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Cal leaned forward to pin her in place with his stare. It was so much like Mac’s that she sucked in a breath. “Please understand that I wouldn’t share this with anyone but you, and I’m only doing this because you love my brother. He’s probably messing this up just as much as you are, and frankly, of the two of you, you’re the only one I trust to listen to reason.”
“I will.” Maggie said quickly. “I want to fix this. I’m just scared there’s nothing to fix.” She took a deep breath. “He made it sound like I was a one-night-stand, not even worth friendship.”
“What?” Audrey shot to her feet, anger pouring from her like steam. “That motherfu—”
Cal groaned and dropped his head to his hands. “My brother is a dumbass and apparently an asshole, but hopefully a forgivable one.” He took Maggie’s hands in his. “Mac is not now and never has been good in social situations. He just doesn’t care what people think or say, and he has that scowl honed to perfection, so most people leave him alone. I only remember one other person who ever had him tied up in knots before you, and even she was small beans compared to you.”
“I don’t need to know.” Maggie tried to pull her hands away. This was private. Mac would tell her if, and when, he was ready.
Cal shook his head.
“She friend-zoned him, Maggie.” Cal said and when Audrey opened her mouth, frowning, he added. “I know that most guys in the friend-zone deserve it because men aren’t entitled to anything from their female friends, but this was different. She let him do things for her, bring her gifts, drive her places, she let him take care of her. I was a freshman, and they were seniors, but I even heard the rumors about how into her he was.
“He asked her to prom, one of those big prom-posal things everyone did in the early two-thousands, because she said she needed a grand gesture. She turned him down flat in front of half the school. She said she’d never go to prom with someone who was just a friend. She needed to go with someone she was actually attracted to. Someone she could actually care about.”
Maggie didn’t want to hear more. How awful that must have been for Mac. He’d put himself out there in a way she knew was so anathema to him, only to have it thrown in his face in such a cruel way. She wanted to ring that bitch’s neck. The similarities also weren’t lost on her. Once again, Mac had been loving her, taking care of her, showing her through little acts of service from a distance, and everyone seemed to know. And what had she done? Told him they were friends. As if none of that other stuff mattered. As if she didn’t love him back. He’d obviously seen his past staring him in the face, and had lashed out like a cornered animal.
Maggie supposed it didn’t matter if she’d done it on purpose. Calling Mac her friend had ruined the tenuous relationship they’d been building. She could stomp her feet and cry about how he’d cut her off, how he’d stopped her from saying that they were friends and that she wanted to be more. At the end of the day, he’d been hurt, and he’d tried to protect himself.
And then when her world imploded, he’d gotten Audrey and gotten her a cookie, but hadn’t trusted himself to be around her.
“Do you think of Mac as your friend, or as something more?” Cal asked.
That was the question of the hour, wasn’t it?
Why did she have to pick one or the other?
Why couldn’t it be both?
Why couldn’t he be her friend, possibly her best friend, and…
“I’m in love with him.” Maggie said, shifting her gaze from Cal to Audrey, and then to her own hands in her lap. “How do I fix this?”
“Tell him,” Cal said, “and after you kiss and make up, make sure he apologizes to you, too. He acted like an ass, and I’ll kick his if he doesn’t make it right.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Theonlyupsidetothe chasm that seeing Mac had left in its wake was the fact that Maggie’s revisions were speeding forward. As an author, she would be the first to say that negative emotions were better than no emotions, but now that she was sitting with the ache in her chest, she had to admit she’d never experienced anything quite like this before. Every part of her wanted to repudiate the idea that Mac had only been after one thing. Cal had all but sworn that Mac hadn’t meant what he’d said, but as a week passed without a message, a text, or a call, she had to admit her confidence was waning.
She raised her hand to rap on Dean’s front door with her muddled thoughts swirling. Maggie had avoided his two calls a day, and she’d broken their deal to be exclusive. She definitely owed Dean an explanation. Probably a fruit basket, too. Or a cheese platter. She wasn’t sure about the fruit, but he could at least eat cheese. Maybe a sampler of beef jerky.
Dean opened the door shirtless, rubbing a navy blue towel over his firm, smooth chest, and Maggie sighed as she realized not a single atom of her body tingled in response.
“Babs,” Dean said, surprise pulling his brows together, but he was gentlemanly enough to step back and usher her into his apartment. “I called.”
He shut the door behind her, and Maggie winced, glad he was standing at her back. “I know,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Dean waved her off and tossed the towel up on his spotless countertops. “I was just worried about you. Even Audrey says she hasn’t seen you this past week.”
That was true. Avoiding Dean had been relatively easy if she didn’t pick up his calls. They didn’t frequent the same spaces. Blowing off her normal get-togethers with Audrey had been trickier and required a careful balance of avoidance and misdirection. She was still wracked with guilt about both. But she hadn’t figured out how to talk to Mac yet, and until she did that she was avoiding Audrey and her game of twenty-questions.
Dean stepped into his bedroom and returned with a shirt. Maggie bit back a laugh as she recognized it from their soggy hike. The universe wouldn’t even give her a break here, would it? He started his deluxe coffee maker and pulled two glass tumblers from his pristine overhead cabinets and set them on his marble countertops. Maggie couldn’t comprehend how to start that machine if her life depended on it. Dean pressed the buttons without even looking.
“You look like you could use a pick-me-up,” Dean said as he added tiny cubes of ice to each glass. “I figured you’d prefer one of your sweet coffee confections to alcohol, but if you want a drink, I’ve got a stocked bar.”
Neither alcohol nor caffeine was particularly soothing, but Dean was right. She’d much prefer the coffee. She watched as he added almond milk to one glass along with a healthy dose of sweetener. He poured the fresh coffee into both glasses and mixed them with two metal straws. If he had to be fancy, at least he was environmentally conscious. Maggie reached for the milk-laden drink and Dean batted her hand away, reaching into his fridge for a silver canister and added a healthy dose of homemade whipped cream to the top of her drink.
“What, no chocolate shavings?” Maggie joked, but Dean grinned and added a handful of tiny chocolate pieces to her coffee even as he rolled his eyes.
