The two little exes at the end of his message make my heart skip. I’m being stupid. It doesn’t mean anything. I’m sure lots of people end all their messages that way.
But as I shower and get ready for bed, I can’t stop thinking about it, and I go to sleep with a smile on my face.
Chapter fifteen
Kit
Sittinginthecarwith Mackenzie is the most uncomfortable fifteen minutes of my life. The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife. I have no idea what to say, so I say nothing.
I thought he would be furious and then see the funny side. I don’t know why I wanted to rile him in the first place. Some schoolboy stupidity of being mean to the one you like, because you crave his attention and don’t know how else to get it. Either that or I was trying to prove to myself that our kiss meant nothing.
Whatever the cause, it had been a stupid idea. Really, really fucking stupid.
He hadn’t looked furious. He had looked scared, vulnerable. Hurt and betrayed.
Seeing that look on his face had torn my heart to shreds. I wanted to rip apart the person who had done that to him, but I was that person. I had inflicted pain. It was beyond awful.
Why, oh why, had I ever wanted to convince myself that our kiss was just acting? A meaningless meeting of lips. That kiss was not nothing. That kiss was everything. I’m not crazy, I didn’t imagine it. I was stupid to be scared of it. This feeling of knowing I might have fucked up so bad I’ve lost him forever, is a billion times more terrifying than the thought of falling for him.
My thoughts continue to tumble in a chaotic spiraling mess. Part of me knows I should say something but I can’t begin to untangle my thoughts to even know where to start.
The car pulls up outside my house and I scramble out gratefully. Now I am standing here, on my driveway, watching him drive away. There is a strange pain in my chest. My limbs feel heavy.
Sighing deeply, I make my way inside and throw myself despondently on the sofa. I don’t even bother turning the lights on. Sitting alone in the dark feels apt. It certainly feels deserved. Brooding feels like the only option right now.
My thoughts continue to whirl. Why is he so upset about it? Is the idea of me being top so bad? Was the stunt too silly for his cool image? I sigh and run my hand through my hair. I’m being an ass again, I damn well know that whatever the problem is, it runs far deeper than anything as superficial as what my mind is coming up with.
I ponder it deeply for a while, trying to figure it out. I’m not dumb and I’m usually good with people and seeing how they tick. This is a puzzle I should be able to solve.
After a while, an image flashes of the look in his eyes as he quipped about being a child star. My stomach rolls as everything clicks into horrifying place. I’m a fucking idiot. I know, or at least strongly suspect, that he is an abuse survivor. It’s not a great leap to realize such a public declaration that he lets people come in him is going to be traumatic.
I swallow dryly, mulling it over. It has the bitter taste of truth about it and I know I’m right or at least close enough. I groan and bury my head in my hands. I’ve never fucked up so badly in my life. This is spectacular, even for me.
I whip out my phone to call my mom for advice, but then I remember the time difference, it’s four a.m in London. She would just tell me to apologize anyway. I can almost hear her voice saying the words. She is right. I have to start there at least. I have to make amends, and not just because it’s the right thing to do, but because the thought of him never speaking to me again, feels like a giant crater has been carved in my chest.
To have gone from that unforgettable kiss, to this nightmare, in such a short space of time is nothing short of astonishing.
I open up my text app and all the words I couldn’t find earlier pour out. I don’t mention my theory on why he is upset, because despite evidence to the contrary, I’m not completely clueless.
I can see my messages have been delivered but he hasn’t opened them. Undeterred, I add some more. It seems I’m typical of my generation and far better at communicating via text than face-to-face.
He still doesn’t read them. Sighing, I head for the shower. Mostly so I don’t add more messages and make myself look completely crazy.
After the shower, I’m barely dry before I’m grabbing my phone. He has read them. All of them. No reply though. No little dots to show he is writing a reply. That feels fair enough. But what if he has blocked me? Panic swirls through me and I fire off another message. It shows as delivered and read almost instantly. That makes me smile.
He is at home, holding his phone and reading my texts. Thinking about me. I can almost picture it. It feels like we are connected and I like that a lot.
I finish drying off. I feel much better now that I have given my apology, but it’s nowhere near enough. I need to somehow make amends. If only I had a time machine. But that is a useless train of thought. What I have done can’t be undone. Not in today’s world of instant media. I don’t have to check to know that the photos are everywhere.
All I can do is even it up a little. Do something that is embarrassing for me. A public humiliation. A dark, conniving part of my mind lights up in avarice at this thought. Everyone loves the ridiculous stunts Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively pull on each other. This could really help my career. I grimace in disgust at myself. I can be such a shallow ass sometimes. Gaining Mackenzie’s forgiveness is far more important than anything else. I’m willing to do anything to achieve it.
Opening up Google, I start searching for ‘embarrassing pranks,’ for inspiration. Determination sets in. I’m going to find something and it’s going to be great.
Chapter sixteen
Mackenzie
Cainlooksbackatme from the mirror as I try to get into character. I’m struggling today when usually it’s like slipping on a glove. I like Cain. He is feisty, sassy, brave, passionate and deadly. I would love to be like him. Instead, I’m just a grumpy bag of anxiety. Pathetic and cowardly. It’s probably why I love acting so much, I get to be someone I actually like for a few hours.
