Page 60 of Chasing After You
I’ve been dying to catch her alone to ask why she didn’t tell me she was coming on this trip. I tried texting Mirabelle last night to ask her, but when she didn’t respond, I knocked on her hotel door before curfew. It didn’t matter, though. Mirabelle still didn’t answer. It’s irritating how good she is at avoiding me actually, and I’ll be damned if I let another minute go by without talking to her.
I smile because if she refuses in front of everyone, Stacey will lose her shit. Did I trap her into talking to me? Maybe, but I regret nothing.
Mirabelle adjusts the strap on her shoulder, and I take that as my sign to walk to the empty row at the back of the plane. I don’t care if it means forfeiting my first-class seat for the ride back. I’d rather sit next to her.
She takes the window seat, immediately continuing her streak of trying to avoid me by looking out the window.
“I think I deserve to know why you’re avoiding me,” I whisper, and Mirabelle answers with a scoff.
“I’m not avoiding you.”
That’s hilarious.“You could at least look at me while you try to lie,” I muse, buckling my seatbelt per the flight attendant’s instructions. I have a pretty good feeling I know why Mirabelle’s avoiding me, but I’d like to hear it from her. I thought I said all the right things in the moment, but clearly, I did something I’m not aware of.
Mirabelle turns to look at me, her cheeks flaming red. “Are you happy now? I’m not avoiding you.”
“I tried to talk to you last night, but you didn’t answer your door,” I say quietly, doing my best not to say the wrong thing. I want her to tell me what I did, because I can’t stand the silence.
Mirabelle turns back to the window again. “Huh, that’s weird. Maybe I was in the shower.”
I’m not great at this whole passive aggressive shit. I can barely say the right thing when she’s speaking normal English, and not whatever this is. “Mirabelle, please.”
She fidgets with the strap of her seatbelt as the plane smoothly lifts into the air, but she doesn’t react.
“It’s not a big deal that you haven’t dated a lot.”
Her entire body tenses up, and I’m glad we’re stuck on a plane together because she can’t run from me. “Stop,” she whispers.
“No, I’m not going to stop until you talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I want you to forget I ever said anything about it,” Mirabelle whispers, looking around to see if anyone is paying attention to us, but no one sits at the back of the plane if they can help it. We played an entire game and are now on a plane back to North Carolina. Half the team is either asleep or about to be, and the other half definitely has headphones on.
“Sorry, it’s hard for me to forget that you think kissing you is the same as kissing a piece of cardboard. I like to recycle, but not that much.” I try to lighten the mood, but her face falls nonetheless. It fucking kills me to see her sad.
“It’s not only that. I’m embarrassed, Henry. I’m embarrassed because when Reid broke up with me, he made me feel like I’m not good enough.” Her eyes are sparkling with unshed tears, and I open my mouth to talk, but Mirabelle shakes her head quickly. “I know you’re going to say he wasn’t man enough to try to make me orgasm, but what if I’m the problem? I said no too much, I’m a bad kisser, and I’m so . . .” She falls quiet, and I think I’m ready to kill this asshole. She sniffles quietly, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. “I’m afraid I’m so inexperienced that when I’m finally with the right guy, I’ll mess it up. I hate that I’m insecure about that. I’m Mirabelle Walker, for fuck’s sake. I shouldn’t care about this because I know the right guy won’t care, but I do.”
Her ex better start counting his days because he doesn’t deserve to breathe anymore. I’ll make it as painful as he deserves if she never looks this sad again about the bullshit he said to her.
Did I hear her right? She said no too much? That’s not even a real fucking thing. You can say no as much as you like because if it isn’t consensual, it shouldn’t be fucking happening.
Mirabelle’s mouth falls open, and she looks at me in horror. “Did I say all that out loud?”
“Would it make you feel better if I told you no?” I ask, and she inhales sharply, wiping her cheeks.
“I’m sorry. None of that is your problem, so seriously ignore I said any of that.”
I don’t think there’s a single damn thing I can say right now to make her feel better, so I take her hand, softly pressing my lips to the back of it. “When I need to clear my head, I listen to audiobooks. It helps calm my brain to escape somewhere else for a bit, and I’ll be honest, I’m terrified to say the wrong thing that will make you more upset. I’m glad you told me, though. Thank you.”
She unbuckles her seatbelt, sliding into the middle seat I left open to give her space. “Can I listen to your book with you?” Mirabelle asks, squeezing my hand as she rests our intertwined ones in her lap.
“We can find a new one so you’re not jumping in halfway.”
“That’s okay. I want to listen to yours.”
No one has ever asked to do that with me.
I open my headphones case, passing her one before inserting my own, trying to focus on the case that’s about to be cracked wide open.
Mirabelle rests her head gently on my shoulder, and the intoxicating vanilla scent that clings to her is the only thing I can focus on.
