"You have your shit together."
"Do I? I'm twenty-six years old and my entire identity is small-town hockey. What happens when that ends? What do I have to offer someone like Sophie?" Jamie shook his head.
Mac wanted to argue, but he could see the genuine belief in Jamie's eyes.
"Besides," Jamie continued, his voice lighter now, forcing that playful tone back, "we're friends. Good friends. And I'm not going to ruin that by making things awkward with feelings she doesn't return."
"That's going to kill you."
"Probably."
Mac didn't know what to say to that. Because part of him understood: The terror of ruining something good by asking for something better.
"One thing, Mac," Jamie's voice turned real. "Don't be like me. You and Rachel, that's real. So don't overthink it. Tell her you love her."
"I will. Tonight."
"Good." Jamie raised his beer. "To being brave enough to take the shot, even when you're terrified."
They clinked bottles.
Before Mac could respond further, Rachel appeared beside them, looking nervous and beautiful and determined.
"Mac?" Her voice was soft. "Can we talk? Privately?"
Mac's heart kicked into overdrive. "Of course. Outside?"
Jamie gave him an encouraging nod, mouthinggoas Mac stood.
They walked through the reception, past tables of guests laughing and eating, past the dance floor where Luke was teaching some of Ellie's relatives a complicated move that absolutely would not work, and out into the inn's garden.
The evening was perfect. Warm and soft, with that particularquality of late spring light that turned everything golden. Roses bloomed everywhere, the Riverside Inn was famous for its gardens. The scent was intoxicating.
Mac could hear music drifting from the reception. Sinatra, maybe. Or Michael Bublé.
Rachel turned to face him, backlit by the setting sun, and Mac thought he'd never seen anything more beautiful.
She was twisting her clutch, and had a slight tremor in her hands.
"Is everything okay?" Mac asked, suddenly worried.
"Everything's perfect." Rachel took a deep breath. "I need to tell you something. Something important."
"Okay.. You’re kinda scaring me here..."
And then Rachel smiled, that soft, genuine smile that made Mac's heart forget how to function.
"I love you."
Mac's world stopped. "What?"
"I love you, Mac." The words came faster now, like a dam breaking. "I'm in love with you. I have been for weeks. And I know it's fast, but I can't keep it in anymore. I don't want to wait for some perfect moment because this IS the perfect moment."
She stepped closer, her eyes locked on his.
"I love your patience," Rachel continued, the words tumbling out. "I love your kindness and how you ramble when you're nervous. I love that you read Pride and Prejudice, all four hundred pages. I love that you bring me too many flowers every single week. I love how you look at me like I'm the most interesting person in the world. I love your terrible cat jokes and how you treat your team like family and how you made me feel safe when I didn't think I could feel safe again. I love—"
Mac kissed her.
