MacKenzie: I thought it was an anomaly, but you do it every time. You actually smile in your sleep.
Then a picture attachment came through. It was of me. My eyes were closed, and my head was on my pillow. She’d snapped the photo from beside me in bed, and, true to her word, my lips were tilted up even as I slept soundly.
MacKenzie: Does your friendliness know no bounds? Are you charming folks in your dreams, Mr. Popular?
Me: I can’t help I’m charming, Big Mac.
MacKenzie: You know who else is charming? Cult leaders.
I snorted a laugh.
If she thought her teasing was going to bother me, she’d played this one all wrong. The woman who didn’t do long-term and couldn’t figure out her feelings had taken a picture of me sleeping. I was ignoring the part where she’d snapped the photo as she snuck out of my apartment. But despite that, something had compelled her to stop before she left. Maybe she had been amused by the fact that I was smiling in my sleep. But maybe she sat there staring for a while. Thinking. Feeling. Maybe the impulse to take a sneaky picture had been motivated by something more than the casual hookup vibes she put off.
Either way, I liked knowing she had that image of me on her phone. I liked even more that she knew what I looked like when I slept. How it brought me peace to wrap my arms around her and hold her close. To have her warm cinnamon-sugar scent linger on my pillow.
Me: If you think you’re giving me shit right now, you are sorely mistaken. You paparazzi’d me in my sleep, Clark. Why are you so obsessed with me?
MacKenzie: Omg. The ego on you.
Me: Is that what we’re calling it?
MacKenzie: LOL
MacKenzie: Besides, this coming from the guy who basically has my name tattooed on his ass. Talk about obsessed.
I snorted again. If she only knew.
Then I typed out,Oh, I just really like burgers. Did you think that was in some way related to you?
MacKenzie: Nice try.
Me: Wait, did you save this picture of me so you could make another voodoo doll?
MacKenzie: God, that was such a good prank.
Me: Fifteen-year-old Mac was creative. Is that why my knee hurts sometimes?
MacKenzie: Yes. I think I left the pin in your leg, wherever that doll ended up.
Me: Well, if you could track it down, that would be great.
“What are you smiling about?”
Abby’s voice made me blink. I glanced over to find my friend perched on the weight bench, staring at me. It was an effort, but I forced myself to stow my phone and focus on the workout we were in the middle of.
“Nothing,” I said and then swallowed down the uncomfortable feeling of lying to my oldest friend.
Abby’s dark eyes narrowed. “Come spot me.”
“Sure.”
Moments later, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and fought all my instincts to check it, instead keeping my attention on Abby and the bar’s steady progress up and down over his chest.
Abby blew out a breath after the final rep and said, “You’re being weird. What’s going on?”
The urge to tell him about Mac was admittedly strong, but it had been my idea to keep things a secret, and I needed to stick to that. It would be safer in the long run.
Plus, I already knew how Abby felt about Mac and me. He’d be excited and supportive until he found out about the casual, secretive aspect of our relationship. Then he’d worry that I was going to get my heart broken.
