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He smiles and holds out his arms. “You want a hug?”
Fucking hell, this man. “Don’t be nice to me,” I squeak. His eyebrows rise, and I roll over and scramble off the bed.
“Sidnie? What’s going on?”
“I shouldn’t have come.”
“I didn’t think you did,” he teases, getting to his feet.
“Mack—don’t. I came here to spy on you.”
He stares at me. “What?”
We face each other, about two feet apart. I’m shaking now.
“I was paid to come here and take photographs of your work,” I say, gesturing at the desk.
He looks at it, then back at me. All of a sudden, we’re both completely sober.
“By whom?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“You can’t tell me, or you won’t tell me?”
I just shake my head again. I’m terrified. I can’t be specific as to what I’m terrified of.
The silence in the room is so loud it hurts my ears. Way off in the distance, I can hear Paua of One playing, but it no longer seems magical and exciting. I’ve drunk too much, and nausea sweeps over me.
“So what were you going to do?” he asks, his voice hard and flat as a sheet of iron. “Fuck me, wait for me to fall asleep, and then break into my laptop?”
“Something like that.”
“Why didn’t you?”
I don’t reply. I just press my fingers to my lips again and hope my eyes explain.
He holds my gaze for a long time. And then eventually, he says, “I think you should go.”
I swallow hard. “Will you at least let me explain?”
“Is there really anything you can say that will make this okay?”
I don’t know what else to say. I’m shaking so hard.
For a moment, I glimpse disappointment and regret in his eyes. Then it disappears, leaving only a hard mask of fury.
“Get out,” he says. “Before I call security.”
I pick up my purse, turn, and flee the room, letting the door swing shut behind me.
Chapter Seven
Mack
“Fuuuuuuck!”
I yell the word at the top of my lungs, so loudly it makes my throat hurt.
