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“And Kyle?” Maggie asked, her heart aching for Dean.
“It had been a work dinner. When we got back to town, and you hadn’t given me an answer, I showed up at his door. I was a desperate, jealous, thoroughly besotted mess, and he made sure I knew it.”
“Dean. I’m so—”
“So I’ve been groveling. He’s actually coming over for dinner tonight. He said he didn’t want me if I was only interested because I was jealous. And he was right, so now it’s my job to show him I love him without anything getting in the way.”
Maggie almost wormed her way out of staying to meet Kyle, but she was glad she didn’t. Kyle was wonderful. He was a middle school art teacher, and he showed up at Dean’s house in paint-splattered jeans and a short sleeve button down. His dark skin gleamed under the hallway lights. His smile was kind, and his eyes were warm. He kissed both of her cheeks when Dean introduced them, and Maggie loved him instantly. The same warm, comfortable love she got from Dean.
“I’m so glad I had time to meet you,” Kyle said. His voice had a lilt like the gentle rock of waves. “I have a lot to thank you for.”
Dean sat both her and Kyle down on the couch while he went to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. Maggie struggled not to laugh, remembering when she’d tried to feed him herself, and she hadn’t even cooked his meal, Mac had. The laugh died at the thought of Mac.
“Please don’t thank me,” Maggie said. “I selfishly demanded help from your almost-boyfriend and caused a lot of extra drama for the two of you. Not to mention I completely assumed Dean’s sexuality, and that isn’t fair of me either. I swear I’m usually not so self-centered.”
Kyle threw his head back, laughing.
“Oh Dean, she is just a doll,” he said, and Maggie blinked rapidly, wondering how she went from selfish to a doll in seconds. “Maggie, Dean loves you. He wanted to help you, and I can’t blame you for being blinded by his good looks and charm. Not only that, but spending time with you helped him figure out that he wanted me. I don’t mean that the way it sounded.”
This time, it was Maggie’s turn to laugh. “I’m still sorry, even if everything turned out well for you two.”
“Didn’t you get a happily ever after too?” Kyle asked. “Dean mentioned a Mac person who thinks you’ve hung the moon. A Mac person who was supposed to be so overcome with jealousy that he swept you off your feet?”
“Totally smitten,” Dean called from the kitchen as he opened the stove to remove a tray of roasted veggies. “But no sweeping. Either he’s a good guy who didn’t want to poach on her happiness, or he clocked me and knew I wasn’t a threat. Although you should have heard the things he said when he found out I let her fall down a mountain and sprain an ankle.”
Maggie froze. “Things?” Mac had known about that? She’d been back to normal by the next day, so she hadn’t thought much of the fall. It was the rain that had been the most annoying.
“He has a sixth sense about you, Babs. I swear you fell and his eye started twitching in his office.”
“Are we worried about this guy? That sounds a little creepy,” Kyle asked, and Dean started laughing.
“No, Mac’s good people. It’s romance novel stuff. I was sure that call meant they were together, and he'd found a way to unleash all his jealousy from when Babs and I weredating.”
“Tell me everything,” Kyle said. “I love a good romance.”
“We’re working on it,” Maggie said. She didn’t need Kyle’s sympathetic frown to know the hitch in her voice had been noticeable. “I made some mistakes, but I’m fixing them. I, uh, slept with him, and called him my friend, then he started avoiding me, and he told me he doesn’t want to be my friend at all, and we haven’t been able to talk since.”
“You’re such a little romance author,” Kyle said with a kind grin. “This is a classic miscommunication trope.”
“Can you break that down for those of us that don’t read?” Dean asked.
“It’s exactly what it sounds like: two people who aren’t hearing what the other person is saying. ‘I don’t want to be friends’ is usually followed by ‘because I want to be more.’” Kyle said.
“I’m hearing what he said,” Maggie said because she was now, after Cal and Audrey translated for her, “now I just need him to hear me. Why can’t he be my boyfriend and my best friend, dammit?”
“He absolutely can. A lot of great relationships are founded on friendship. Maybe even all of them. Now come sit down with me,” Kyle patted his hip, “and I’ll help you plan. I’ve read so many novels I can practically guess the endings. That has to count for something.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Thehistorybuildingwasn’ttoo difficult to navigate, even though Maggie had never been inside. It helped that both Cal and Audrey had given her directions, and she’d already asked two separate people for help once she had arrived. Cal had also come through with her scheduling questions, so assuming she didn’t get too lost, she’d get to Mac’s office at the perfect time.
Maggie stepped along the linoleum, her nerves leaving her bouncy and on edge. She’d chosen her outfit carefully: a pleated tennis skirt and the oversized sweater she’d never returned. It was her school-girl homage but in comfortable Maggie clothes. Her Keds squeaked on the floor and she turned down the last hallway on the left and started counting doors. She passed three rooms before stopping in front of the large wooden door with the name “T. McCoy” printed on a plaque on the adjacent wall. Underneath was his class schedule and office hours availability. Maggie checked her watch. Three… two… one… she knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Mac’s voice called from inside.
Maggie took a deep breath, tightened her hands around the straps of her backpack, and then reached out to push the door open. Mac was sitting behind a large wooden desk, head mostly obscured by a double computer monitor and a pile of old leather-bound books.
“Office hours just ended. Email me or come back tomorrow after one.”
