She grins, shaking her head. “I’m stronger than I look.”
Mac blows across her mug, curls sticking to her damp lips, and squints at me over the steam. “You know, you could atleastpretendyou slept. Right now, you look like the walking dead.”
I snort, leaning back in the booth, arms stretched along the top. “Thanks, Macadamia. Exactly the confidence boost I needed before sunrise.”
Her smile tilts. “I mean it, Trey. You’ve got that whole raccoon thing going on. Dark circles, twitchy eyes. If you start digging in the trash, I’m calling Animal Control.”
I lift my mug like a toast. “At least raccoons are resourceful. Survivors. Besides, they’re kinda cute if you look past the teeth.”
She rolls her eyes, takes a sip. “Yeah, that’s you. Cute if you ignore the teeth.”
I flash her my widest grin, dragging a hand across my front like I’m showing off a prize. “People pay good money for this smile.”
She nearly chokes on her coffee, coughing through her laugh. “Oh my god, you aresofull of yourself.”
“Full of coffee,” I correct, tapping the side of my mug. “Big difference.”
She sets her cup down, still laughing, and shakes her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
I shrug, smirking. “And yet, here you are, voluntarily sitting across from me. So, what does that say about you?”
“That I’m a saint,” she fires back instantly.
“A saint?” I lean in, eyebrows up. “That’s a stretch. You’re more like… a grumpy angel with coffee breath.”
Her eyes widen in mock horror. “Excuse me? You’re one to talk. You downed half your cup in two gulps — your breath could probably strip paint.”
I grin, leaning closer across the table. “Then it’s a good thing your hair’s already blonde. Can’t fade it any more than that.”
She mock gasps, hand to her chest.
I laugh, the sound scraping out of me easier than it should. The kind that starts in my chest and shakes something loose.
Mac watches me, a smile tugging at her mouth, softer now. “See? That’s better. I like it when you laugh. Makes you look less haunted.”
The words settle into me like warmth, even as I roll my eyes to deflect. “Haunted is my brand, Mac. Don’t take that away from me.”
She leans back, smirking. “Fine. You can keep your tortured rockstar aesthetic. Just… maybe let people see you smile once in a while. You’re less terrifying that way.”
“Less terrifying?” I chuckle, shaking my head. “I’m not terrifying. I’m—”
“Broody. Moody. Intense.” She ticks them off on her fingers. “Oh, and don’t forgetdramatic.”
I throw my head back against the booth, groaning loud enough for the two old guys in the corner to glance over. “God, you sound like my press reviews.”
She grins, victorious. “That’s because I’m right.”
I glance at her, smirk tugging at my lips despite myself. “You’re lucky you’re my best friend, Mac. Anyone else would’ve been murdered already.”
She lifts her mug again, casual. “Please. You’d never survive without me.”
She’s right. I wouldn’t.
Chapter ten
Seraphina
I’m With You – Avril Lavigne
