“I’m sorry I disappeared for a few days. Last time I was here, I felt exposed with things I’m not used to talking about, and it made me feel really weird. I should’ve communicated it better with you, and I don’t like that I probably upset you.”
“Thank you for the explanation, but it’s fine.” She shrugged, the sparkle dimming before she leaned into my embrace. Her words didn’t match her body’s movements, and it carved a hole out of my chest seeing the conflict on her face.
Is she using her body and not her heart?The thought of that being true sent an alarm through me, besides the fact that I did the same thing. It was all about the list, that was it.So why did I want it to be more on her end?
She licked the side of her lip, totally keeping her hands to herself, before she glided down the hall. She didn’t just walk, and she didn’t strut. Mack glided with her strong legs and quick feet. “Want to help me with my hair?”
“Yes.” Any reason to touch her? To be near her? Yes. Duh.
“Great. I’m just doing the tips, so it won’t be too bad. I just mixed the dye, but it’s hard to get the back of my hair, so having another person will make it easier.”
JTT. Just The Tips. God, I was a fucking idiot.
“Where are you doing it?”
“Bathroom. I have a station set up. When we do this, talk to me about your coach.”
Right. I texted that. Damn it. I didn’t want to talk about me. I wanted to discuss her and why she seemed different. Didghosting her for three days make a huge difference? Fuck, I hoped not.
She sat on a stool in front of the sink and had a paintbrush and foil things in front of a bowl. “Stand behind me?”
I moved behind her. The bathroom was kinda small, so it meant I touched her back. She met my gaze in the mirror, and the usual kindness was there but not the warmth I looked forward to. I swallowed. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She frowned. “Why?”
“Did I hurt you?”
Her gaze shuttered, and the worry lines around her face deepened. Mack had a face for smiling and joy, and the frown and apprehension made everything seem off. I hated this look. Fucking despised it, and it was a sucker punch to the chest knowing I’d caused it.
“I’m struggling with a few things. I’ll work through them, but the short answer is… a little. The long answer is no.”
“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Mackenzie.” I put a hand on either shoulder, massaging her neck with my thumbs. “What can I do to make it right?”
“I’m not sure. Honestly? I don’t know what happens to us when the list is done or the summer ends. Do we stay friends? Pretend this never happened? We never really hung out before, Dean. We would be in the same place, but we didn’t hang before the last month, so it seems weird to just pretend this never happened and then you disappear for a few days.”
“Hey,” I said softly, hating the words coming out of her mouth. “This summer is about having fun and experiencing things we can’t because once the season starts? You and I won’t have time to worry about anything but our sports. You’ll be so focused on working out, games, tapes, and leading your team that you won’t be worried about me.”
“And you won’t think about me because you’ll havefootball. Yeah.” She sighed, and that little sound was a knife wedged between my ribs.
She soundeddisappointed.
The worst of all emotions. Anger meant passion. Annoyed was temporary. Disappointed meant I wasn’t living up to her standards she set for me. “No, I’ll always think about you because you helped bring me back to life in a way.”
“And people say girls are dramatic. Jesus, Dean.” She snorted and shook her head, the tension gone from her face. “You’re right though. I’m sorry. I always think too far ahead, and this summer is about fun and living in the moment and the list! The whole reason I’m dyeing my hair booger green.”
“You’ll be a hot booger if that helps.”
And just like that, we were back. No more sighs or weird glances. She smiled so wide it was hard to look away. Every time she laughed, her nose scrunched, and there was a tiny dent between her nose and forehead, and damn, I loved that dent.
“Now, how do I help?”
She guided me through the steps to grab some chunks of hair at random at the tips and put the goo on them. There was no rhyme or reason to how she applied the color. “Just, whatever feels right.”
“Mack, I need a playbook for this. What do you mean justwhatever feels right?”
She laughed, the sound absolutely obliterating any worries that remained in my gut. This girl was pure joy and sunshine. “Pick up a few strands. Then paint them.”
“You’re wild.”
