My eyes flitted to his, ecstatic butterflies dancing around my heart as our gazes swam in a sea of intoxicating emotions.
Of all the descriptive words in the English language,optimistic, content,andrelievedweren’t any I’d expected him to choose. Flabbergasted, disturbed, humiliated—now those were words,feelings, I figured he’d serve stone-faced and unimpressed.
Confused by the heady look in his electric blues, the undeniable heat swirling between us, I yanked my gaze away from his, too afraid of what seemed inevitable.
“Macy,” he murmured, commanding my chin up with the tip of his index finger. “Look at me.”
Oh, how difficult it was to defy the appeal as he inched closer, his chair scraping the linoleum beneath it.
The delicious way he smelled didn’t help—a concoction ofLucas, fabric softener, and mocha from ice cream that had paved the way to this moment. One inch more and we would have been a hair’s breadth apart, our lips coming together in a kiss surpassing those imagined in my wettest dreams.
Still, no matter how much I wanted,achedto feel his full lips pressed to mine, become unraveled in those burly, powerhouse arms, Lucas Stone was involved with a woman I would never measure up to. She had beauty, brains, and most of all, his heart. Harper seemed like a real catch, while I was merely a catch and release.
Panic-stricken, I got to my feet, head shaking as I fled to my bedroom, unwilling to take part in something we’d both regret.
The sound of Lucas’s footsteps masked the drum of my heartbeat as he trailed behind me, and when I reached my bedroom door, he grabbed hold of my elbow, spinning me around to face him.
“Macy, wait.” He killed any space left between us, my back rigid against the bedroom door, the pad of his thumb soft against my cheek. “I need to tell you something.”
I didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to barrel down a road that would lead to absolute devastation—for Harper, for me, for all three of us.
Before he could utter another word, I spoke first, revealing a temporary antidote to bloggergate blues. “I’m leaving for New York in two days.”
9
“So, you let her go?” AJ tossed his towel into the tattered, blue-and-gold gym bag he’d had since freshman year. It’s not like he didn’t have a new one, but that tired old thing, dubbed his lucky bag, got its use the week before any big game.
We were just four days away from our game against the Ducks and had spent an entire two-hour practice leveling up our offensive plays. Oregon had a tight offensive line, and Coach K wanted to make damn sure we didn’t hand them our asses while on our home turf.
Exhausted, I didn’t particularly care to have a conversation that would drag me back to two nights ago—when Macy’s announcement felt more jarring than two swift kicks in the nuts.
“What do you mean,let her go?” I chased a jeer-laced chuckle away with a scoff. “Like Macy needed my permission?”
He flashed a look, shouldering the UCLA locker room doors open, a colder-than-seasonably-normal gust striking us like a monster truck. “Come on, don’t dick around. I meant you let her go all the way to New York with stuff between the two of you left in limbo? You should have at least told her you ended shit with Harper before she left.”
Here we go, another episode of the Advice From AJ show.
“Dude, stop.” I followed him through the open doors. “Macy’s only gonna be in New York for a week. I’ll tell her all about my slutty ex when she gets back.”
News about my breakup could wait. The last thing I wanted was to bomb Macy’s mind space, steal the focus from what mattered. She couldn’t pass up the chance to partake in a week’s long interview for a winter internship atHot Shot. Working for a mainstream magazine had been Macy’s lifelong dream, much like playing pro-football was mine. An opportunity like that didn’t come around more than once. She needed to go—I needed tolet her go—regardless of how much the timing sucked. Her attention had to be one-hundred percent focused.
AJ shook his head as he walked alongside me to the parking lot. “Whatevs, man, do what you want.Don’ttake my advice.” He slung the raggedy bag over his shoulder. “But, I think you’re making a huge mistake.”
I rolled my eyes, irritated that a guy who wouldn’t know advice if it bit him in the dick dished it out like Dear Abby.
Deflecting, I asked, “What about Sage? You let her go all the way to New York single?”
“Hell, no. We got back together two days ago.”
I snickered, feeling the least bit shocked. “Of course you did.”
Once we reached our cars, we spoke about the upcoming game and a History assignment he forgot was due the next day, then we did our bro handshake before slipping into our rides and driving off.
At home, the place seemed eerily quiet with Macy gone. I missed her gorgeous, always-smiling face, hearing her hiccup after a fit of laughter, and even the mess she’d leave on the kitchen counter after preparing us an impromptu meal.
Although admitting so made me heave, AJ couldn’t have been more right. I should’ve told Macy what went down with Harper. Likewise, maybe I shouldn’t have allowed her to leave without divulging my feelings, without coming clean about how I’d spent years reprimanding my cock for reacting to the sound of her voice, without telling her those confessions mirrored my own sentiments. Yet, that face-slapping news she spat out shook me, turning a moment destined to be our first lip-and-tongue soiree into nothing more than talk about her once-in-a-lifetime interview. Days that followed were spent helping her get packed and organized for the last-minute trip—which included a first-class plane ticket and a suite at the acclaimed Plaza Hotel—all funded by the popular magazine.Hot Shot’soffer had almost expired, and according to Macy, the team of recruiters was eager to have Sage, Chloe, and her join the rest of the group of potential interns at the week-long event.
After a shower, I slipped into sweatpants, ordered pizza, then scrolled through the UCChat app, my lips curving up when I spotted a pic that Macy posted featuring her, Sage, and Chloe in front of their Times Square hotel.
