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“Oh,” I breathe out. His dark scruff tickles my jawline as I pull away. Desperate for space. For a chance to think and clear my head, no matter how impossible it feels.
His mouth lifts on one side, and he squeezes my fingers. Letting me go, he comments, “I’m gonna finish exercising. I’ll talk to you later.”
He walks away, his dark basketball shorts hanging low on his hips while the heat from his lips against my cheek mocks me.
Who are you, Macklin Taylor? And why do you care about li’l ol’ me?
“Uh, what was that about?” Blakely interjects.
I blink slowly, realizing I’ve most definitely been caught checking Mack out. Turning to Blake, I paste on a smile. “I think it was Mack attempting to make Wes jealous.”
Blake looks behind me and lifts her chin. “I’d say it worked.”
I turn around. The bench press where Wes and Levi were is now empty.
“Did he leave?” I ask.
“Yeah. I saw him walk out the door.”
Guilt floods my stomach, but it only lasts a few seconds as the memory of Wes and his date at Butter and Grace ahead of my seizure rises to the surface. Yeah, no. He’s fine. And even if he isn’t, he can cry on someone else’s shoulder for all I care. Because Mack’s right about one thing. If he doesn’t accept my condition, he doesn’t accept me. It’s that simple.
The rest of the workout goes by in a blur. However, there’s one thing I can’t help but notice the entire time. One person. Macklin Taylor.
When he heads toward the exit, I tell Blake I’ll be back.
And I chase after him.
13
MACKLIN
Ishouldn’t have intervened. I shouldn’t have touched her. And I sure as shit shouldn’t have kept watching her while I finished my workout. But I couldn’t help it. I still can’t help it. Fuck, half the time, I have a hard-on from being in the same room with her. But actually touching her? Her curves. Her neck. Her skin. She’s so soft. So pliable.
And apparently, still hung up on her ex.
I cut my routine short, grab my keys and coat from the locker room, and head outside, anxious to clear my head. The morning rain iced up the asphalt, so I watch where I step as I stride toward my car in the gym’s parking lot.
“Hey, Mack!” a soft, feminine voice calls.
I turn around to find Kate. She’s still in her gym clothes, but her jacket’s missing. The wind cuts through her tank top almost instantly, making her nipples pebble. I struggle not to stare.
“Where’s your coat?” I demand. “It’s freezing out here.”
“I’m fine.” She folds her arms, continuing to walk toward me. I bite my tongue to keep from arguing with her as I close some of the distance between us.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
With a nod, she rubs her hands up and down her bare arms while avoiding my gaze. “I just wanted to thank you for everything back there.”
“Not a big deal.”
“It kind of was.” Her gaze flutters around the parking lot, choosing to stare at anything and everything except the guy in front of her. “I was feeling alone and insecure, and you helped me.” She peeks up at me again, those stormy gray eyes practically hypnotic yet unsure.
I clench my hands at my sides to refrain from reaching out and holding her chin to prove she has my full attention. Because she does. She has my full attention. She’s had it since the moment we met. Since the moment I saw her on the ground. Since the moment she woke up and looked at me with fear, determination, and strength. So damn lost. So damn strong.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
My Adam’s apple bobs in my throat as the memory of what it felt like to have her in my arms assaults me. “You’re welcome.”
