Well Matched (Well Met #3)(48)

“Here I am,” I repeated, trying for a brusque tone, but all the tension inside of me eased now that he was next to me. He was dressed much like he had been last night: jeans and a button-down shirt—light blue this time—his tie already loosened.

Mitch leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, but still looking at me. “How you feeling?” His voice was pitched low, just for me. “Headache?”

That forced a laugh out of me and I shook my head. “A couple glasses of water and some aspirin before bed. All good. Besides.” I gave him a small smile. “I had plenty of bread and cheese in my stomach to soak up the alcohol.”

His smile widened, lighting up his eyes. “You’re welcome.” I rolled my eyes in response, an automatic gesture, but his smile was infectious.

The ceremony began with a speech from the principal, and I leaned toward Mitch. “Are you giving a speech too?”

He snorted, which made Emily glance over her shoulder at us. She took one look at how close our heads were and raised her eyebrows with a small smile. I made a face at her and she turned back around. “Hell, no,” Mitch said, as though he hadn’t noticed Emily. “They leave that to the smart guys like Simon.”

“Hey.” My protest was low but vehement. “You’re a smart guy.” This was too much like that night in the hotel room, with Mitch confessing that his family thought he was nothing more than a mindless jock. I didn’t like that.

“Shhhh,” he said through his smile. “Don’t tell anyone. You have to do more when they think you’re smart.” He nodded down at Simon, shuffling the papers in his hands, clearly preparing for his turn to speak.

“Good point.” We shared a conspiratorial smirk before turning our attention back to the principal, who was still talking. Oh God, this was going to take forever.

Speech finally over, awards were given out next, and to my surprise, when Simon got up to speak, it was because he was presenting an English department award to Caitlin. He’d refused to have her in his Advanced Placement class, for fear of any appearance of favoritism, so it was nice for him to make this gesture now. “I didn’t have the pleasure of having her in my class,” he said, “but nonetheless I couldn’t be more proud to present this award to Caitlin Parker.” Polite applause covered her walk to the podium, and while he presented her with a small plaque the two of them spoke in low tones I couldn’t hear. They shared a smile and then a hug, and I dashed some tears from my cheeks. She spotted us in the audience when she headed back to her seat and grinned in our direction. I waved, Emily clapped, and Mitch sent out a piercing whistle that made me start.

“What?” He grinned at me when I turned to him. “She’s a good kid. I’m proud of her. This is about celebrating the graduates, right?”

“True.” I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted, “Great job, Cait!” A few families around us chuckled, and I tingled all over with adrenaline from yelling in a crowd like that. Instinctively my eyes darted to my right, and just like I suspected, Robert was looking my way. No, he was glaring my way. I hadn’t been on the receiving end of that glare in a long time, but there was still a part of me that shrank at the sight of it.

“That’s him over there, isn’t it?” Mitch kept his smile on his face, like we weren’t talking about my estranged ex.

I nodded. “And he’s pissed. Not only did I make a spectacle of myself just now, but I called her Cait. He hates nicknames.” I hated that I remembered that about him. That brain cell would have been put to better use remembering my high school locker combination.

“Wow. He sounds like more and more fun the more you tell me about him. Have you talked to him yet?” Mitch’s voice was casual, but his eyes were intent, studying my face. When I shook my head, he relaxed a fraction. “Good.” He wrapped an arm around me like it was something he did every day.

“What are you doing?”

“Quid pro quo, babe. You were my girlfriend last weekend. Now it’s my turn.”

“To be my girlfriend?”

“Funny.” His fingers tightened on my shoulder.

“Okay, but . . .” I gave up on trying to get free; honestly I wasn’t trying that hard. Something about his arm around me softened all my sharp edges. He was just so damn comfortable to be around.

But I still tried to protest. “We can’t do this here.”

“Sure we can. We’ve had practice.”

The words were innocent, but my mind went straight to that hotel room. Probably not the practice he meant. But it flustered me all the same. “That was different. This is in front of the whole town. You’re a teacher at my daughter’s high school,” I reminded him.

That only made him take my hand with his free one. “One: Your daughter doesn’t go here anymore. That’s what this whole graduation thing is about. Two: Who cares?”

That was probably the most simplistic argument I’d ever heard, but I couldn’t refute it. Not when his arm around me felt so good and my hand in his made me feel like I could face anything. Or anyone.

The rest of the commencement ceremony passed uneventfully, if slowly, under a June sun that only got hotter as the morning went on. When it was Caitlin’s turn to get her diploma Mitch and I both cheered like fans at a football stadium; all that was missing was face paint and those giant foam fingers. Simon turned in his seat toward us with a raised eyebrow while Emily quaked with laughter, though she clapped as loudly as she could too. She tossed a grin at us over her shoulder once we settled down. I grinned back, amazed at how much fun it was to be loud once in a while.