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Maci:Still on for tonight?
Mack:Duh, did you decide what we are watching?
Maci:I was thinking Pitch Perfect? It’s my favorite movie! And they just added it on Netflix.
Mack:Sounds great, babe. See you tonight.
He’s never called me that before. It feels normal but makes my stomach flutter anyway.
My laptop is on my coffee table with the movie paused on the opening scene, ready to press play. I know it sounds lame to call this a date, but it feels like it. Plus, it’s the closest thing we can do right now. We’ve been texting all week, but I haven’t seen his face since he left a week ago. I’m not sure why that makes me anxious. My finger is hovering over Mack’s contact when his incoming Facetime call pops up. My heart races as I hit accept.
“Hey, babe.” I can see his smile all the way in his emerald eyes when the videos load. His phone is propped against something in front of him, and he’s sitting on a couch, adjusting his black backwards hat over his deep brown hair as he greets me.
“Hiiiiiiii. I miss you! Is that weird? I’ve only seen you once. I’m weird. Ignore me. How was your day?” I word vomit at him.
He laughs. “Maci, we’ve known each other for like half our lives. It’s not weird.”
“I mean, not reaaaally. No offense, but you were always just Avery’s older brother I never saw.” I cover my face with my hand that isn't holding my phone and peek at him through my fingers, knowing he’ll probably take offense.
“Ouuch. Well, I’ll have you know I always saw you.”
I stay hidden behind my hand, my face heating against my fingers. Mack is sweet. He’s easy to talk to and be around. He communicates so well. He says what he’s thinking, and he’s sexy as hell. Just thinking about his backward hat and his zip up hoodie has me wishing I was in California already. The biggest difference between him and Avery is that I have an overwhelming urge to kiss Mack. I’m not exactly sure when the shift occurred, but I’ve caught myself being distracted on more than one occasion, wondering what he tastes like or what it feels like to have his hands running through my hair.
“I wish I was there.” I mean to think it, but it comes out of my mouth as I pull my hands away.
He smiles, his small dimples coming through. “You ready for our date, or what? Push play riiiight NOW!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Igetofftheplane at the Los Angeles airport and immediately dial Avery’s number. “Just breathe,” she laughs before I speak. “It’s just Mack. You haven’t shut up about this trip since he invited you. You’re fine!” It’s like she has best friend ESP.
“Yeah, you’re right,” I mumble into my phone.
Also knowing I need to be kept off the ledge for a few more minutes, Avery starts her classic reassuring best friend pep talk. I'm walking toward arrivals and the path there is a cement tunnel, so right before she finishes the words “BE SAFE!,” the call drops and I'm on my own. My panic instantly returns.
Leaving the tunnel that opens into baggage claim, I see him right away. He’s standing there with a slight smile on his face and flowers in his hands, and all of a sudden I’m calm. This is exactly where I’m supposed to be. I’ve been questioning it every day the past two weeks, wondering how I could go from not being over Dean, to being consumed by thoughts about the next time I’d see Mack. But seeing him right now, I’m confident he’s not a distraction or a rebound. I’m genuinely pulled toward him.
The moment I’m close enough, he wraps me in a hug, nearly crushing the flowers between us, and I'm reminded how good he smells–like when you walk by a Cinnabon and can’t resist. Combined with the roses, I’m intoxicated, and I’m pretty sure it's a feeling that won't leave me the entire weekend. I want him to kiss me right there in the middle of the airport because I’m struggling to wait any longer, to know what it’s like, but somehow I know he’s not going to kiss me. Instead, he takes my backpack from me, swings it over his shoulder and then grabs my hand.
I follow him through the short term parking lot, until we get to his freshly washed black Jeep. It’s the perfect combination of Oregon and California, and with the guitar in the backseat it screams “Mack.” He got it when he moved here. He tosses my bag in the back with his guitar before opening my door for me.
The entire drive to his apartment, we don’t talk much. He’s got one hand on the steering wheel and one holding mine in my lap. He looks great in his plain black t-shirt and backward hat. He keeps looking over at me and smiling. The air between us is filled with anticipation and nerves. With anyone else, I think I’d be uncomfortable, but the silence works for us. I’m content around him even if we are doing nothing.
We pull into the parking garage and walk the two flights up the dimly lit cement stairway to his floor. When we enter the hallway, his apartment is immediately to the right. He unlocks his door, holding it open for me to slide through. As soon as it closes behind us, he sets my backpack and flowers on the floor, and turns back to me. He grabs my face with both hands, leaning in until our foreheads connect. His lips touch mine, softly at first as he runs his fingers from the side of my face into my hair. Then he kisses me again, my lips parting and our tongues melding together in a smooth movement that feels more like we do this every day, rather than something we’ve never done. I could see it in his eyes a second ago, and feel it right now he already wishes we could do this all the time.
He breaks our kiss but lets our foreheads touch again. His eyes flick open and they are the most intense green I have ever seen. I don’t think I could look away even if I wanted to.
“I wanted to wait, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry.” He looks a little guilty.
“I’m not.” I kiss him softly, smiling against his lips. He tastes the same way he smells, like cinnamon sugar, and I decide right then it’s my new favorite flavor. My memory of when Avery told me about her first kiss with Miller flashes into my mind. She said she just knew the second their lips met he was the one she was going to marry. She couldn’t describe it any other way besides she had a feeling at that moment. Even after they were together for years, I still thought it was crazy and illogical she could know something like that, like a kiss was a switch that flipped. I loved Dean–maybe part of me still does or always will–but this kiss with Mack tells me I’m going to love him too, and I somehow know it’ll be different this time.
He’s reluctant when he pulls back. “I wish we could stay right here, especially now that I know how you taste, but I need to get ready for my show. After that though, I’m all yours for the rest of the weekend.”
The venue is kind of grungy on the outside. It has an old marquee letter board above the door that's rusted enough it probably wouldn’t pass an inspection. Inside, it’s a totally different story. It smells like lemon cleaner instead of the musk I expected. Not far from the entrance is a sleek, black square bar that traps the bartenders and the alcohol safely inside. The wooden stage that expands across the back of the room looks newly remodeled and bright white lights still flood the space since it’s an hour before the show starts. The place is pretty much empty, so I plan on sitting at the bar until then. Mack walks me over to one of the black leather covered stools as a pretty blonde pops her head up from under the bartop.
“Oh, perfect. This is Lexy. She’ll keep you company while I’m busy. Lex, take care of my girl for me?” He shifts his attention over to her.
“Careful what you ask for, Mack,” she responds in a flirty tone.
