Chapter Seventeen
Since Bear only had a measly ten minutes left of his shift, I decide to wait out the clock for him instead of tagging along with Jay and Mac. They absolutely hated me for it—throwing dramatic, betrayed glares my way as they left—but honestly, oh well.
A few minutes later, I was sitting in the passenger seat of Bear’s car, watching him casually stroll across the asphalt toward the driver’s side. The man literally even walked hot. It was a talent. Or, you know, maybe I was just being a completely shameless, horny little bitch.
He opens the door, his massive frame sinking into the seat, and tossed his keys into the ignition. “Have fun today?” he asks dryly.
“I actually did,” I answer honestly, watching his profile.
He let out a low grunt, pulling out of the parking space. “Those two are a terrible influence.”
“Says the guy who literally spent three years in prison,” I tease, giving him a playful nudge.
He rolls his eyes but didn’t argue, steering the car out into the main traffic. We had been driving for about ten minutes when I suddenly realize the surrounding buildings didn’t look familiar at all. We definitely weren’t on the route back to our apartment.
“Where exactly are we going?” I murmur, shifting in my seat to look at him.
“Dinner,” Bear answers simply, his eyes fixed on the road.
A slow, giddy smile broke across my face. “Like... a date?”
He just grunts, his jaw clenching slightly.
“Oh, come on, Mitchell. I’d actually like a real answer,” I push, leaning in closer.
“Yes,” he growls, though the slight flush on his neck entirely gave him away.
We pull into the parking lot of a classic, neon-lit diner and hop out of the car. My stomach was doing frantic, nervous flips, and it only got worse when Bear smoothly reaches down and tangles his large, calloused fingers with mine, holding my hand firmly as we walked through the doors.
Get a grip, Danny. Act normal.
“Table for two?” the waitress asks, intercepting us at the front podium.
“Yes,” Bear grunts.
“Perfect! I’m Bailey, and I’ll be your server tonight,” she chirps happily, leading us over to a cozy corner booth. “Can I start you guys off with something to drink?”
“I’ll have a lemonade, please,” I say with a smile.
“Same,” Bear mutters, sliding his massive legs under the table across from me.
“I’ll be right back with those!” Bailey sang out, swirling around to fetch our orders.
Bear watches her walk away, his brows furrowing. “She is entirely too loud.”
“She’s not loud, she’s just happy,” I retort, opening up my menu.
“I’m happy,” he argues defensively.
I level him with a flat, amused deadpan. “Mitchell, you literally don’t show it at all.”
He pauses, a tiny bit of awkwardness bleeding into his tough exterior, and forces his lips into a hilarious, stiff, unpracticed smile. It was so completely uncharacteristic that I burst out laughing, the tension in my chest instantly evaporating.
“Here are those lemonades,” Bailey says, popping the sweating glasses down on the table. “I’ll give you guys a couple of minutes to look over the food options and be right back with you.”
We thank her, and as she walks away, I lean my elbows on the table, stirring my drink. I watch Bear take a long sip of his lemonade. “So... how old are you, actually?” I ask.
“Twenty-three,” he answers, setting the glass down.
I did the math in my head, my eyes softening. “So... you went away to prison when you were only nineteen?”
“Look at you. You’re smart,” he grumbles, though there was a hint of a tease in his rough voice.
I giggle, taking a sip of my own drink. “So, how come you’re not ordering a beer or something? Why don’t you drink?”
“I just don’t,” he mutters, looking away.
“That is definitely not what Jay says,” I claim, leaning forward with a smirk. “He told me you are quite literally the best drunk on the face of the planet.”
Bear rolls his eyes dramatically, letting out a heavy huff. “I don’t drink all the time,” he corrects himself strictly.
“Okay, fair enough,” I concede. I stare at him across the booth, waiting for him to keep the conversation going. “Did you want to know anything about me?”
“No.”
“Mitchell, we are on an actual date,” I say, entirely amused by his lack of protocol. “This is the part where we’re supposed to ask questions and get to know each other.”
He let out another trademark grunt. “I already know you.”
“Oh yeah?” I challenge, crossing my arms. “What’s my favorite color?”
“Yellow,” he answers without even a second of hesitation.
My eyes widen in genuine surprise. “Wow. That’s actually correct.”
“Most of the clothes you own are yellow,” he states plainly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Plus, you wear that yellow bracelet every single day.”
“Wow,” I awe, a little breathless that he noticed such small details. “Okay, mastermind. What’s my favorite movie?”
“Fifty First Dates,” he answers instantly.
What. The. Actual. Hell.
“How the hell do you even know that?!” I hiss, my jaw practically hitting the table.
A smug, devastating little smirk spread across his lips. “It’s literally your most played title on Netflix, Danny. The algorithm doesn’t lie.”
“You have an incredibly good eye,” I murmur, my cheeks heating up.
He gave a casual shrug. “Yeah.”
I used my straw to stir the ice in my glass, my tone turning a little more serious. “What’s something that absolutely no one else knows about you?”
“Everything,” he answers flatly.
“You’re going to have to be way more specific than that, Mitchell,” I tease softly.
He let out a sharp breath, shifting uncomfortably against the vinyl booth. He stays quiet for so long I didn’t think he was going to answer, but then he looks right into my eyes. “I didn’t lose my virginity until I was nineteen.”
“No way,” I gasp softly, entirely intrigued. “Why?”
“I just didn’t think it was necessary,” he says, his voice dropping low. “I wasn’t in love with anyone, so I didn’t see the point in doing it.”
“Who... who was it with?” I ask, leaning closer across the table.
“It was right after Crystal died,” he mutters, his emerald eyes clouding over with a sudden, dark shadow. “I was in an incredibly bad place, and I just desperately wanted to forget everything.”
“Did you forget?” I murmur gently.
“No,” he whispers.
My heart squeezes with a profound, heavy ache for him. Reaching across the table, I slide my hand over his, softly running my thumb along the back of his knuckles. “I’m sorry, Bear.”
He let out a soft grunt, the tension in his hand easing slightly under my touch.
Just then, Bailey marches back over, flashing a bright smile. “Ready to order, folks?”
“No,” Bear growls, his wall slamming right back up.
Bailey physically flinches at his harsh tone, but being a professional, she kept her retail smile plastered on her face. “No problem! I’ll come back in a bit.”
The second she walks away; I shoot Bear a fierce glare. “Mitchell, that was not nice.”
“I’m not a nice guy, Danny,” he mutters, staring down at his glass.
“You are to me,” I say softly, a warm smile breaking through.
Bear lifts his head, his emerald gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch entirely in my throat. “Because I actually trust you.”
“We... we should probably look at the menu,” I murmur, completely flushed as I look down at the laminated paper. My heart was pounding so loudly I was terrified he could hear it.
Oh my god. A terrifying, beautiful realization hit me right then and there. I think I was falling for Mitchell. Like, genuinely in love with him. But a panicked voice in my head immediately screamed that it was way too soon for that. I had only known the man for two short months.
It was crazy, right?
----
Bear could clearly sense that something was wrong the second we got back to the apartment. I had gone completely quiet in the car, trapped in my own head. I panic and just gave him a lame excuse, telling him I was starting to feel a little sick to my stomach.
“Do you want a glass of water?” he asks, his brow furrowed with concern as we stand in the kitchen.
“No, I think I’ll just go lay down for a bit,” I murmur, avoiding his eyes.
He gave a slow nod, and I could feel his heavy gaze tracking my every move as I walk down the hallway to my bedroom.
The second I cross the threshold, I face-planted directly into my mattress, letting out a long, miserable groan into my pillows. I honestly couldn’t believe this. There was no way I could be falling for Bear this fast. I hadn’t even fallen for Jason this quickly, and besides the absolute horror show fact that he ended up sleeping with my mother, Jason had actually been a great, attentive boyfriend.
The soft creak of my bedroom door breaking open interrupts my spiral. I roll onto my stomach, looking up as Bear steps into the room. Without asking, he climbs onto the mattress, laying down on his side right beside me, propping his head up on his hand.
“Are you mad at me?” he asks quietly.
“No,” I answer honestly, softening at the sight of him on my bed. “Why would you think that?”
“You’ve been completely distant towards me since we left the diner,” he says, his green eyes searching my face.
“I’ve just had a lot of things on my mind,” I whisper, turning my head to face him fully. “Nothing you need to worry about, though. I promise.”
He nods, accepting the answer, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. His eyes began to wander around my bedroom, taking in the plain walls. “I’m actually surprised you haven’t put up any pictures or decorations in here yet.”
I blink at him. “Am I... am I actually allowed to?”
“Yeah,” he let out a low, rare chuckle. “Of course you are.”
“I don’t know, I just thought since we rent the place—”
“You rent,” Bear corrects smoothly, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I own this entire apartment.”
“Really?” I ask, completely surprised. “How?”
“I bought it flat-out with the inheritance money my dad left behind,” he answers, his tone turning a bit distant.
“Left you?” I question gently.
“He and my mum died,” he says bluntly. “In a car accident. When I was sixteen.”
I quickly did the math in my head, a deep frown forming on my face. If Bear was sixteen, that meant Jay was also only sixteen, and their older brother would have been nineteen. They were all just kids.
“That is so incredibly sad, Mitchell,” I whisper, a wave of sympathy washing over me. “What happened?”
“Like I said, a car accident,” he sighs, staring at the ceiling. “Dad was an absolute dick, but our mum... she was our entire world.”
“Why was your dad a dick?” I ask softly, reaching out to gently stroke the bare skin of his arm.
Bear’s jaw tightens at the memory. “He didn’t support Jay when he came out. One night, he lost his mind and started beating the living shit out of him. Luckily, Darren was there to step in and stop it.”
“Darren,” I repeat the name softly, a lightbulb going off. “Wow. I never actually knew his name until this exact second.”
Bear glances down at me, his brows pulling together. “Mac never told you?”
“You never told me,” I joke, nudging his side.
“I told you I had a brother,” Bear retorts stubbornly, though the shadow in his eyes lifted a bit. “Be grateful.”
“I am,” I murmured, sliding closer to him on the mattress and resting my head against his solid chest.
And I truly, deeply meant it. I was so incredibly grateful that Mitchell Bear Roberts was in my life.