CHAPTER 6
“Are you shitting me?” Mackenzie said and stepped back, right out of Hunter’s embrace and—whoa, what was up with the you’re-such-an-asshole glare she shot his way? “You just used a line from my own song to butter me up.”
“I did not.” Hunter quickly ran through every song of his and ... “Nope. I didn’t.”
“Yes. You did. The line is from ‘Wasting Time.’ Which I wrote.” She rattled off the singer’s name, a nine-time GRAMMY winner, as if talking about the lady who did her hair.
“You wrote that song? Never mind, of course you did.” He felt like an idiot for not recognizing her sound before. Mackenzie had a way with words that was exquisitely unique and undeniably hers.
“And the move you did there? I’ve got a song for that too. It’s titled ‘Good Luck with That.’”
He laughed. “What move?”
“That one.” She waved an unimpressed hand at his chest. “It was straight from your playbook, used to charm the ladies. I’ve seen you do it a thousand times.”
“There was no move and no ulterior motive. It was a hug.”
“It was a move. Not to get laid or for a kiss on the southern region of your body,” she said and didn’t even crack a smile. “But to get me to agree to cowrite your album.”
Okay, so maybe that was in the back of his mind. And sure, putting his hands on Mackenzie had been a serious lack of judgment. But he’d hugged her because she looked vulnerable, and lost, and like she could really use a friend right then.
Too bad none of his other friends were as soft and silky as she was. And he sure as hell didn’t hug them until he could feel what kind of underwear they had on. Hell, his fingers had been inches from her ass. And her breasts, the ones he’d stopped paying attention to the second she became a band member, had been crushed up against him and—
Holy shit, he’d put the moves on her.
On Mackenzie, his artistic other half, who he’d spent a good five years putting in the friend zone because he never mixed business with pleasure—especially when that bandmate was also like family.
Mackenzie Hart, the sassy Georgia peach with the saddest fucking eyes on the planet, deserved more than a cheap line from a guy who could only go the distance if it was in a tour bus. “Move unintentional. And I’m not interested in talking about my album right now.”
She skewered him with a look that—damn—if he hadn’t seen her stumble earlier, he would never have known she was blind.
“I’m serious, I came here to see Caroline. And yes, I came to see you.” He lowered his voice. “You look good, Trouble. I’ve missed you.”
He’d missed her so much that the first few months after his honeymoon he’d found it impossible to breathe. He’d missed making music with her, missed that she got him—totally and completely. Most of all, he’d missed her laugh.
It took a lot to get her to let loose, a lasting effect from losing everyone she loved so young. Which was why when she did and that laugh of hers came out, sweet and care-free, it was like music for his soul.
Too bad she looked as if she hadn’t laughed much as of late. Something he found himself desperately wanting to fix.
“The person you miss doesn’t exist anymore,” she said quietly, those mossy-green eyes locking on his, and a squirrelly feeling settled in his gut. “I’m not that girl anymore. And I won’t ever be her again.”
And wasn’t that a damn shame, because the girl he’d known was remarkable. A survivor who had finally started to find her own strength, to discover all the things that made her so damn special. He’d hate to think that she’d come so far in the years following her mama’s death only to retreat back inside herself.
“I’m not asking you to be anything more than who you are. I just want the chance to get to know you again.” He wanted to see her thriving and living a full life, out from beneath the anger and the shadows. According to Brody, she barely even ventured out of her house.
“And what if you don’t like the new me?” she asked, andman oh man, this lady knew how to break a guy’s heart.
“Liking you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” he said, and her gaze dropped to his chest. “I’m more afraid thatIwon’t live up to the hype.”
Hadley had told him he had problems opening up to anyone other than his guitar, and the only distance he’d covered during their brief marriage had been from the bunk of a tour bus. When it came to personal relationships with women, he was a one-hit wonder. But Mackenzie was back, right next to him, and he wasn’t about to let her slip away.
Not this time.
He’d never really known his mother, and he didn’t know how to do long-term with the female population. Just look at his disaster of a marriage.
Nope, Mackenzie had been the only constant woman in his life, and he’d naively believed she’d be that constant for him forever. Because whatever this thing was between them, it went beyond the surface, beyond the physical, and beyond all the BS that typically complicated relationships. Mackenzie was like family to him.
Sad thing was, just like his dad, she’d walked away too.
