“They were here when I moved in,” I say and explain the dish soap situation.
“Ah, I’m sure we have extra.”
“I’d appreciate it.” I don’t look at him as I serve us each a slice.
“Cheese, huh? Still with your cheese is the best topping you could ever ask for thing?”
“I never said that.” I look at him now. “I said it’s the easiest topping to judge a pie by. If you start adding toppings, you get lost in other flavors, so I stick to cheese.”
“And?” He takes a bite after I do.
“It’s good,” I say when I’m finished chewing. “It’s big.”
“That’s what she said.” The side of his mouth turns up.
I shake my head and keep eating. When I’m done with my first slice, I start feeling a little less hazy, remember my manners, and ask him if he wants something to drink. He goes for wine, which surprises me.
“What are you, thirty?” I ask as I pour him a glass and slide it over to him, setting an elbow on the counter as I look up at him.
He chuckles. “I drink wine on special occasions.”
“What’s so special about this occasion?” I ask, then add, “And if you say me I swear I’ll vomit.”
Mitch chuckles as he takes a sip of wine. “In that case, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
“Why are you here?” I straighten. “Really, why are you here?”
“I miss you.” He sets his glass down and walks around the counter so he’s in front of me. “I miss being with you.”
“That’s impossible, Mitchell,” I whisper. “You were only with me for a moment.”
“And a moment was all it took.” He brings a hand up and cups my face. “What can I do to convince you to give me another chance?”
“Nothing.” I blink rapidly, silently praying I don’t start to cry. Stupid wine. “I don’t know that I can open myself up to you again.”
“That’s fair.” He swallows. “Friends, then?”
“Friends.” I eye him cautiously.
The sparkle in his green eyes does nothing to convince me that he truly means to stay in the friend zone, but I decide to go along with it for now.
Chapter Eleven
My eyes pop open at the sound of the doorbell. When I look at the clock, it says five thirty. I shake my head and bury my face into my pillow. No freaking way. It rings again. I groan before getting out of bed and walking over to it slowly. Sure enough, it’s Mitchell, looking all fresh faced and ready for a run.
“It’s your day off.” I open the door with a heavy sigh. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”
He chuckles. “Going on a run?”
“At five thirty in the morning.”
“Early bird and all that.”
“I’m not a bird and if I was, I certainly wouldn’t be an early one. I’m tired. Go away.” I start shutting the door, but he catches it with his hand and pokes his head inside.
“Come on, Misty. Don’t you want as much information as you can get?”
“I already have it. You guys work way too hard and only a very low percentage gets to reap those benefits beyond college. I don’t need to go on a five a.m. run for that.”
“So go on the run with a friend just because.”
I glare at him.
“Come on, Mist.” He reaches for me, hooking a finger into the pocket of the light cardigan I’m wearing. “Keep me company.”
“I hate you.” I shut my eyes briefly. When I open them again, he looks like he’s trying hard not to smile. “You’re making me coffee while I get ready.”
“I’m on it.” He walks toward the kitchen as I head to my room and shut the door between us.
This is all too reminiscent of the first time we fell in love and it scares me, but because of our history, I do believe Mitchell when he says he wants to be just friends. Everyone knows baseball is his number one, first love, and everything and everyone else pales in comparison to how he feels about that. As long as I keep that in mind, I’ll be fine.
“You good?” Mitch asks.
I nod, unable to respond because I’m saving all of my energy for breathing as I run. Today’s run has been surprisingly easier than yesterday’s, despite my aching muscles and the exhaustion I felt when I started. We’re almost done and even though I’ve kept a very slow pace that Mitchell has graciously matched, it’s been good. We slow down when we get to the tree we started by and I put my arms over my head, focusing on my labored breath. Mitch looks totally unfazed by this, which doesn’t surprise me. My sister is like that as well. She’s been doing it for so long that her body just responds with the motions and her lungs don’t seem to get as worked up as a regular person.