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I shrug. “Define okay.”
He comes closer and stands in front of me, placing his hands in his pockets. “Trouble in paradise?”
“You could say that.” It’s probably not something I should talk to him about, but this is Colton. Word vomit comes naturally with him. “He promised me the whole summer just the two of us, then today he goes and enrolls in summer courses without telling me.”
“Well, that’s messed up.”
“You’re telling me.” I look at the starry night sky as my eyes tear up. “Is there something wrong with me? Is that why he’d rather take classes than spend time together?”
Within seconds, Colton steps closer and pulls me into his chest, rubbing my back soothingly. “No, McKenna. You’re perfect.”
“If I was perfect, he would want to spend time with me.”
“Well, he’s an idiot then. Anyone would be lucky to spend time with you.”
I give myself a moment to breathe in his cologne. He’s always worn the same kind and I’ve missed it. I remember the way the scent used to coat my pillow long after he left my bed. Shit. What am I doing?
Using as much force as I can manage, I push him away from me. “We can’t do this.”
“Do what, exactly?”
“This.” I motion between him and I. “It’s dangerous.”
“Mac.” He moves to come closer again.
“No, stop. It’s way too easy to fall back into old habits with you and I can’t risk that. I’m engaged.” I swallow before allowing the words to leave my mouth. “We need to stay away from each other.”
His eyes widen at the idea and he lets out a choked laugh. “That’s not possible.”
“Yes, it is. I’ll try to stay away from Maverick’s while you live there. I’m moving out of my parent’s house on Sunday. We don’t have to be around each other.”
He opens his mouth to argue but stops as Tatum cuts him off.
“McKenna, people are leaving. You have to come say goodbye and thank them for coming.”
Sparing one last glance at Colton, I give him an ‘I mean it’ look, then walk up the stairs to join Tatum. The two of us leave him standing there alone and head back to the party.
“Do I even want to ask what that was about?” She asks.
I shake my head. “I’ve got it under control.” Or at least I hope I do.
5
In the past couple weeks, I’ve learned one very important thing about myself - I hate packing. First it was my dorm room, which was hard but tolerable. My childhood bedroom, however, is a totally different story. All the memories that fill every inch of this place make leaving it so hard. I’m about to move into a house with my fiancé; the man I promised to spend the rest of my life with. I should be less scared and more excited, but I’m not.
“Knock, knock.” My mom interrupts my mental freak out. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.”
She comes beside me and helps fold the clothes I have in a pile and place them in the box. “Where’s Parker? Shouldn’t he be helping you?”
“He went to pick up the keys.”
“Ah. Those would be useful, wouldn’t they?”
I chuckle. “Just a bit.”
After folding a couple more shirts in silence, she sighs and sits down on
