Page 17

Rev shakes her head. “She knows we’re here. If she wants us, she’ll come out.”

I’m taking another sip of tea, wrinkling my nose at the strange sensation of drinking lavender, when a thunderous banging on the door downstairs makes us both leap to our feet.

Tea sloshes onto my hand, but I barely feel it even though the skin pinks beneath the droplets.

“Wait here.” Rev puts down her tea and hurries to the door. She closes it behind her, and I hear her footsteps trot quickly down into the stairwell. Then I hear, “Mack? What the—”

I remain seated, my heart quickening in my chest as heavier footsteps approach. The door swings open, and the sight it exposes would almost be funny under different circumstances.

Butt naked, Mack stands in the doorway with his hands on his hips. I scan his body appreciatively and laugh despite the ache that now lives rent-free in my chest. “Morning, Professor.” I raise my eyebrows at him.

“You disappeared,” he says, striding over to me.

It’s hard to keep my eyes on his face, but when he crouches in front of me and I see worry etched into the corners of his deep brown eyes, I set my mug down on the windowsill and cup his face. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

Pressing his lips to mine, Mack steals a hungry kiss. He sweeps my hair from my neck and kisses the spot just below my ear. “Don’t run away again, Nova. Please. Not now. It’s too dangerous.”

I’m staring into his eyes when the sound of Rev clearing her throat makes me look up. Eyebrows twitching, she gestures to Mack’s butt, waving her hand at him as if she should be shielding her eyes. “Not a flattering angle, Mack,” she says, looking away.

Without even a glimmer of embarrassment, Mack stands up. I’m about to pass him the blanket from my shoulders when Rev shakes her head.

“Oh no,” she says. “That was my mother’s blanket. It’s not going anywhere near your man parts. Wait there.”

As she disappears back downstairs, Mack perches on the edge of the chair. I’m used to his nakedness by now, but it still surprises me how at ease he is with being completely exposed. I rest a hand on his thigh, allowing myself to enjoy the sensation of his warm skin and wiry leg hair beneath my palm—not too hairy, just the right amount.

“Are you alright?” he asks, lacing his fingers with mine.

“I’m fine,” I tell him, trying to smile. “I just had to see Sarah. I had to tell her what happened.”

Mack nods slowly. Stroking my chin, he tips my head up and kisses me again. When he stops, he presses his forehead to mine and says, “What Luther did with the flames…it’s dangerous, Nova. He can control his fire. He knew what he was doing, but—”

“You’re worried I’ll let someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing torture me with fire?” I tilt my head and frown at him. “The five of you are the only ones I’d ever—” I stop, aware of how ridiculous it would have sounded just a few weeks ago if I’d heard myself saying I was exclusive to five guys, not just one.

Mack blinks at me. I wonder if he’s about to correct me—tell me there’s no longer five of them because Sam is gone—but he doesn’t. “Actually,” he says softly, “I was worried you’d try playing with Luther and end up burning something delicate.”

“Nothing about Luther is delicate,” I quip.

For a long stretching moment, everything feels remarkably normal. Mack is deliciously naked, we’re making fun of Luther, and he’s leaning in to kiss me. Then out of nowhere, my chest tightens. I rub it with my palm and close my eyes, willing the sensation to subside.

“It’ll take time,” Mack says gently. “A long time. Some moments, you’ll forget. You’ll feel normal. Then you’ll hate yourself for feeling normal.” He slips his arm around me and I stand up, allowing him to move into the chair and slide me onto his lap. “Just don’t shut everyone out like I did. I can’t afford to wait thirty years for you to open yourself up again.”

I stroke his beard with my index finger. I’m about to loop my arms around his neck and nuzzle into him when Rev appears in the doorway and snaps, “Rohne Mackenzie, get your naked ass out of my favorite armchair.”

Chuckling, Mack stands up and catches the clothes Rev tosses to him. “Lucky for you, I started stocking men’s wear a while back.”

Mack holds up a pair of skinny black jeans and a matching black t-shirt. “These are more Kole’s style than mine,” he says, but stops talking when Rev hurls a black pair of boxers and a teal sweater at him too.

“Stop complaining and for the moon’s sake get dressed.” Rev is trying not to laugh.

As Mack moves toward what I assume is the bathroom, he wiggles his eyebrows at me. “She’s only asking me to get dressed because she’s worried she won’t be able to control herself around my god-like form much longer.”

I giggle and pull the blanket up closer to my chin. It still feels wrong to laugh, but the sparkle of hope—the one that ignited in my belly when Rev told me it was possible for Sam to still be alive—is easing the conflict.

“I’ll make you some tea,” Rev calls, placing the kettle back on the stove. Then to me, she says, “He knows what you’re going through. He can help you. If you let him.”

I breathe in deeply. “Perhaps I won’t need to.” I meet her eyes across the room. “If we bring Sam back, I won’t need to go through anything.”

Rev opens her mouth to reply, then changes her mind. Without saying anything, she turns back to the kettle and watches it until it boils.