Chapter Twenty-Three

Will

I should’ve waited until Sunday before driving to Mac’s. That’s what she wanted.

Except I need to see her tonight.

I glance at the box on the passenger seat. As strategies go, I’m chuffed I came up with this one. Returning her things gives me the perfect excuse to see her again.

She only told you to bugger off because you were such a prat.

I hope to God I’m right about that. I get out of the car and hesitate. Do I take the box with me right now, or go with the birthday gift first?

Since her gift is in my pocket, and therefore invisible, I go with the box. Even though I’m hoping by the time I leave I can take it back with me, still filled with her stuff.

Yeah, keep hoping. You’ve gotta grovel first.

Mac opens the door, and I lose the power of speech. She’s wearing cute unicorn PJs, and there’s no reason why I should find them sexy as hell since they cover her from neck to ankles.

Feels way longer than six days since I last saw her.

“Hi.” There’s no mistaking her surprise, but she doesn’t sound pissed that I turned up two days early. Her gaze slides to the box I’m propping up against the wall. “Come in.”

I dump the box on the floor in the hall as she shuts the door.

Although I’ve had days to think about it, I’m no closer to knowing what to say to her. But since she dropped a bombshell on me earlier, I’ll start with that.

“You dropped out of Uni, then?”

She shrugs like she’s embarrassed. “I should never have gone for that degree in the first place. I guess you were right. I need to follow my dreams and stop hiding behind the promise I made to my mum.”

Fuck, I don’t want to think about the shitty things I said to her that night. “I was out of order, Mac. I didn’t mean that stuff I said.”

Her smile is sad. “Yes, you did. It’s okay. Honestly, you didn’t say anything I hadn’t already thought about.”

Somehow, that makes me feel worse than ever. “I was still a fuckwit.”

“Okay, then.” She sounds as though she’s trying not to laugh. Maybe I’m doing something right, after all. “I won’t disagree with that.”

“What are your plans?”

“Oh. Um, well I have all the qualifications I need to go for a Fine Arts degree. It’s just deciding which universities to approach. I’ve got a busy year ahead.”

“Putting your portfolio together?”

“Yes. That’s going to take a lot of work. And I need to set up an art space and stock up on supplies.”

A silence falls between us, almost as though we’re strangers who have just exchanged a few pleasantries instead of best friends who managed to screw things up. Again.

Might as well just jump in the deep end and hope for the best. “I need to talk to you about Saturday night.”

My words dry up as Brooklyn strolls into the hall from the kitchen. Shit. I’m guessing she knows everything, but I don’t want to drop Mac in it if she still wants to keep it all a big secret.

I don’t want a bloody audience when I try and make things right, either.

“Hey, Will. Long time, whatever.” Brooklyn’s grin tells me she knows everything, all right.

“It’s been a while,” I agree.

“About Saturday,” Mac says. I brace myself for a well-deserved, if not literal, knee to the nuts. “I didn’t realize you were talking about your mum. I’m really sorry about that.”

Talk about unexpected. It makes me feel worse than ever about the things I said to her that night. “You don’t need to apologize.” Because that’s my line.

“I really do. I wasn’t thinking straight about…things.”

I know what she’s talking about, but she’s making it sound all cloak and dagger. I glance at Brooklyn. Maybe she doesn’t know everything, after all.

“It’s okay.” Mac sighs. “Brook knows about us.”

But not about my mother. There’s an odd pain in my chest that she kept my confidence from her best friend. And although I wish Brooklyn was anywhere but here, I’m just going to have to swallow my pride and say the damn words.

“I was a dick that night. I’m sorry.”

She smiles, but it looks a little strained. I’ve no clue what to say next.

“Hmm,” Brooklyn says. “Shall I get the popcorn?”

Mac ignores her. “Do you want a coffee? We were about to make some tea. Come into the kitchen.”

We follow her into the kitchen, where she flaps her hand at us to sit at the breakfast bar while she fills the percolator and kettle. Brooklyn nudges my arm.

“Well,” she says. “You’re a dark horse, aren’t you? Setting up a side business in Wales.”

Mac comes over and leans against the breakfast bar next to Brooklyn. “It’s not a side business.”

Which reminds me. She hasn’t heard my news yet. “I’m moving to Wales for good in a couple of months. You were right, too.” I give a faint smile. “I put my flat on the market yesterday.”

“Wow.” She looks amazed. “That’s brilliant. I’m so pleased you’re going for it. How did your mum take it?”

“We’ve been on the phone every night this week. She’s been great. And guess what? Jeremy bloody Jones supports me one hundred percent.”

“Oh my God.” She leans across Brooklyn. “He’s not after your place on the board, is he?”

“You’re cynical.” I grin at her. “That’s the first thing I thought, as well.”

“I have no idea who this Jeremy bloody Jones is.” Brooklyn sounds pissed off, so I give her a quick explanation while Mac makes our drinks.

“And no,” I say as she brings our cups over. “He doesn’t want anything to do with the company. I owe him a very small one for his support.”

“Are you going to buy a place in Wales, then?”

“Once my flat sells.” And what a relief to get rid of that fucking great mortgage. “I’ll be renting for a while at first.”

As we finish our drinks, I can feel the moment slipping away. How am I going to grovel if I can’t get Mac on her own? If only Brooklyn could take a hint and disappear for a while, but that’s not looking likely.

“Anyway,” Mac says. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow you can come clubbing with us. We’re meeting at the Swan at eight. But obviously, you don’t have to meet us there. I can text you the club we end up at.”

It’s like a reprieve. “Sounds great.” I agree so fast she blinks at me in obvious surprise. “Anyway, thanks for the coffee. I’ll leave you both to it.” She follows me out of the kitchen, and when we’re by the front door, I turn to her. It’s just the two of us, and it’s almost like Saturday night never happened. It’s hard not to cradle her face and give her a lingering kiss, but somehow, I resist. There’s no way I’m fucking this up. If I have to wait four years for our next kiss, then that’s what I’ll do. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

…

Mackenzie

It’s ten to eight as I reach the Swan, and I still can’t get over the fact that last night Will not only went all the way to Oxford to see me, but then drove back to Notting Hill.

It didn’t have anything to do with my box of stuff. He wants us to stay friends.

More than friends?

Brooklyn ignored all my subtle hints to give Will and me some alone time. But that’s okay. If he decides not to come out with us tonight, I’ll make up some excuse to go see him tomorrow.

I push open the door to the pub, and he’s sitting at a table right at the front. For a second, I can’t even believe my eyes. He did come. And he’s early. I’m rooted to the spot like an idiot and don’t know what to say.

“Hey, Mac.” His easy grin breaks my stupid paralysis, and I go over to him as though it’s no big deal he’s here.

“Hi.”

“Got you a Scotch. Hope that was okay.”

My glance drops to the table. “Sure.”

I sit opposite him and take a long gulp of the alcohol. Unfortunately, it doesn’t untie my tongue.

“Look. About yesterday. Bringing your stuff back was just an excuse to see you.”

I might’ve half guessed that, but I never expected him to admit it. “Since when do you need an excuse to see me?”

He frowns as though my question doesn’t make sense. “I didn’t think you’d want to after the things I said on Saturday.”

Don’t melt all over the table. “Well, I said some nice things, too.”

At least he smiles at that. “No. You told me stuff you’d never told anyone else. And I just chucked that in your face like it didn’t mean anything to me. That’s why I’m sorry. It’s what I wanted to say to you last night, but I couldn’t find the words.”

There’s a strange tickling sensation in my throat. His words did rip me apart, but I never expected he would realize how badly he’d hurt me. “Apology accepted.” And I owe him one, too. “I feel terrible about the way I behaved. I just got so tied up in knots over the whole art exhibition thing.”

“You’re not a mind reader. It’s not like I told you what was happening.” He pauses. “Even though I wanted to.”

“But I should’ve been there for you.”

“What are you talking about? You’ve always been here for me.”

That’s one of the nicest things he’s ever said to me, even if it is an exaggeration. Before I can tell him that, the door swings open, and a couple of my friends breeze in. Nooo. I don’t want to share Will with them yet.

I get up and give them a hug. “Can you give me five? I’ll be right with you.”

They give him speculative glances before making their way to the bar. I let out a relieved breath and return to our table.

He gives his beer a brooding look. “Thing is, Mac. What I said on Saturday about not wanting us to split up.” He drags his gaze from his beer, and I just about dissolve from the heat in his gorgeous dark eyes. “Now you’re not at Oxford, I need to know if there’s a chance we could get back together.”

I don’t think I can bear just being friends-with-benefits.

It’s no good. I want to be with him more than anything, but things are different now. I don’t want to keep our relationship a secret. If we’re going to sleep together, I want commitment. “Will.” I only just stop myself from taking his hand, and I flatten my fingers on the table between us instead. “You talk about us splitting up. But we were never really together, were we?”

“I know.” There’s a hollow note in his voice that tears me up. “After what happened with Jenna, I was so sure I didn’t want to get serious with anyone else. And you only wanted a fling because of Uni. But I have to tell you. I was wrong. I’ve always been serious about you.”

Oh my God. Did he really just say that?

“Have you?” My voice is a whisper, and I don’t even care that my question is the dumbest ever.

He looks as though he’s about to face his executioner. “I need to know if I stand a chance with you, now you’ve changed your plans.”

I can’t even find adequate words to think, never mind say. I grip his hand and hang on tight, in case he vanishes if I’m not touching him.

In case this is just a lucid dream and not the best birthday present I’ve ever had.

He squeezes my fingers. “You not speaking isn’t a bad sign, right?”

I sniff. “You want to date me for real and go public with it?”

“I’ll sky-write it above Notting Hill if you want.”

“I might hold you to that.”

He grins. “Is that a yes, then?”

I shake my head. “Come here.” I tug his hand across the table, and he leans toward me. Our kiss is featherlight, but I feel it all the way down to my toes. “That’s a yes, Will.”

He pulls back, and we gaze at each other. I’m sure we look completely besotted, but I don’t care that, from the bar, my friends are making whooping sounds our way.

“I got you something for your birthday.” For some reason, he seems unsure. Does he think I won’t like what he’s got me? Seriously, I’m stoked he got me anything.

He pulls an envelope from his pocket and slides it across the table. Intrigued, I pick it up and pull out a cream, embossed card.

My smile slips as shock punches through me. It’s an invitation from an art gallery located in Camden Market to exhibit my work…on Boxing Day.

I swallow, open my mouth, and nothing comes out.

“If you hate the idea, I’ll cancel.” A worried frown slashes his forehead. “And I mean obviously, you’re going for your art now. But at the time I just thought it was a way to show you how much I believe in your talent. How much I believe in you.”

I’m going to start sniffling if he keeps this up. “I don’t hate it. I love it.” I sniff, anyway. “I don’t even know how you managed to pull this off.”

Galleries book up their space months in advance.

He lets out a relieved breath. “I went on a hunt. Most of the galleries were booked solid, but this one had a late cancellation. Good luck or what? I showed them your sketch of me. Obviously, they want to see your portfolio before they finally commit, but you’ve got this in the bag, Mac.”

I clear my throat. “Thank you. This is like—I can’t even.”

“Whoa.” His grin is the one I love, gorgeous, mocking, and pure Will. “Are you speechless?”

“Yes.”

“Are you my girl?”

I laugh, because seriously? “Yeah.”

“And you don’t care that I’ve just chucked away a fantastic future in the city, for a career that won’t make me a fortune any time soon, if ever?”

“What are you on?” I shake his hand, and an irrepressible warmth spreads through my entire body. “I don’t care about any of that.”

He kisses my knuckles, and all I want to do is cancel the clubbing and spend the night in his arms.

“You know what?” His voice is barely above a sexy whisper. “I love you, Mackenzie Carter.”

This is officially the Best. Night. Ever.

“Guess what?” I lean over the table until our lips are almost touching. “Love you, too.”