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“You don’t know what it’s like.” My quiet voice slices through his declaration like a hot knife through butter. He stays silent, waiting for me to elaborate while refusing to let me go. But I’m grateful for it. His touch. His warmth. His strength. Pretty sure it’s the only reason I’m still standing in this moment, though I refuse to acknowledge why.
“Wes isn’t the first guy to break up with me once he found out about my condition.” I bite my bottom lip, praying the slight sting of pain will be enough to keep my tears from falling. “So far, I’m three for three, Mack. You can’t tell me it isn’t something worth worrying about.”
“Everyone has their shit, Kate. Everyone has their baggage.”
Another light scoff slips out of me as I scrounge up the courage to peek up at him. “Says the guy who clearly has his life together.”
“I’m thirty-four, divorced, with two kids who won’t talk to me, Kate. Yeah, I have a home, a steady job, and money in my bank account, but I still have my shit like everyone else.”
“Yeah, well, the guys I pick seem to have a habit of thinking mine is too much.”
“Maybe you need to stop dating stupid boys who are too weak to handle a little baggage. Because trust me, one day, they’ll look back and realize yours was worth carrying.”
The timer on the oven beeps, cutting off my rebuttal. I lick my lips, and he lets me go.
Which is for the best. Because if he hadn’t, I would’ve asked if he was up for the job.
“Now, enough heavy shit.” He sets the cookie tray on the stove and tosses his oven mitts onto the granite island. When he catches me staring, a frown marring my lips, he repeats, “I said enough heavy shit. Stop thinking about it.”
With my ass against the edge of the counter, I fold my arms. “Oh, so I’m supposed to just turn it off?”
“Maybe.” He turns to me, his eyes thinning. “Get out of your head, Kate.”
“I’m not in my head.”
“Yeah, you are. I can see it.” He steps closer and taps his finger against my temple softly. “The wheels are turning inside this pretty little head. Overthinking. Overanalyzing.” His hands grip the edge of the counter, caging me in on both sides. “Stop it.”
“And how do I stop it?” I tilt my head back and hold his gaze.
“I dunno. But if you don’t think of something quick, I might have to find something else for you to focus on.”
My thighs press together as I refuse to back down, no matter how stupid it is. But there’s something in his voice. Something in the way he’s looking at me. Something in the air. The way it crackles around us like the lightning outside. Charged, maybe.
“Is that a challenge?” I ask.
“Maybe?”
“And what else would you like me to focus on?”
His attention drops to my mouth. He leans closer, the heat from his breath warming my cheeks. He’s close. So damn close I can almost taste him. His mouth quirks up slightly as he reaches up and rubs his thumb against the side of my mouth. But it isn’t warm and calloused. It’s soft and cold and wet and––
Confused, I touch my cheek and pull my hand away, examining it. “Did you just put cookie dough on my face?”
The little granules of sugar scratch at my skin as I rub at the blotch of dough with my fingers again, trying to clean myself up.
With a smirk, Mack sucks his thumb still smattered with deliciousness into his mouth, his eyes promising very dirty things if I was only brave enough to take it. And, oh, how I wish I was brave enough to take it. To love someone like Mack. Someone who already took the How to be an Awesome Guy 101 course and could blow my expectations of a healthy relationship out of the water. But it’s scary. Putting yourself out there. Especially when he’s already drawn a line in the sand as to what we are.
Friends.
When I don’t move, he turns toward the fireplace. “What show do you want to watch?”
21
KATE
The wind and rain rattle the windows as the fire crackles in the hearth. It was only sprinkling when Mack picked me up after work, but it’s taken on a new force as the night progressed. I keep waiting for it to calm down, but the storm’s growing more and more tempestuous with every minute.
I should be scared or tense, but I’m not. If anything, it’s almost peaceful. After my mini-meltdown in the kitchen and his excellent distraction with the sexy eyes and the smear of cookie dough, we turned on Netflix and watched a show. No snuggling since we’re just friends. Although I can’t decide if it’s Mack who’s holding onto the title or me at this point. Regardless, I did get a free foot massage. And that, combined with munching on delicious cookies and getting lost inHouse of Dragon,is a pretty excellent combination.
