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Her buzz had worn off by the time they made it back to her place, but Sophie didn’t feel sober in the least. Never did when Mitch was nearby, only now she wasn’t trying to ignore it. “Don’t ever change.”
“Nothing to worry about there. I was born this way, and the docs say there’s no cure.”
Biting back a grin, Sophie unlocked the door and pushed him inside.
“Say it.” He blocked the doorway, leaning against the frame. “Say you like me.”
It was increasingly ridiculous that she did, but she couldn’t stop herself. Every little thing he did only made her like him more.
When she couldn’t hold it back any longer — mostly because she didn’t want to, and also because she really wanted to get inside — she plastered herself to him, tipped her chin up so she could look him in the eye, and whispered, “I like you.”
“I know,” he said, smile wide as he shuffled backward, bringing her with him, and kicked the door closed. “I’m not going anywhere, so you better get used to it. Otherwise, it’s gonna be real weird at the wedding.”
“I don’t even know if I want to get married.”
He pulled her in, kissing her, deep and filthy. “Then I’ll stick to writing Mr. Sophie in my diary and be happy with cohabitation.”
Finally, she broke into a grin she couldn’t contain. “You’re an odd little man.”
“Hey, I’m taller than you.” He slid his hands under her shirt and cupped her breasts.
Sophie’s whimper got lost between their mouths. Damn, he knew just how to turn her into putty.
Soon, her chest was bared to him, and Mitch hadn’t even lost his damn shirt. But Sophie quickly righted that wrong. “Wow, what an accomplishment. You should add that to your resume for when they fire you for cavorting in the workplace.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “You love me.”
She pulled him in for another kiss. “Hurry up and take your pants off.”
* * *
Pizza was Mitch’s idea. He was smart. So smart. Good thing Sophie had decided to keep him around. Who didn’t love pizza after sex?
“Do you ever think about why you push everyone away but still keep Levi close?”
Sophie groaned. “No.” The piece of pepperoni she picked off took a wad of cheese with it. She pulled slowly until the string broke and popped it into her mouth.So good.
“Because I think I know why.” They were tangled together on her couch. In their underwear— because ever since the night with the couple from Bumble, she never let anyone sit on her couch buck naked.
“Oh, you do? And are you going to diagnose me, oh wise one?”
“MaybeI’ve given this a bit too much thought.” Surprise, surprise. “But have you ever stopped to think about why kids create these awesome people to hang out with but stop talking about them when they get older?”
“Yeah, because we make actual friends.” Usually.
“Exactly,” Mitch shot up. “We let them go to move on to something more tangible.”
“So what? We got left behind?”
“No, I was thinking maybe they have unfinished business.”
“Like actual ghosts? I was joking about the building being haunted.”
Mitch ignored her sarcasm. Rude. “Do you think you still see Levi because it’s safer to be vulnerable with someone who was born from a part of your own mind? Because that way, he can’t truly hurt you?”
Sophie dropped the crust back into the box. A few drinks, and Mitch became a damn psychiatrist. A damn good one, actually.
It was hard to even know where to start. Or maybe it wasn’t hard at all.
