AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m from the Pacific Northwest. If I didn’t like seafood, it would practically be a crime.”
He smiles, picking up my hand and pulling me in a different direction than we were walking. Every time I realize we have something else in common, it's like another piece of my doubt chips away.
We take our bowls and walk to the end of the pier, sitting when we find an empty bench. “You know what’s crazy?” I say as he takes his first bite of tuna and looks at me, curious. “We spent two years in the same high school, and I hardly remember seeing you at all.”
I can see the amusement in his eyes. “What?”
“Mace, you know we had a class together, right?” I must look as confused as I feel. “Psych. I needed one more elective class senior year.”
“Wait, seriously? How do I not remember this?” Genuinely wondering how I could have gone an entire semester without noticing. It’s not like we weren’t friendly. I saw him at least a few days a week after school. Then again, those memories came back only recently.
“You sat at the front of the class and actually paid attention. I remember one day thinking how into the lesson you were when everyone else was passing notes or drawing in their notebooks. I was always in the back trying to write lyrics, but every time I looked up, I’d notice how focused you were. I’m not surprised it ended up being your major.”
I hate that he remembers more than I do, and I don’t like feeling like maybe we could have had more time together if I hadn’t been so blind. I push the thought away, knowing it can’t change anything. “Yeah, if only I knew what I wanted to do with it. I’m a little jealous of you. You’ve always known what you wanted to do, and then you did it. I’m proud of you too, for the record.”
I can see his cheeks get a little pink, which is a first. “Thanks, Mace, but don’t worry. You’ll figure it out. Is anything particularly interesting to you?”
“Not really. I took this weekend class last quarter about human trafficking, and I think about it all the time. Not in, like, a morbid way. The professor told us about these organizations, like this one in Costa Rica, where they rehabilitate girls who have been trafficked. They are usually behind on their education and struggle to work through their trauma, so they need a lot of one-on-one help so they can confidently reintegrate into society. Sometimes I think it would be fun…well, maybe that’s not the right word…to do something like that for a while. I want to do something that matters, you know? That makes an impact in someone's life. Like you do with your music.”
“I would love it if my music had that power.”
“I guarantee it does, Mack. I’ve heard 90 minutes of your lyrics, and I can tell you words like that matter to people, make them feel like they aren’t alone. That can make all the difference sometimes.”
“Thanks,” he says sheepishly and makes eye contact with me. “Music was there for me when my parents weren’t. I’d love to help other people have that if they need it. You can make any impact you want, too, Mace. It’ll happen, I know it.”
I smile as I spoon the last bite of my lunch in my mouth with my chopsticks. It’s weird to think we lived our lives right next to each other as near strangers. Now here we are, living a thousand miles apart and trying to exist together. Being together now almost feels like enough to make up for all those years we weren’t.
CHAPTER FORTY
Anintenseblendoforange and pink light the sky through the window, making the whole kitchen glow as we enter Mack’s apartment. He walks to the fridge to grab water, and I can’t help but watch him. Leaning my elbows on the counter, I rest my chin on my fists. He turns around and catches me staring. “I had the best day with you.” My voice sounds more dreamy than I intended it to be.
“It’s not over! What do you want to do?”
I walk around the edge of the counter, pulling the water bottle from his hand and setting it on the counter behind me. Since we’ve been in public all day, we’ve hardly had any physical contact, and now that we are back in his place, alone, I don’t want to stay away any longer. He seems to be on the same wavelength because he takes a step closer as I do the same, closing the distance between us. His hands fall to my waist and mine press lightly against his chest. The moment his lips touch mine, that newly familiar calm rushes through me. It’s like any anxiety or stress built up in my body disappears. His tongue parts my lips and slides between them. Our mouths sync right away, as if we’ve been doing this for years. My hand reaches to tug on the hair at his neck fervently, pulling him closer. The new movement causes him to flinch, like I’ve startled him.
“Maci.” He looks at me with pleading eyes. I know he’s telling me I need to be the one to slow down because I can feel his want for me radiating off him. My eyes scan him for the answer he’s waiting for from me. I take a dramatic stomp back, a whimper escaping my lips.
He chuckles, and pulls me into a side hug and starts walking us over to the couch. “I know it feels like we don’t have time since you’re leaving tomorrow, but we have time. I promise you, we have time.” God, he’s so sweet, enough to overpower the throb between my legs, for now at least.
I scroll through Netflix while Mack orders us a pizza from the authentic Italian place down the street. It’s different here than Oregon. It’s more chaotic, but you also have everything you could ever want, practically at your fingertips.
After we eat, we make it to a second movie, with me leaned into him and his arm wrapped around me. Every once in a while, he kisses the top of my head and squeezes me to him a little tighter. I’m not sure how I can be so comfortable and content, while also wanting so much more.
I’m woken by him rubbing his thumb over my shoulder as the credits roll on the tv. My body has slipped down so my head is on his lap. When I sleepily gaze up at him, he’s looking at me. “Ready for bed, babe?”
“Mhmm.” I sit, and he reaches for my hands, pulling me up with him. Leaning into him, I link my arm through his, my eyes mostly closed as he leads us into the bathroom and gets our toothbrushes ready. I steady myself on my own enough to lazily brush my teeth, staring at him in the mirror as I do. It’s such a strange feeling, being so at ease with someone. The few times I was at Dean’s, I would use my finger and toothpaste, too afraid to show up with a toothbrush or ask for one. I’ve never felt this comfortable with anyone before. It’s different, in the best way possible.
It’s dark in here other than the stream of light from the city coming through at the edge of the curtains. I turn so I’m facing Mack instead and am surprised to find his eyes are open and looking back at me. I’m in that stage where you aren’t quite sure if you’re awake or asleep, and everything feels like a dream. “You’re awake?” My voice comes out raspy.
“Can’t sleep,” he whispers, reaching to tuck the piece of hair that’s fallen in front of my face behind my ear. That feeling is as good as I was hoping it would be. Instead of pulling his hand back, he leaves it there, twisting his fingers into my hair. His touch makes me want to drift back off to sleep, but I don’t close my eyes. We stay like that, staring at each other until my eyes have adjusted a bit to the dark.
I’m not sure which of us make a move first, but all of a sudden his mouth is on mine and my patience to stay in the previous moment forever turns into a surge of urgency that flows through me. His hips slowly scootch across the bed, bringing him closer. He’s close enough I can feel him, hard, against me. His hand slowly slides down my neck, my arm, stopping at my hip, gripping it with more pressure than there was a moment ago. There’s a shift as his want overpowers his hesitancy.
My hand finds his side under the sheet and explores a little further, lightly tracing his abs. Overcome by the urge to let them wander further, I run my fingers along the edge of his briefs, that lie slightly above his pajama pants. His hand moves from my hip and his fingers softly trail along my forearm until they reach mine. He squeezes my hand slightly, stopping my fingers in their track. “Maci?” His eyes lock onto mine.
“Mack.” I say it more as a statement then a question as I lean forward until my lips barely graze his. I already know what he's going to say.
“It’s hard to keep my hands off you.”
