Mackie . . . God, I need to let him go to Blizzard before then, if that’s what he wants. He’ll have a future there, and a coach who will stay with him until the end. Maybe it’s for the best.
The idea of not seeing his face when I walk in this garage every morning, however, rips me to pieces.
It was all I allowed myself . . . and it’s gone.
He might as well have killed me before my brain did.
When Mackie arrives for work, I find myself sneaking from my office to see him, and I consider confronting him about Blizzard. How did they even get in contact? Is he serious?
Their new manager is a ballbuster, but she’s good. Given the rightdrivers, they could even rank next to us, and Mackie would help her get there. It’s a good opportunity for them both, but the thought fills me with dread.
This garage isn’t home without him.
I watch him flit between staff, his laughter echoing. His smile is so bright it must hurt. He’s sunshine, always has been, but I’ve missed that. I took it away. He barely smiled anymore, but today, it’s like he’s back to his old self, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
His head lifts like he feels my gaze, and his bright, unchecked smile fades as he looks at me. His eyes lose their spark. I hate that he looks so unhappy and unsure when he sees me, so I dive back into my office and hide there instead.
If Mackie wants to go to Blizzard, I will let him, but I won’t help him make that decision either.
By the time the garage empties that night, I haven’t done any work, just stared at my blank screen and tried to imagine my life and this garage without Mackie. Grabbing my shit, I head out, hoping the drive will clear my mind, but it doesn’t do the trick, so when I stumble into my house, I grab a bottle from the top shelf and don’t bother with a glass.
I don’t usually drink. I don’t like the way it effects my fucked-up brain, but tonight calls for it. These thoughts won’t stop. Heading outside, I pull my jeans up and dangle my feet in the pool as I take a long sip from the bottle, remembering last summer when we had a family BBQ and Mackie played in the pool all day. He looked so happy and at home here. It was one of the best days of my life.
Now, there won’t be any more moments like that. Even if he chooses to stay, our relationship has changed. When he looks at me, there’s a barrier now.
Drawing in a breath sends agony rocketing through my chest, and I struggle to breathe. It’s like my lungs can’t expand enough, and when I try to force them to, the ache only spreads further.
Downing another big drink, I try to ignore the pain as I focus on the blue water and lights shining within.
I made this decision to protect him, but it hurts so much, and the idea of losing him forever has me spiraling. I thought I could handle it, but after looking into his miserable, dead eyes today, I’m starting to think Skylar is right.
The only people I’m hurting are Mackie and myself.
Taking another swig, I lean back and look up at the sky, wondering what he’s doing right now. I used to tell myself I stayed away because he was so young. I’ll admit he was beautiful when I first met him, but he was so green. Then, we got closer as I taught him, and I ignored it until I couldn’t anymore. I never meant to fall in love with him, but as I look up at the sky we used to watch together when he’d crash here after working late, I realize I don’t regret it.
He made my life less lonely.
In my world, where people only come to me for what they can gain, he didn’t want anything. I want to protect him, care for him, and cherish his innocence, but knowing I might be responsible for breaking that . . .
I squeeze my eyes shut and take another drink, trying to drown it out.
What the hell am I going to do?
TWENTY-FOUR
I’ve given myself one week to decide if I’m going to leave Starfire or not.
I throw myself into work, trying to remember why I fell in love with this garage and not just its owner. I want to give it my all, so when I make my decision, I know I’ve made the right choice and will have no regrets. I’m taking control of my life and carving out my future and what it looks like without Noah.
Sky keeps watching me, but he never brings it up, which I’m grateful for, even if I know he’s concerned.
He pops more food onto my plate as we crowd around one of the small tables. Bones is at his side, on a break from classes, and Alek and Evan are here too, stuffing their faces.
“I heard you and Conan are getting close,” Alek teases, wiggling his eyebrows, and I glare at Evan, who simply smiles and ducks his head.
“Sorry, I’ve just never seen Conan look so happy. He was actually whistling this morning. It’s cute.” My heart melts, and I can’t contain my smile as I look down at my food.
“He’s a good guy,” I admit. “I like him.”
