The Mitchell Brothers Collection: A Feel-Good Romance Box Set

by Jasmin Miller

  Thank goodness, or I might just explode.

  My brain’s been busy enough going over Rose’s words all week, unable to take a breather from her observations.

  I can only hope you’re smart enough to come to your senses, and do something about it before it’s too late.

  Her words have been ringing in my head, making me wipe my hands off on my jeans as I walk down the corridor toward the dance room.

  Thinking about Monica right now makes me slightly twitchy. I’m constantly distracted, often unaware of my surroundings, my mind fuzzy.

  Rose is to blame. Fully and wholly.

  I’m not the least bit surprised when I find several girls huddled together in front of the mirror room door, their noses pressed into the lower glass partition. They don’t even notice me, too engrossed in watching Monica dance.

  When my gaze finds her in the middle of the room, it immediately zooms in on her body, her movements fluid as she leaps and spins through the air.

  The sudden tug at my chest takes my breath away, the pressure intensifying with each second I watch her do what she does so well.

  Compelling the crowds.

  It’s an absolute privilege to be able to witness the sophistication she brings to the dance floor.

  It’s brilliant.

  Majestic.

  It’s Monica, beautiful Monica. Through and through.

  I’m not the only one noticing either. The girls are oohing and ahhing with every move she makes, and when the music—and therefore, Monica—slows down, the girls seem unable to keep their chatter in any longer.

  “I want to be just like Miss Monica when I grow up. She’s the best dancer I’ve ever seen. She looks like a princess.”

  Another girl giggles. “All she needs now is Prince Charming.”

  Someone seems to call for the girls from the other side of the hallway because they suddenly sprint away in a hurry.

  I’m not alone though.

  When I turn my head to the side, Hudson’s standing next to me.

  I’m not sure why, but neither one of us says a word as we stare at each other. Talk about weird family interactions this week.

  A sudden change in music on the other side of the door makes me whip my head back around to Monica.

  “She’s stunning.” My brother comes closer, peeking through the door with me.

  Absolutely no question about that. “She is.”

  We watch in silence, but I feel his eyes on me. Without looking at him, I allow him the entry he seems to be waiting for. “What is it?”

  “She’s not your ex, you know that, right? Monica would never pull such a crap show on you.”

  My head snaps around, my gaze staring him down. My heart beats so fast in my chest, I’m worried for a moment I might actually have a heart attack. “How?”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “People talk.”

  My mouth opens only to close again. The burst of irritation combined with a healthy dose of embarrassment over the fact that he knows—that someone else knows what went down between Alex, Ashley, and me—quickly morphs into relief.

  Until now, I didn’t realize how badly I wanted people, at least the ones closest to me, to know what happened all those years ago. Maybe I just wanted someone to tell me it wasn’t my fault, but I was too afraid they’d side with Ashley, telling me I did in fact screw up that relationship.

  The term “carrying around old baggage” suddenly makes a lot more sense. Even though I wasn’t actually that aware of it, it’s held me back, weighed me down in ways I think I still haven’t fully understood.

  Talking about it with Monica has been beyond eye-opening.

  I close my eyes briefly and let out a long breath. “I know she isn’t, not one bit.”

  We both turn toward Monica again, who’s spinning so fast in and around herself she’s almost a blur, one of her hands and legs high up in the air as she slows down.

  “She’s special. My best friend.” I’m not sure if I’m saying this to myself or to Hudson.

  He grunts next to me. “You’re an idiot.”

  Staring straight ahead, I somehow know whatever he’s going to say next is going to change everything.

  “You love her.”

  And there it is.

  The blow I was expecting.

  The reality I didn’t want to accept. The words I didn’t allow myself to think.

  Served on a silver platter.

  A truth so real and potent, I’m unable to suck in enough oxygen to keep my lungs working. My hands shake as I steady myself on the doorframe for a moment.

  Hudson shoves my arm. “What is wrong with you? You’re not gonna tell her?”

  I shake my head before looking at him.

  His mouth hangs slightly open before he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Why on earth wouldn’t you tell her? You’re seriously just going to let her leave?”

  My arm swings up, my finger pointing straight at the glass in front of us.

  At my heart’s desire.

  The reason I suddenly want to write stupid love poems, but don’t want to accept the reason for it.

  The bane of my existence in the best possible way.

  “Look at her.” My finger shakes before I finally let my arm drop back to my side. “I can’t hold her back. I won’t do that to her. She’s like this beautiful, wild animal that can’t be tamed. The one who doesn’t want to settle down. I won’t cage her in, especially knowing how much she loves to tour, and how much she misses it. She talks about it constantly.”

  “Things can change.” Hudson’s voice is somber, and I guess I can’t blame him.

  If there’s anyone who can even remotely understand Monica’s touring and wanderlust, it’s my rockstar brother.

  “I know they can. But she’s been working so hard on getting back to dancing, not to mention the fact that she’s finally gotten the solo part she’s been dreaming of ever since she was a child. What kind of monster would I be if I didn’t care about any of that?”

  “You’re a fool. Give her some credit too. She’s not some naive, little child. If anyone knows what they want, it’s Monica.”

  “Exactly.” I stare at my brother without saying a word, giving him time for his own words to sink in. When his eyes widen, I know he understands. “I need her to want this. To want me. Right now, all she wants is to leave and get back to her dancing. I won’t interfere with that.”

  He opens his mouth to say something else, but Monica must have seen us, gracefully walking over to open the door.

  “Hey, guys. So sorry, Charming, I forgot what time it was. Let me get my stuff and then we can leave, okay?” Thankfully, she’s too preoccupied to pay closer attention to the tension between my brother and me.

  When I nod, she’s already left, walking to the other side of the room to gather her things.

  Hudson clasps my shoulder and squeezes once. “I understand where you’re coming from, but I still think you’re a fool. Charlie’s waiting for me, so I better get going. Think about what I said.”

  With that, he’s off, leaving me with this little piece of well-meant advice, as if everything Monica isn’t on my mind in a constant loop anyway.

  The girls’ words from earlier join the chaos in my mind.

  Monica, the princess.

  Only needing her Prince Charming now.

  Too bad this Charming lets his princess leave so she can live the dream she’s worked for so hard.

  But it’s all worth it. Her happiness is worth it.

  I’m not sure anymore who I’m actually trying to convince at this point.

  Exhaling a loud breath, trying to get myself under control, I watch her as she throws a thin shirt over her tank top and leggings.

  When she walks back over to me, I smile at her because that’s what best friends do. They swallow the love part, accept the fact they’re utterly screwed, and hope for the best.

  Twenty-Eight

  Monica

  Gabe has been ac
ting strange all week but I have no clue why. Every time I ask him, he says everything’s fine, but he can’t fool me. I saw him talking not only to Rose but also to Hudson this week, and both conversations left him with a weird expression on his face, followed by weird behavior. He stays tight-lipped nonetheless though.

  At first, I thought it might have something to do with our new schedule. It’s been a long week, and we both had to adjust to it. Our days are filled with little kiddie classes on top of our dancing and writing, while evenings and nights belong to us. They’re utterly and completely just ours.

  I do feel bad for neglecting my friends a little, but all I want to do at the end of the day is soak up every single minute I have left with Gabe. Thankfully though, they keep visiting me at the academy throughout the day, thus allowing me to still spend time with them.

  Something is extra odd this weekend though. Gabe’s been locked away in his office more than usual, apparently trying to catch up with all the work he’s been missing during the week.

  Feeling off myself, I practiced at the academy earlier until my legs started shaking so hard, I could barely stand anymore.

  Maybe we’re both getting sick? I hope not. That’s the last thing I need right now.

  Since I came back a few hours ago, I still haven’t seen a glimpse of Gabe. Not one peep. Seeing that I excel at stalking though, I know he’s in his office, working his sexy ass off, if all the fervent typing I heard through the door was any indication to go by.

  Writing his books.

  The same ones I still haven’t read. I’m the worst friend on earth.

  Well, what better moment to finally tackle that task than right now. After all, I was enthralled by the snippet I read that allowed me to make the costume.

  It’s the least I can do for him.

  After a quick pit stop at the bathroom, and getting some hot chocolate and an apple from the kitchen, I get settled in on the couch with Gabe’s first book of his last fantasy series. All snuggled up tightly in my blanket, I dive right in, pulled in from the first page.

  Knowing he wrote this makes it even better, and before I know it, I’m utterly captivated by this world of warriors, elves, and other mythical creatures Gabe created.

  A soft touch to my cheek pulls me out of my sleep. When I open my eyes slowly, the room is almost completely dark, except for a dimmed light in one of the corners.

  Stretching under the warm blanket, I notice the book isn’t on my lap anymore even though I don’t remember putting it away. Not that I remember falling asleep either.

  When my eyes zoom in on Gabe just a foot away, I startle for a moment and my hand flies to my chest as I try to calm my speeding heart. “Gosh, why on earth are you standing right there in the dark?”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t realize how late it was until I finished writing for the day. When I came to get something to eat, I found you asleep with your nose stuck in my book.”

  I turn around to look out the window. “It looks like it’s way past dinnertime. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  He looks at me with a little, secret smile on his face. “You looked very peaceful and comfy. Seems like my book was boring enough to put you in a good sleep, at least.”

  “What?” I sit up, a strangled laugh escaping my mouth while my mind is still trying to fully wake up. “No, no, no. I love it, I swear. I read for a long time before my eyes got too heavy to stay open. I just wanted to close them for a moment but must have been more exhausted than I thought. I can’t even remember the last time I took a nap. Or more so an extra-early bedtime, I guess.”

  “You’ve been busier than usual the past few weeks. All the working out and dancing, not to mention the bambini now too. They can be quite exhausting.”

  I nod, thinking about all the cute little faces, the paint splatters everywhere, the squeals of joy. It’s been so much fun, filling my heart in a way I didn’t know was possible.

  Regardless of that though, I jump on Gabe’s statement. “They really can be, serving as a good reminder why having kids hasn’t really been on my radar a lot. They are quite a lot of work, and I have to admit, a little crazy too. Can you imagine having someone naughty like Tommy around all day, slapping strangers’ butts?”

  Gabe’s chuckle fills the room. “That little dude is definitely a handful, even Rose said that. And trust me, a statement like that coming from her means a lot.”

  “Sounds like he’s already well-known at the academy.”

  “Probably.”

  I look at him, studying the neutral expression on his handsome face. The mention of his sister brings me back to my earlier thought, and I use the opening to my advantage. “Speaking of Rose, is everything okay with her? You looked a little tense after your conversation.”

  “Oh yeah, all good.” The corners of his mouth lift, showing me my favorite smile.

  But like so often this week, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

  Worry settles deep in my stomach, but I know he won’t tell me what’s going on since I’ve already asked him several times.

  I have to admit it hurts, but I’m not sure what else to do about it, except hope he’ll talk to me about whatever’s bothering him at some point. “Okay.”

  He’s the first to break eye contact, lifting his chin toward the coffee table before his right hand goes to the back of his neck. “So…you and my books, huh?”

  Pushing through the discomfort, I let a chuckle pop out of my mouth. “Yeah, it was long overdue, don’t you think? I feel like a shitty friend for not reading them earlier.”

  Gabe shakes his head. “Don’t. It’s totally fine, really. I’ve learned early on that the books aren’t everyone’s cup of tea. There are a lot of people in my life who haven’t read a single line of anything I’ve written. You get used to it after a while.”

  I’m not sure if he really feels as casual as he pretends to be, or if he’s bothered by it. In a way, I totally understand it though. It’s not like everyone I know has come to see me dance either. It stings at the beginning, but you definitely do get used to it over time.

  His eyes stay on me, roaming over my face, before he gets his phone out of his back pocket. After typing on it for a few moments, a sudden flash of light from the kitchen lets me know he turned on the Bluetooth speaker.

  Before I get a chance to ask him what he’s doing, music starts to fill the room. It’s a song I don’t recognize, but it sounds old—which totally suits Gabe. Even though he’s only in his mid-twenties, Gabe’s an old soul, through and through, his rather eclectic taste of music mostly longing for classic and old-school kind of tunes.

  Putting the phone down on the coffee table, he walks over to me, extending his hand in my direction when he reaches the couch. “Dance with me?”

  I didn’t see that coming.

  Obviously, this offer is a complete no-brainer. I mean, who am I to say no to a dance, especially with this man. For a moment, I wish I wasn’t wearing my ratty leggings and T-shirt combo, but then, Gabe is used to it. And he’s never said a word about my comfy attire, so I don’t think he minds, or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

  Pushing the blanket off my lap, I place my right hand in his, immediately relishing the feel of his warm skin as his fingers gently wrap around mine. He pulls me up without saying a word, leading me over to the open space between the living room and kitchen.

  When he stops and swings me around, I almost smack into his chest.

  I place my free hand loosely around his shoulder while his goes around my waist, eliminating any remaining space between us. Pulling our still-intertwined hands up between our bodies, he rests them against his chest.

  The world suddenly seems to slow down as I look up at him, our faces only a few inches apart. “Hey, you.”

  “Hey.” His voice is raspy and quiet, the air from his breath tickling my cheek as he exhales.

  For once, Gabe doesn’t smile.

  Instead, he studies me with a somber exp
ression, his eyes roaming over my whole face, inch by inch, and my skin prickles under his scrutiny.

  “What is it?” My voice vibrates, tickling the back of my throat as we keep staring at each other, barely moving to the music anymore. To be honest, I’m not even sure if the music is still on, since I can’t focus on much else besides Gabe.

  This man has taken over all of my senses.

  “I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.” His warm breath hits my face again, and I close my eyes for a moment, wanting to savor this closeness. This special moment.

  “I know, me too.” A wave of uneasiness hits me, making my stomach squeeze hard, not easing up even after a few minutes have passed.

  We stay like this for a long time.

  I lose all sense of time, no clue how long we dance, or how many songs we listen to.

  Somewhere along the way, I end up resting my head on his chest. His heart beats so rapidly under my ear, it plays its own kind of music. A song so beautiful, I’ll never be able to forget it.

  My mind wanders off, the last year flashing across my mind like a mini-movie. Even though I’m not overly proud of how I handled life, post-injury, and how long it’s taken me to get where I wanted to be, I can’t say I regret spending all this time with Gabe.

  He’s been my rock since my arrival in Brooksville, my confidant and now, best friend. The man who has made me complete again, catching me when I fell down the rabbit hole, and slowly building me up ever since. Pushing me when I needed it. Challenging me, even when it was at his own expense.

  This man is a miracle and my own personal guardian angel. I always thought of myself as a strong person, but I’m honestly not sure where I’d be without him.

  Even though he’s quiet and a bit nerdy, he’s the strong one out of the two of us, and I think that’s one of the reasons I lo—

  Not only does my mind come to a screeching halt, but also my body.

  Since Gabe didn’t see it come either, he steps on my foot, immediately apologizing.

  I don’t make out anything he says though.

  Where was my brain just going with that thought?