Desperate Chances by A. Meredith Walters Read Free Book Online

bottle of water. I should be used to Vivian’s lack of boundaries by now. I had been living with her in some capacity since I was a sophomore in college. She was the woman who thought nothing of pulling her boobs out at Mardi Gras or letting her boyfriend give her a pelvic exam in public.
    It had always been a source of good-natured ribbing. We all laughed about it because it was “just Viv.” But it used to more bearable because I had someone to endure it with.
    “She’s so loud!” I whined, lying back on the bed, propping my feet up on the wall that separated my bedroom from Vivian’s.
    I could hear her moans and groans as clearly as though she was next to me. She and Cole were in the middle of a two day sexathon. He and the guys were home for a few weeks in between shows and I hadn’t seen much of either my roommate or her boyfriend since he had arrived.
    “I can hear her! She really does have one hell of a set of lungs,” Mitch said, his voice through the phone doing nothing to drown out the noises coming from the next room.
    There was a crash and the wall beneath my feet shook. Then Cole began shouting profanities in between grunts.
    “I know that battle cry well. I think it might be time for you to make your exit, G. Things are about to get ugly,” Mitch laughed.
    “Christ, the neighbors are going to call the police thinking someone is being murdered.”
    “Come over here. You can hang out with me until they’re done,” Mitch suggested.
    “What if they don’t stop?” I asked just as the wall shook again from another crash. What were they doing in there?
    Scratch that. I really didn’t want to know.
    “Then you’ll just have to stay here forever,” Mitch suggested.
    “You’ll get sick of me. And I’m a bed hog,” I warned good-naturedly, feeling strangely uncomfortable with the turn in the conversation. Sometimes Mitch could say things that felt…different.
    We were friends. The best of friends. Why would I feel weird with him?
    I was being ridiculous.
    “I’m okay with that, Gracie. You can take up all the room and I’ll be happy just because you’re here. Everything I have is yours, you know that,” he said softly, a strange note in his voice.
    I chuckled nervously needing to diffuse the tension. Why was there tension?
    “Does that include the Chunky Monkey that I know you keep in the freezer?” I joked.
    Mitch cleared his throat. “There are limits, G. Don’t push your luck.”
    I was relieved that the moment was over.
    We were just Mitch and Gracie again.
    Mitch and Gracie.
    Best buddies.
    “But given your obvious emotional stress, I may make an exception,” he added.
    I grabbed my keys and my purse. “I’m on my way. Have the spoons ready.”
    Eventually Chunky Monkey became our code word. Whether I needed a quick rescue from the Cole and Vivian sex show or I just wanted to talk, I’d text Mitch the words Chunky Monkey and he’d either call or show up at my door.
    No questions.
    He was just there.
    Then we’d spend the evening watching movies or playing video games. Or if he was on the road, he’d drop whatever he was doing and talk to me for hours about anything and everything.
    After I had given up alcohol, Mitch Abrams had been the only escape I had needed. When the urge to get drunk consumed me, I had his sweet voice on the other end of the phone to remind me I could get through it.
    My heart ached. I missed Mitch. Sometimes so much that it was like a physical pain. As if on cue Vivian’s moans filled the apartment and I rolled my eyes.
    Without thinking I pulled out my phone and typed out a quick text.
    I could really use some Chunky Monkey right about now.
    I hit send before I could talk myself out of it.
    And then I spent the next twenty minutes staring at the dark screen willing it to light up with an incoming message.
    But it never came.
    My phone remained silent.
    Just as I knew it would.
    I expected it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t feel like a knife right