant child for the first time. I believed in fucking miracles.
Sarah and Cher started talking about Reese’s latest single, and my phone buzzed in my hand.
WINONA: Stop texting me. It’s rude.
MITCHELL: You sent that one, Firecracker. And I will, but I don’t think you want me to.
WINONA: Why on earth would you think that, b’y?
MITCHELL: Because you’re blushing. And it’s fucking beautiful.
Like I’d pressed a button, Winona’s face flooded with even more color. She smiled politely at something Cassandra said, then held her phone under the arm of her chair and typed back.
WINONA: Fuck you, Mitchell.
I read the text. It was close enough to fuck off that I needed to follow through. I pocketed my phone.
Winona’s eyelashes fluttered. She looked up at me, her mouth opening and closing just slightly. She snapped her mouth shut and looked away.
But she didn’t put her phone back in her pocket. I willed her to write back.
Do it, Firecracker. Tell me exactly what you’re thinking.
She ran a finger through her hair in a falsely casual move. Her lip sucked into her teeth.
I was treading on dangerous ground now, watching her. My fingers were this close to grabbing my phone and telling her to meet me back in the kitchen, now. Hell, to saying it out loud.
Finally, she picked up her phone again.
WINONA: Staring is rude, too, Mitchell.
MITCHELL: You make it very hard not to. I meant what I said. You’re beautiful. You take my fucking breath away, Winona.
Winona glanced at her screen. Then to the person speaking. Then back again.
I had no idea who was talking now. I was wholly absorbed in Winona, unravelling before my eyes. When I’d seen her in that kitchen, I was half sure she was going to throw her glass at me. Now, well, she still might.
She looked torn. Like she wanted to say something, but was hesitant. I held my phone at my side, waiting. It was a full minute before I felt the vibration.
WINONA: What did you do with my bra?
Well shit. I glanced up. She wasn’t looking at me. She was smiling at her friend Sarah, who was telling a story about what, I had no idea.
But Winona held the phone tightly in her hand. Her chest rose and fell a little faster than before.
I could have told her I got rid of it. But I got the sense that’s not what she wanted to hear.
It also wasn’t the truth.
MITCHELL: I take it out sometimes, just to feel it in my hands.
That was the truth. Winona’s lips parted when she read the text, her tongue darting out just a little. Heat surged in my lower half.
The time for playing it safe was over.
MITCHELL: When I do, I picture it on you.
MITCHELL: And off of you.
I purposefully didn’t look at her after that one. I don’t think I’d be able to without doing something extremely foolish.
WINONA: …
The three dots disappeared. They appeared again, then were gone.
Come on, Firecracker. You can do it.
Finally, my phone buzzed.
WINONA: How do I look? When you think of me like that?
Fuck. Me. My brother was speaking now, and I guess I was staring too hard in my effort not to look at Winona, because he gave me a strange look.
I had to glance over at the window to keep him from saying something.
When he looked away, I snatched up my coat from the chair next to me, holding it in front of my lower half so I didn’t embarrass myself.
I took a breath as I thumbed out the next text.
MITCHELL: You look fucking glorious, Winona. I already know you have the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen.
MITCHELL: I almost don’t want to see them, because I know when I do, all other tits will be ruined for me.
They already were. I couldn’t think of anything but her. It was a sickness. I realized too late I’d said when and not if, but I didn’t care anymore.
MITCHELL: Some nights, I swear I can almost feel them in my hands. I’m almost positive they’d fit fucking perfectly. The only thing better would be getting to taste them.
There was a loud clunk as Winona’s phone fell to the ground, landing face up, my text right there. “Oh, let me—” Cassandra started, but Winona snatched the phone away, laughing a little too loudly.
“I’m fine,” she said.
She wasn’t fine. She was breathing hard, her hands shaking.
I went too far. But right now, I didn’t care. I just wanted her. And I wanted her to admit she wanted me, too.
Winona stood up. “I need to use the facilities.” She seemed to remember, though, that I was blocking her way, and didn’t move.
“I brought some wine,” I said. “It’s in my car. I’ll be right back.” It was weak. But following her to the bathroom was a little weird, even for me. Plus, there was a case of Bordeaux in the back. You just never knew.
I stepped aside, letting Winona hurry past. She didn’t even look at me. Then I headed for the front door.