He scooted even closer. “Three years or thirty, this thing between us won’t ever fade. And three ...”
The tiny gap between them closed, until they were sharing the same air. “You like me all up in your space. Some of your most creative moments were when I was all up in your space.”
Hunter was a told-you-so guy. A trait that Mackenzie found annoyingly adorable. Which was why she knew what was coming and told herself to run, not walk, to the nearest exit. Only as Hunter’s lips hovered over hers, pausing to give her ample time to speak up, she found herself moving closer—until they had liftoff.
Hunter took his time, his mouth gently caressing hers in a kiss so hot Mackenzie forgot to breathe. Being hailed America’s Sexiest Man wasn’t enough for him. Nope, in typical Hunter fashion, overachiever that he was, he also had to go for World’s Best Kisser.
And he won.
By the time he lifted his head, Mackenzie’s hands were fisted in his shirt and she was rubbing up against him like he was catnip.
“What was that?” she asked, her lips tingling with aftershocks.
“If you have to ask, I did something wrong.”
Before he could go in for a do-over, which would have ended with her crawling up his body, she took a step back. Only to find that she was still clutching his shirt. She let go. “I thought you didn’t do complicated.”
“I don’t.”
“Then, back to my original question. What was that?”
“That was me simplifying things.” His smile was so big she could hear its smugness. And before she could ask whatthatmeant, he said, “Now, unless you have any more concerns you need me to address—”
“Nope.” She stepped under his arm and out of kissing range. “I’m good.”
In fact, she felt better than she had in months. Being around Hunter was like living life with surround sound on high. Every note full and alive. An emotion that was hard to reach when playing acoustic.
If Mackenzie didn’t find a way to survive outside her bubble, she’d lose Muttley. And she couldn’t survive losing one more thing.
Hunter was right. When they were together, they moved as one. And if anyone could help her navigate her way into the seeing world, it was him.
“Fine. I can give you three weeks.” Surely she could keep it professional for three weeks. To be safe, though, she added, “But there will be rules.”
“I’m listening.”
“Number one.” She held up a finger. “No more kissing.”
“If you say so,” he mused, taking her hand.
“Or that.” She jerked her hand back. “And yes, I say.” She crossed her arms to prove it. “If I agree to this, then you must agree that afterthe three weeks are up, we go our own way and focus on our separate careers.”
“No kissing, no sharing space, and no hand-holding. You have a lot of rules.”
Rules were good. Rules kept people safe.
“I’ll need daily rides to and from the studio,” she said, pausing to gather the courage to state her next condition to their agreement. “And once a week, I’ll need a ride to the community center over by the university.”
A request he clearly wasn’t expecting. His energy softened, and his voice gentled in question. “Community center?”
Mackenzie looked away—a habit left over from before. “They have a support group every other Thursday from five thirty to seven, and I haven’t been in a while.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “It’s hard to navigate the bus system during rush hour, and Arthur can’t take me at night.” Hunter remained quiet for a long moment, and Mackenzie felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. “If it’s too much, you can always drop me off and I can catch an Uber home after.”
“It’s not too much,” he said with a gentleness that turned her chest to mush. “Every other Thursday night from five thirty to seven. Anything else?”
Yes, there was a big something else, but asking him felt as if she were admitting she needed a keeper. Which she most certainly did not. “I may need some help at the market. Muttley and I know how to get there and back without any problem, but once we’re inside, figuring out what aisle carries what can be ... frustrating,” she admitted, then forced a smile. “So do we have a deal?”
