He had changed. And she had, too, judging by the tight pants and the strip-me-naked-and-make-me-scream-on-the-front-porch shirt she wore. Her face looked as young and vulnerable as ever, and the unfortunate shifting of the air had proven that she smelled just as damned comforting as she always had.
Her emotional vulnerability hadn’t changed, judging by the way she ran down his walkway, brushing away tears.
And judging by the way his heart—something he had thought had long ago shriveled up and died a miserable death in his empty chest—shattered in a million pieces, he hadn’t fricking changed, either.
He gripped the doorframe to keep from running after her.
He had tried that once, and it had led to a heartache that still left him sleeping in an empty bed with only his nightmares to keep him company.
Though Kenzie was the only woman he had ever and would ever love, Gabe knew he couldn’t give their love another shot. Her bullet had already lodged in his head.
He remained standing. Walking, breathing, functioning like a semi-normal person.
He was the only one who knew that he was, in fact, dead. Thanks to her.
He had no idea why she had come back to Healing Springs, but he didn’t have enough soul to bother with finding out.
The oven timer buzzed, letting him know his pizza was done cooking. He went through the motions of removing it from the oven and slicing it into quarters, but even though he had been satisfied with this brand of frozen pizza for many months, the damn thing stuck to his teeth and tasted of cardboard.
And he had Kenzie to blame for messing with his senses.
***
“So that’s it? You’re just giving up?”
Sabrina tossed her pen across the lunch table, hitting Mackenzie’s arm and making it sting.
“Ouch. Do you have to be so abusive about it?”
“You have been moaning and groaning about missing him for months. I spied on him to be sure he didn’t have anyone new. You uprooted yourself from your new life, adopted a frigging pack of cats, and swore you’d get him to forgive you. And now that you saw him for five minutes and he didn’t welcome you back with the open arms you knew he wouldn’t offer, you’re ready to give it all up?” Sabrina shook her head, clearly disgusted. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
Mackenzie hung her head in shame. Sabrina was right. She was no self-respecting woman.
She gave up too quickly.
She had already proven that when she walked out.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this.” Mackenzie lowered her head to the table, wishing she could slam it and knock herself unconscious. But since they were in a hospital on Sabrina’s lunch break, Mackenzie wouldn’t get a free pass. There were way too many medical professionals around. She’d be saved.
Too bad there weren’t any heart specialists. Not cardiologists, but the kind of specialist who could implant forgiveness and amputate betrayal.
“You pick your head up, girl. You can’t quit this.”
Mackenzie’s head throbbed, starting in her neck and spreading throughout her entire lovelorn brain. She managed to lift it so her chin rested on the table, her pathetic eyes searching for answers in her friend.
“What do I do?”
“You make a plan.”
And that’s how Mackenzie wound up naked and hiding under Gabe’s sheets, ready to remind him of all they had once shared.
***
Mackenzie ignored the growling of her belly and the nervous nausea that warred with her hunger. She checked the time again. Almost six o’clock. She had been here, naked and dying, since four. He never worked late. And he had never been one to go out after work, either.
Then again, what did she know? He could have changed.
She fought the urge to get up and get dressed. This was a ridiculous plan.
He had been so angry. Smiling, but icy.
He had said the “D” word.
What had she expected? Why wouldn’t he want a divorce, now that he knew where to serve the papers?
Understanding wasn’t the same as accepting.
She had to take this chance to fix things. To make him fall in love with her again.
Because she’d never stop being madly, insanely (maybe psychotically if this latest plan was any indication), in love with him.
And if he found her in his bed like this, he’d definitely believe the psychotic part.
She bolted out of the bed, furious that she had listened to Sabrina’s terrible advice.
As she reached for her panties (dreading the way they’d ride up her butt), the door opened.
Shootshootshootshootshootshoot!
Too late to back out. Too late to get dressed—her nerves had her trembling so viciously she couldn’t balance to get one foot through a leg hole. Too late to salvage her pride.
She jumped into the bed, willing her heart to slow to a reasonable rate.
She had lost her virginity to Gabe all those years ago, and the physical sensations leading up to the occasion were the same.
Clammy skin. Racing heart. Excessive saliva.
Powerful tingling. Everywhere.
Clutching the sheet to her chest, she reminded herself to breathe. This was important. This was her shot.
She had lost her chance to change her mind and back out, so she had to commit to the plan fully. As fully as she had committed several hours ago when she had let herself in with the key he kept hidden by the front door.
This could kill her, but at least the death would be quicker than the slow torture she’d endure if she didn’t try.
His keys clattered as they hit the dish next to the door—the one she had painted for him in a ceramics class for their second anniversary. His boots came off next, landing in a thump on the rubber mat. The rattle of his zipper as his coat was tossed on the back of the loveseat near the entrance made her heart rattle louder.
She couldn’t see him with her eyes, but she could hear and feel him as if he were in the same room.
Which he would soon be.
He always came to his room to change before relaxing on the couch.
She closed her eyes, tensed her muscles, and relaxed them. She could do this. She had been naked in front of him millions of times. This would be no different.
As predicted, he shuffled into the room seconds later. She held her breath as she watched his silhouette move through the room. She should have put a light on.
She had gone from potentially sexy and surprising to downright creepy and stalkerish.
Why the heck hadn’t she left a light on?
Should she make a noise? Greet him? She didn’t trust her throat to loosen enough for her to squeak out any sounds. Should she clear her throat? What if she scared him?
Unable to reformulate this stupid, stupid plan, she pulled the covers over her head and held her breath, willing him to leave his house so she could slip out unnoticed.
A millisecond later, he whipped the sheet away from her head.
As she struggled to sit up, grabbing the sheet so she could hold it tight across her chest, he flipped the light on.
Her eyebrows felt like they had merged with her hairline as she struggled for something, anything to say. She knew she had to do something seductive. The longer she took to say something, the worse this got.
Sexy naked woman in his bed could be cute. Crying, blushing, stammering naked woman in his bed was desperate.
And pathetic.
He didn’t say a word, just looked at her like she had lost her mind.
Which clearly she had.
How had she won him over in the first place? She had been fifteen. Had no clue about boys. Knew more about books and studying than about how to socialize.
He had been the one to make the moves. Always.
She was out of her element.
But she loved him. Wanted him. Was willing to step out of her skin and leave her heart thumping on the pillow as a sacrifice if he would just consider taking her back.
With that thought, she tossed her hair over her shoulder in what she hoped was a seductive motion. She forced her lips into a pout, softened her eyes, and loosened her grip on the sheet.
“Hello, Gabe.”
Lame, but it was something. And she didn’t have to fake the huskiness in her voice.
“Are you lost?” He cleared his throat, but she didn’t miss the matching husky undertone.
He wanted her.
Armed with this information, she allowed the sheet to slip a tiny bit. Enough to show more of the upper curve of her breast. She leaned over on one elbow so her shoulder jutted out—the shoulder he loved to nibble.
“I was lost.” Corny. “I’ve missed you, Gabe.”
She watched as emotions clouded his dark eyes. His jaw hardened, and her tongue longed to feel his uncharacteristic stubble.
She allowed the sheet to fall completely to her lap, revealing her breasts. And her heart. The heart he owned.
His cheeks reddened as his eyes followed the reveal, then slowly, seemingly reluctantly, returned to her eyes. His body faced hers head on, and she was confident that if she were to reach out and grab him, she’d feel an erection through his jeans.
She wasn’t that forward. He had to make the next move.
“Do you want me, Gabe?”
Saying his name felt like returning home after a forced holiday. He had always loved hearing his name in her voice. When they had chosen to enroll in different colleges, speaking on the phone was one way they remained connected. Saying his name was a sure way to get him tuned back into her, no matter how much time had passed.
The seconds ticked on as she awaited an answer.
Make a move, Gabe. Please make a move.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and she watched as his chest inflated with air. He opened his eyes slowly, and with a mocking smile, he turned away. “I have something for you.”
Trepidation ran down her spine like those bony Halloween hands that decorated porches in the fall. His tone was light-hearted, but didn’t fit the situation.
She wished she could call Sabrina for advice when he practically skipped out of the room, but she knew she was on her own.
She pulled the sheet back over her chest when he came back in, folder in hands.
“Glad you decided to come back so I wouldn’t have to track you down.” He tossed the folder on the bed, just out of her reach. He then crossed the room, picked up the clothes she had left neatly folded on the chair, and tossed them at her. “Get dressed.”
He stormed out of the room, throwing off energy that deeply contrasted his vocal tone.
She slipped her shirt over her head, not bothering with the bra. She then reached forward to grab the folder, not wanting to see the contents.
She already knew what was in there.
He reappeared as tears filled her eyes. He looked intimidating filling the doorway, his bulked-up shoulders making it impossible for her to escape without asking him to move.
Not that she could get her legs to listen to the “get out of bed” command.
“Did you have a chance to read the headline?”
Why was he being so deliberately cruel? So mocking?
“That’s right. Divorce. With a capital D. I’m sure that’s what you actually came back for, right?”
She couldn’t blink away the tears fast enough.
He knew damned well that wasn’t what she came back for. And how could he so callously taunt her while she was as vulnerable as she had ever been?
She raised her chin and looked him in the eye, not giving a crap if her mascara smudged in front of him.
“That’s not why I’m here, and you know it.”
“Really? I thought maybe you wanted one last go-round before we made it official. I’ve heard that’s a thing. Goodbye sex is supposed to be the best part of a breakup.”
“When did you turn into such a heartless bastard?”
She found her footing at the same moment she realized he had changed. And not for the better.
Legs no longer trembling, she stood on her own two feet. She didn’t care that she was bared to him from the waist down. She didn’t care that his tongue darted over his lips as she slipped the black thong on. She didn’t care that the redness returned to his cheeks—his signal that he was turned on—as she shimmied into the slim black jeans with the leather strip down the side. She stared him in the eye as she clothed herself, wishing she could find the scrap of self-preservation she had lost somewhere on the way back to Healing Springs.
Screw him.
She was done.
She couldn’t get past him, so she stared up at his face as her nostrils flared and her heart thudded.
She wouldn’t ask his permission to pass. He’d move.
They stayed like that for longer than comfortable, with her chest practically touching his belly as she glared up at his condescending expression.
He gave in first.
With a grandiose sigh, he moved his shoulder back, leaving just enough room for her to slip by. She did her best not to touch him.
“You want to know when I became such a heartless bastard?”
His voice was quiet. Dark. Dangerous.
She didn’t want to turn around, but she couldn’t resist the pull.
“The day you killed my dreams.”