I must've been underwater for only a few seconds before I broke the surface and took in a gasp of air; Mitchell didn't let go of me even once for the few seconds we were under the water. I blinked water out of my eyes and pushed back the few strands of hair that escaped my braid backward and took in another breath before my eyes met the blue in Mitchell's.

He was as drenched as me, his hair slicked back and his shirt clung to him like a second skin, his hands were wrapped around me and he wore a look of dismay and – if I wasn't wrong – concern.

The water was relatively warm, a big upgrade from the last time I was in the water with him. Everything around was still and other than the soft sound of the flowing water mixed with our breathing, there was no sound. My body was a mere few inches away from being flat against Mitchell's and I couldn't help but lower my eyes, over his exposed chest down to the now see-through shirt that gave no mystery to how in shape he still was.

His chest rose and sunk as he breathed and my breathing was in sync with his, I swallowed, despite not liking our proximity, my body wanted to move closer. I told myself I needed to stop checking him out before he got smug about it, so my eyes slowly moved back upwards.

Unfortunately, we were still attached by a single thread so I couldn't get out without him, I huffed in annoyance and glared at him while he just stared at me.

"Don't do that," Mitchell scolded, "As if this was my fault."

I narrowed my eyes, "Are you implying that it's my fault?"

"Of course, it is," He replied immediately, "I told you to be still, but you wanted to act like a five-year-old with ants in their pants!"

"Only because you refused to let me go!" I retorted.

"It's not like I had a choice in the matter!" He defended himself.

"Oh," I mused with a raised brow, "So you're saying you don't want to touch me?"

"No," Was his immediate response but he caught onto my words and frowned, "Yes... no...I..." He paused and looked at me obscurely, "Huh?"

I purposely asked that to mess with his mind and watching Mitchell get worked up, confused and flustered was still as fun as I could remember.

"Don't strain your already compromised brain," I sighed and looked down at the thread between us, "I just want to be detached."

"Is it that bad being attached to me?" He lightly asked, probably attempting to joke.

I stared at him for a moment before seriously saying, "Almost painful."

He didn't respond and I wondered if he caught onto how serious I was but knowing him, he probably thought I was being snarky.

"Ouch," He finally spoke.

"You don't get to say that," I stated.

"And you don't get to comment about what you know nothing of," He retorted with a slight edge to his tone.

"Oh yeah," I challenged, "Then enlighten me."

We had a stare off and I could feel the anger I held onto slowly start to bubble inside of me, I kept it dormant for so long that I was under the impression it was gone. However, looking at Mitchell at that moment reminded me that I never let go of how much he hurt me.

His hard gaze softened, and he exhaled, shaking his head he glanced at the thread that joined us, "May I?"

I scoffed under my breath and was pissed at him for not answering my questions, it only proved that he had no answer because he was wrong and nothing he could say or do would ever fix the relationship we shared.

"No," I insisted, "I got it."

Mitchell deeply sighed, "Despite being Dr. Bandera now, why do you still act like a kid?"

"A title isn't going to change who I am," I replied and that was when it hit me, he knew I completed my MD, for someone who wanted nothing to do with me he was quite informed.

"How do you know I have that title?" I curiously questioned.

He avoided eye-contact and stuttered for a moment before saying, "I did the math, it's not hard to know you're done with med school and Owen mentioned that Faith completed hers and since you two were in the same year, I figured."

I didn't buy his answer and the way he blabbed made it more suspicious, "I was set back a few months," I pointed out, "So, it doesn't necessarily mean I'm graduating with my class."

That struck a nerve because he tensed and looked at me guiltily, I supposed he felt some remorse about leaving but I didn't understand why he didn't mention anything about it once. Heck, I didn't even get an apology, it was like he erased that part of his memory clean.

"So," Typically he paid no heed to my reference about the accident, "You're not Dr. Bandera?"

I shook my head, "No," I answered flatly, "I'm Dr. Brinson."

He pursed his lips, and I didn't miss the second he tightened his jaw before murmuring under his breath, "Right, Brinson."

I raised a brow, "Do you have an issue against my last name, Clarke?"

He met my gaze once more and shook his head with a small grin, "Of course not," He said, "I just prefer Bandera."

"Mila Bandera was the girl I met, and things were a lot less... complicated when you were a simple girl from Queens."

"I'm still that girl," I pointed out, slightly offended at his choice of words.

"Are you really?" He asked, "Because I see a very different girl. For the first time I see," He paused and swallowed, almost as if he had a bitter taste in his mouth, "I see Damien Brinson's daughter – strong, determined, resolute, confident, proud, and even a little cold and arrogant."

"You look nothing less than heir to the Brinson Empire," He concluded, and I wasn't sure if he was complimenting or insulting me, "He must be proud of the woman you are becoming."

"He is proud and so am I," I confidently told him, "But why do I get the impression you're insulting me?"

"I'm not," He replied, "When life broke you, you picked up the pieces and rebuilt yourself– you have a lot to be proud of."

"But," He sheepishly added, "I still prefer Dr. Bandera."

"The person I am today isn't because of my father or a last name," I clarified, "Life has knocked me down many times and I decided to get up and fight back instead of staying down and allowing every bad thing that has ever happened to crumble me."

"So, yes, I am stronger, more confident, and all those things you referred to me as," I haughtily responded, "And I am not going to apologize for that."

"Circumstances and how I chose to handle them made me the woman you are looking at today," I concluded, "So you can prefer Bandera or Brinson, I really don't care because a name doesn't define who I am."

Mitchell remained silent, his lips were pursed, and his eyes shone in the moonlight, if I wasn't mistaken, he appeared to be... impressed.

"Well," He broke the silence and removed one hand that was around me and ran it through his hair, pushing it all back, "I know it probably means nothing to you, but I am proud of you too."

Even though he removed the place he once had in my life, the sincerity in his tone and the honesty in his eyes touched a little something in me.

"You were witness to the hardest time in my life so," I paused and offered half a grin, "Thanks."

He returned my grin with one of his and as much as I wanted it to be awkward, the brief silence was comfortable – almost as if Mitchell and I were still friends and we were just having a normal conversation.

I blinked away my reverie and stopped staring at him, instead I looked at the thread between us, "Let's get rid of you."

"Do you have to?" He asked softly.

My eyes met his once more and there wasn't a sign of sarcasm or joking, he looked dead straight at me.

"I can't be tied to you forever," I replied casually even though my heart was not beating at a casual pace.

"Faith and Owen are about to," He responded in the same tone.

"They're getting married," I pointed out, "This isn't the same thing."

He stared at me for a long moment, and I frowned, Mitchell was speaking in way too many riddles and his eyes spoke more than his mouth – I wished he would just be upfront about what he wanted to say.

"What are you implying?" I couldn't help but ask.

He shook his head and forced a smile to change the mood, "Certainly not what you just thought."

"What do you think I was thinking?" I countered.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" He raised a brow.

Did I? Probably not because the more I dwelled on his words the more I was going to get sucked into the spell he once cast over me and it took a very long time to get over him; I refused to get hurt by Mitchell again, so my answer was no.

"No," I shook my head.

"Thought as much," He said before adding with bitterness in his tone, "Besides I doubt Daddy Brinson would be happy seeing you tied to me."

This was the second time he sounded so bitter when it came to my dad, I knew they weren't friendly, but Mitchell wasn't exactly hostile towards him unless I was missing something.

"Do you have a problem with my father?" I asked with a frown.

"A problem?" He shook his head, "No."

"Why the hostility?" I asked curiously.

Mitchell stared at me for a long moment, and he clenched his jaw before he let out a breath and attempted a smile, "I'm Mitchell Clarke, there was hostility even before I existed."

I wasn't buying his answer, "I don't think that's the real issue here."

Mitchell sighed and looked slightly irritable, "For someone who was fighting me about being too close, you sure are prolonging this moment."

I realized he was correct, there was no point in trying to make excuses for Mitchell besides I saw no way my dad and Mitchell could personally be connected. I figured Mitchell was bitter because of how my dad most likely lashed out at him for the accident – if there was something else, I was certain my dad would tell me, and Mitchell surely would.

"If," I paused, "If there was something...anything at all," I looked at him seriously, "You'd tell me, right?"

"What could there possibly be?" He nonchalantly asked, "You know everything, and I don't see a point in pondering over the past," His eyes appeared... cold, "Nothing can be changed by going through history."

"Right," I mumbled.

Mitchell's tone reminded me of how cold he was on the last phone call I had with him; I couldn't believe I let myself believe that we were still M&M because the truth was, he never felt the same way for me as I did for him.

Pushing aside baseless thoughts, I lifted my hands from under the water, and kicking my legs to keep me afloat, I reached for the string that was attached to my necklace.

There was quite a knot around the diamond, and I didn't understand how it got so tangled from bumping into him for only a few seconds – it was almost as if someone was playing some sick joke on us.

"Good thing I taught you how to swim, eh?" Mitchell asked after a moment of silence.

"Only half-taught," I clarified with my eyes firmly on the string. It was a little difficult not to look at Mitchell's chest that was right in front of me, I could feel his breath on my face and the view of his chiseled chest was a little distracting.

"Of course," Mitchell murmured, "Leo picked up where I left off."

I paused what I was doing and slowly lifted my lids to meet his gaze, he was staring intensely down at me, his lips were slightly parted and water droplets were falling from his hair down his forehead, over his cheek down to the corner of his lips and then picked up pace and fell from his jaw to the side of his neck.

"Are," I paused for a second and found his gaze once more, "Are we still talking about swimming?"

He swallowed and his pupils dilated as he looked at me, I couldn't read his eyes but right at that moment, even though he was physically with me, but his mind appeared to be somewhere far away.

I felt his hands grip onto my hips tighter and he nudged me closer, I had the urge to push him away, but I couldn't for some reason – it felt as if logic was slowly leaving.

"You tell me," He softly replied.

"I don't like riddles," I countered, keeping my tone as low as his, "If you want to know something, just ask."

"Do I have a right to ask?" He questioned.

"Of course, you have a right to ask," I replied, "But whether I answer or not is entirely up to me."

He seemed amused and his eyes dropped from mine and examined every inch of my face and then further down to the parts of me that were above the water before he met my gaze once more.

"Forgive me if I'm inappropriate, blame it on the one too many whiskey's I had if you must," He paused and swallowed, "But if you think all that sass is pushing me away, you're wrong."

He pulled me even closer, so close I could now feel his body heat against me, his wet shirt lightly brushed against my chest and he lowered his face and brought his lips to my ears, "Just like before, it only turns me on."

That was bold for Mitchell, so much so that I wasn't sure what to make of his statement, it had to be the whiskey talking because Mitchell would never admit to something like that in his right mind... not after my accident at least.

I didn't know if I was complimented, amused, or annoyed at what he just said, I supposed a part of me was amused because talking to him like this felt so natural but there was that constant reminder that things weren't normal, and I held so much of anger towards him that I couldn't be myself.

"Ew!" I scrunched my face even though I felt my cheeks warm, "Take your shrimp for a swim elsewhere, this is a no-swim zone for you."

Mitchell pursed his lips, but I could see he wanted to laugh, it was the first time he found me taking a pick at his manhood humorous, so I thought it odd.

"I missed that smartass mouth," He said with a smile.

This time I couldn't stop the smile from forming on my face, it was the first time he mentioned missing me and as much as I wanted to shut it down, I couldn't.

"I give up!" I threw my hands in the air, "This seems to be knotted by the devil."

Mitchell seemed amused by my frustration, "Why don't you put that mouth to good use."

I shot my eyes up at him, "Excuse me?"

When he realized how bad that sounded, he quickly shook his head, "I mean... break the thread with your teeth."

"I would but if I had to go down..." His eyes fell on my chest, "I don't think it would be highly appropriate."

"Unless you want me to," He quickly added, "Because I don't mind."

He was full-on blabbing and I rolled my eyes, "Just be quiet, Bit-"

I abruptly cut myself off when I realized I was getting way too comfortable with him, that nickname was first used to piss him off and then it turned into a form of endearment; things were way too different to fall back into old habits.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked.

I didn't look up because I knew he was staring at me with that longing look in his eyes, so instead, I ignored his question and brought my lips to the string. I was very close to Mitchell's chest; my head was a mere inch away from touching his exposed skin.

I ignored the feeling I got when my eyes took in every inch of his exposed skin and instead focused on the thread, I gripped the string with my teeth and pulled, effortlessly ripping it, setting me free from him.

"Finally," I breathed glad that the stupid thread was finally broken.

"That hurt," He feigned offense, "I was enjoying... this."

"Speak for yourself," I scoffed.

"You can lie to yourself, but you can't lie to me," He smirked, "You enjoyed at least seventy-percent of this."

"If you ever intend on taking your little guy for a swim again, I suggest you stop pissing me off with your assumptions." I countered with a scowl.

Mitchell chuckled, both of his dimples were on display and it seemed that he was laughing like that after a long time.

"How do we always find ourselves in such... predicaments?" He asked with a grin.

"I don't know," I sighed, "It hasn't even been forty-eight hours since we've been here, and you've already gotten me –"

"Wet?" He cut me off and I was left dumbstruck for a few seconds, I was not expecting to hear that, and it was certainly not what I was about to say.

He looked pretty smug and it annoyed me, Mitchell was pushing his luck, but he seemed to forget who he was messing with.

"Not what I was going to say," I mused, "But yeah, getting me in the water is the only way you can get me wet."

"But that's what I meant," He innocently retorted, "We've found ourselves in the water... again," He raised a brow, "Where did your mind go?"

I rolled my eyes, "Somewhere you'd only be able to reach in your dreams."

"Hey," He chuckled, "You have to admit thinking about the many embarrassing and awkward moments is pretty funny."

He had a point, if I played back the many times we pissed each other off in the most bizarre ways possible, it would fit well for a comedy.

"It depends," I drawled, "Pranking you with Legos and ice in your pants was funny."

"Oh, and the time I hammered your balls!" I added with a laugh.

He scowled at me, but I could tell he wanted to laugh too, "What about the time you freaked out over a rubber snake?"

"Oh, and when I left you in the middle of the highway because you wouldn't shut up?" This time it was my turn to scowl, and he laughed.

I slapped his arm, "I could've gotten kidnapped!"

"Trust me," He said between laughter, "I would've given the kidnapper two minutes before he kicked you out of the car."

"Maybe he would've actually enjoyed my good company," I bitterly retorted.

"Okay, I'll admit, you were good company sometimes," He couldn't stop smiling, "I mean you were the first girl who ever insisted on watching porn in front of me."

I recalled watching a rather risqué movie and Mitchell was embarrassed while I was busy checking out the hot actor.

"It wasn't porn," I pointed out, "But you could've learned a thing or two from that movie."

He smirked down at me, "I do not need any lessons when it comes to pleasing a woman."

"Talk is cheap," I tutted.

He ran his tongue over his lips, and I felt his hands slowly move up from my waist when he said, "You know this mouth can do more than just talk."

That statement caught me off guard and immediately my mind went back to the last time I was in the ocean with Mitchell, clothes drenched and alone in his bedroom. In a matter of seconds, I recalled how he touched and kissed me, I could still feel his fingertips on my skin and his lips...

But that was probably the last time Mitchell and I were in a good space, after that everything went downhill and fast. I was so lost in laughing with Mitchell that I momentarily forgot all about the reality of us, I wished it didn't turn out that way, but it did, and reminiscing about it still hurt.

I squirmed out of his hold and his smile dropped, it seemed he got lost in the moment too and forgot about the last year and a half. He appeared reluctant but he slowly let go of me and all contact was lost, sadness crept into my heart thinking about how different things would've been if Mitchell had only made different choices back then.

"We should get back inside," I mumbled.

Mitchell didn't respond but as I was