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Before she could blink, he was out the door, heavy footsteps pounding down the stairs. It was a wonder she hadn’t heard him approach the first time. He sounded like a parade of elephants wearing ankle weights.
When Mac battered his way back up the stairs and into her apartment, she asked, “Why do you have Band-Aids in your car?”
“First aid kit.” He walked straight to her sink. “I told you to wash that off.”
“What?” Maggie said and Mac reached for her, making eye contact and waiting for her nod before he wrapped his hand around her wrist. “It’s fine Mac, just a little cut.”
“Humor me,” he said and stuck her hand under the running faucet. “I keep a first aid kit in my car because sometimes I cut myself working and don’t notice until later.”
“You keep first aid kits everywhere, don’t you.” Maggie tried to pull her hand away as Mac reached for the soap. “I bet you have one in your office and offer Band-Aids to all your students during office hours.”
“You’d have to come to my office hours to find out.” Mac rubbed some soap along the pad of her thumb, avoiding the actual cut. It was laughably small, considering the lengths he was going to clean it. Mac stuck her hand back under the water, waiting until the stream ran clear.
“I just might.”
Mac reached for a clean paper towel and blotted Maggie’s hand, collecting water droplets on the soft white surface. He lifted her hand and blew across her skin. Maggie shivered.
As the tremble raced through Maggie’s limbs, Mac’s eyes grabbed hers and held. His body seemed to lock down, tension knotting his muscles, even as he bent forward to see her face. His pupils almost swallowed the umber irises, and Maggie watched them expand as his gaze tracked along her face. Goosebumps raced up Maggie’s arms, and another shiver wracked her body.
Maggie let her lashes flutter closed and when she opened her eyes again, Mac was even closer. She didn’t know which one of them had moved, but his breath fanned over her lips. Unlike the cool air he’d exhaled over her thumb, the sharp breaths that broke across her mouth bathed her in heat. Without conscious thought, Maggie’s tongue swept out to wet her lips. Mac groaned and pressed his forehead to hers.
“I should back off,” Mac said, but he didn’t move. His mouth ghosted against hers with each of his words.
“Please,” Maggie heard herself say, the word raspy and choked.
Her body was on fire, lust pounding through her veins. His hands still held hers, their mouths the only other part of their bodies that touched. She wanted to press up against him. Mac let his eyes drift closed once more and Maggie tilted her head. He was so close, so warm, so caring. She sucked in another breath. Her body swayed towards him.
And Mac stepped back.
He had a bandage wrapped around Maggie’s thumb before she could process what had almost happened.
“I’m sorry,” Mac said at the same time Maggie said, “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, Maggie, Jesus.” Mac pulled a hand through his hair, and Maggie tried not to be charmed by the strands standing straight up. “Audrey asked me about the food processor, and I offered to bring it over, and I saw the blood. I’m sorry.”
“If you get to tell me not to say ‘thank you,’ then I get to tell you not to say ‘sorry.’”
Mac squeezed his eyes shut. He looked like he’d been run through with one of his blades. “I know you have a boyfriend. I won’t put you in that position again.”
A lead weight sat heavy in the pit of her stomach. She’d thought Mac was being a gallant idiot, pulling back when she was begging him to come closer. Dean hadn’t even crossed her mind. Standing in her kitchen with Mac, cleaning a cut she’d gotten preparing a meal for Dean, she’d forgotten all about her fake boyfriend. Maggie could feel the grooves working their way in between her eyebrows and she went dizzy as the blood drained from her face. Was it cheating if her boyfriend was fake? Was she unfaithful?
“I’m sorry,” Maggie said.
“That’s even worse,” Mac said.
“Thank you for the food processor and for giving me a Band-Aid. I’m sorry I—”
He shushed her, head shaking back and forth incredulously. Maggie was still lightheaded. She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. Mac yanked his hands back through his hair again, then scrubbed them down his face.
“I’m the one who was inappropriate,” Mac said. “I’ve been acting inappropriately for a while now. That’s not on you, that’s on me. So now I’m going to make it up to you. Talk to me about this dinner you’re making. You’ve already cut yourself. Should we discuss knife safety? I can’t believe I gave you a blade, and we didn’t discuss knife safety.”
“I cut myself on the spiralizer.” Maggie said, and her world righted itself when Mac’s lips twitched.
“I don’t know what that is.” Mac said, and Maggie pointed to the plastic kitchen gadget with a zucchini wedged in between a handle and a blade. “I still don’t know what that is.”
“It cuts veggies into noodles.” Maggie twisted her fingers to show how the squash was supposed to curl.
“Why do you have chicken breasts?” Mac pointed to the package of poultry Maggie was working up the courage to tackle.
