image
image
image

Chapter 3

image

MAC

Pretending to sleep next to someone who Mac was wildly attracted to, but obviously wasn't a fan, proved to be one of the harder things he had to do lately.

The first sign that he’d taken his career and his lifestyle for granted was sitting next to a gorgeous girl and listen to her say he wasn't anything special.

It was true. He wasn’t. He wasn’t anything special. If he were, he’d be able to help his dad with his sickness. Wallowing in his own shortcomings wasn’t going to help anyone.

Mac had to avoid the fact that – cancer or not – Dad was extremely sick. The thought that everything might be true made him uncomfortable in his skin. He sat up, pushing the button to bring his chair upright. Adjusting his jacket, he pulled his legs to the side and stared out the window.

The rattling wheel of the drink cart drew his attention.

The stewardess flashed her over-bright smile and passed him the drink he requested.

Reaching across the woman, Mac accidentally elbowed her shoulder. He shook his head and pulled his drink to his tray. “Excuse me. I’m so sorry about that.” Just racking up the points.

The blonde glanced at him, as if his apology startled her.

Swirling his plastic cup, he glanced at her, cautious lest she think he was trying to accost her or something. “You’re surprised I said excuse me?”

She softly shook her head, pushing the ice in her own cup around with a thin straw. “No, I just... I didn't expect it.”

“Well, you should always expect respect. When you don't get it, you demand it.” That was a line his dad always gave Mac and the boys. He added a lot more to the sentiment for Eva.

Mac sipped his orange juice and 7-Up mix. He had the overwhelming desire to not think about his dad. “So, you're not impressed with me, which is actually... nice. I'm Mac Hudson.” He inclined his head with a rueful smile. “As you know, and you are?”

The girl beside him glanced at her cranberry juice and then back at him. Thick, black lashes framed her remarkable eyes. Normally, Mac was used to a lot of mascara, but she didn't look like she had put on more than the bare essentials for the flight.

“I'm Angie. Angela, but my friends call me Angie.” She sipped her drink and shifted on her seat. A subtle hint of coconut and vanilla wafted toward him when she moved her braid out from behind her and swung it over her shoulder.

“So, you’ll let me be your friend, now?” He half-grinned, but his heart wasn't in it. As much as he wanted to flirt with her, he didn't have the energy when he was faced with so much emotional turmoil.

She studied his face in the dimming light as more and more passengers shut off their overheads. An overnight flight had been a good choice for possible sleep, even though most wouldn’t sleep well. Angie reached out and softly touched his forearm. The slight touch of her fingertips on his forearm over the sweatshirt made the rest of the plane disappear and she came into sharp focus.

Murmuring, her voice barely reached him in the tunnel he’d slammed into at her simple touch. “You should be ecstatic or excited at the very least.”

“Why?” Mac’s stomach twisted. What did she know? Why would she think that? Unless of course, she really had read the article and believed his life was roses and KTMs.

She half-grinned at him, her teasing expression was colored with concern. “You're racing in the upcoming Des Nations this next week, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yeah, Des Nations.” What would it hurt to tell her? She’d asked and he needed to talk about what was going on. He’d never see her again – the thought brought a pang to his chest. He didn’t like that idea, but he leapt at the chance to have a momentary confidante. “I just found out my dad may have stage four pancreatic cancer. I'm not sure if it's true or not, so I have to wait until I get home to find out for sure.”

He avoided her gaze as he felt emotions pricking at his eyes. The last thing Mac needed to do was embarrass himself with a display of sensitivity.

Mac almost rolled his eyes. He was the least sensitive guy he knew. He’d once pushed Eva off a trampoline for crying because she’d gotten hurt.

Angie placed her fingers to her lips, her eyes wide. “I'm so sorry. That's just awful. I haven't seen my parents in years. I’m trying to get home.” She leaned back, taking another drink. Her gaze flashed up and she cast an apologetic glance back at Mac.

Every time she looked at him, his heart beat did a little bump thing he couldn’t explain. It was different from his normal pulse, similar to the way he felt when he climbed on his KTM 450SXF and revved the throttle.

Suddenly Knox Taylor stood at the edge of the row.

What was Knox Taylor doing on the same flight as Mac? Mac’s fist clenched involuntarily and his breathing quickened. The man was a snake.

The guy to Angie's right still slept and Knox’s appearance added to Mac’s distress. He half-stood and glared at the black-haired Englishman that was one of the dirtiest racers Mac had ever met. He half-growled, surprised Knox was even on the same flight as him. “What do you want, Taylor?”

Amusement sparked in Knox’s bright green eyes. He had the look of a famous vampire on one of Eva’s favorite shows which only irritated Mac more.

“I’m not here for you, so bugger off.” Knox redirected his smile to Angie and his amusement faded to boredom. He held out his hand to Angie, leaning on the seat back of the row in front of them. He didn’t even look at her while he spoke. “Give me your tablet. I'm bored.”

Angie softly shook her head and carefully pulled her tablet case from the tray closer to her chest. Eyes imploring, she stared up at Knox. “I’m reading. Besides, I can't even get up there to get it back.” She pressed to the side of her seat, her leg and arm nudging Mac. She seemed to genuinely not like Knox, but Mac couldn’t understand how they knew each other and how she happened to be sitting by Mac and not Knox.

“Read a magazine or something. I want to play the apps that are on there. Hand it to me.” Knox glanced at Mac and smirked. “Are you ready to get smoked at Des Nations? Sorry you had to sit next to this.” He flicked his wrist toward Angie.

Her eyes downcast and she tightened her grip on the tablet, her knuckles white. She avoided his gaze and didn’t answer him.

Knox’s eyes narrowed and in one swift movement he reached down and yanked the tablet and case from her grasp. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Angie half-stood, as she reached for her tablet, and begged. “Knox, give it back. Please.”

“If I have time. I’ve been dying to play this game. Thanks.” Knox turned, walking toward the front. He checked out every girl he passed as he returned to first class.

Mac looked at Angie in utter disbelief. He couldn't believe what he had just seen. “Is Knox your brother or something?” Please, let him be a sibling or something. Mac hadn’t heard her last name, so Taylor was a possibility, but if she was married to that jerk, Mac might throw up for real.

She shook her head, cheeks pink and set her jaw. Claiming her seat again, she held herself stiff and tight, staring in the direction he’d left. “No, he's my...” Angie glanced at Mac and then seemed to deflate against her seat back. “...boyfriend. I just wish he wasn’t. He says he loves me, but... I’m not sure.”

“You wish he wasn’t your boyfriend, but he is? That’s a weird way to look at love.” Mac fell into a bemused silence beside her. No, that definitely wasn't love.

He had watched JT, one of his best-friends, fall in love with his nurse in no time. Mac had watched as they took care of each other and worried about each other. JT and Kelsey only ever gave each other complete respect.

Then, Mac watched Blake and Eva fall in love, actually, they finally admitted their love for each other. Those two had loved each other since the first time meeting in his downstairs living room as eight and six-year-olds.

Taking it a degree further, Mac’s parents were the epitome of true love, standing by each other’s side no matter what.

That was love. Mac had seen it firsthand. He wanted a love like that. There was nothing Knox could say that would convince Mac that the way Knox had just treated Angie was anything close to love.

But that wasn't his job to demand that Knox treat her well. He just suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of pity crash over him for the girl who deserved so much more than Knox Taylor could dish out.