The Troublemaker - Page 21

“Second day here and you’re napping?” His green eyes gleamed mischief as he spoke.

“I wasn’t napping. I was resting my eyes.” My brows furrowed as I stepped back, letting him into the apartment. “How’d you know I was napping anyway?”

“Your hair’s a mess.” He patted the top of my head and walked in with ease and comfort like he owned the place. I shut the door and looked at my reflection in the long mirror beside me.

My loose ponytail had come undone and my long, brown hair was in complete disarray. I pulled the elastic and fixed it. My cheeks were slightly pink and I wasn’t sure if it was from my interaction with Mitch or my nap. I looked like I was wearing light blush on my naturally olive, currently makeup-less skin. I stopped primping and followed Mitch into the living room. He had gotten taller. He was probably six foot three now. At five foot seven, I had to crane my neck to look at him, and for comparison, my father was six foot one, so I knew Mitch had to be right around that height. He’d filled out some as well, his tanned muscular arms a lot more defined. He was wearing a sleeveless workout T-shirt and shorts.

“What are you doing here anyway?” I asked.

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to go for a run.”

“A run?” My eyes widened. “What in the world would make you think I’d want to run on purpose?”

“Aw, come on, Misty. You run.”

“Not on purpose.” I blinked. “I’m not my sister.”

“But you can run, right?” His words were a bit slower, as if he needed to make sure of this before he asked again.

“Yes, but I don’t enjoy it.”

“Not even in Central Park? It’s beautiful there. You’d love it.”

“Can we walk in Central Park?” I crossed my arms.

“Sure, let’s go for a walk then.” He chuckled and I was sure I’d die then.

“When did you get hot?” I blurted out, then slapped my forehead.

Mitchell laughed harder. “When did you?”

“I’ve always been hot.” I shrugged.

“Really?” His eyes were full of mischief. “And I haven’t?”

“Not particularly. You were always lanky and tall, but not . . . not hot.”

“Well, then, I’m glad you think I’m hot now.”

“I mean, I don’t see why that matters. I’m just making an observation.”

“I’m glad you’re making it,” he said, and I could tell he was trying not to laugh at me.

“So, I guess I’ll go get ready for that walk?” I said awkwardly, walking toward the guest room I was staying in.

“Yep. I’ll be right here,” he said. “Where’s your aunt anyway?”

“She’s working on a big case. She told me to go upstairs and knock on your door, but I didn’t want to intrude,” I called out as I changed into the only pair of athletic shorts I brought, a sports bra, and sneakers. It would have to do. I’d only packed this in case I got bored and decided to go to Pilates with Aunt Nini, and even though that wasn’t happening, I was glad to be putting it to use.

“That sucks,” he said. He was facing the window when I walked out into the living room and turned around when he heard my squeaky sneakers. His eyes widened. “You were right.”

“About what?”

“You were always hot.” He cocked his head. “Scratch that. Beautiful. You’ve always been beautiful.”

My heart skipped a beat and I felt myself blush furiously. This was new, this feeling. I’d had crushes on guys before, but I’d never had this reaction to one when they told me I was hot. Then again, none of them had ever told me I was beautiful.

Chapter Eighteen

Present

Misty

I wake with a start, eyes popping open quickly. At first, I’m not sure what woke me, but then I feel it again, a foot on mine, and I remember. Mitchell’s here. My heart skips a beat, then another, as I look over at him. Mitchell Cruz is sound asleep beside me in my bed. It’s the stuff of my teenage fantasies for sure. When we dated, I dreamed of days like this, when we were old enough to share a bed with no judgement. Of course, my parents would definitely still judge. I’m pretty sure my father still thinks that I’m saving myself for marriage. It’s that thought that makes me sit up straight in bed with a gasp. My parents. I start nudging Mitch.

“Wake up.” I put both hands on his arm and shake him. “Mitch. You have to wake up right now.”

“Hm.”

“I’m serious! My parents are coming over.” I get out of bed quickly and head to the bathroom, picking up my phone on the way. Two missed calls from my mother. I hit her name to call back. “Fuck.”

“Misty! I’ve been calling. We’re on our way to your apartment. Don’t worry about making breakfast, we’re bringing bagels, coffee, and donuts.”

Tags: Claire Contreras Romance
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