“Besides, each day is a gift,” she adds. “Special. We should live it accordingly, and … and …”
A crack forms in Mac’s tough girl veneer. She looks away, not wanting me to see it, but it’s too late.
“And?” I prompt.
Her eyes drop to her feet as if she’s found something interesting in the pavement below. “And no day is special without you.”
My heart flips over in my chest.
I want this girl.
I want her for me.
A desperate ache thumps in my chest. I need to stop this now before I do something crazy, like grab hold of her and never let go.
“If that’s what you think, then you have no concept of real life.”
Mac winces. She finally shows me a piece of her heart, and I crush it.
“You know, initially I thought you’d changed, but you haven’t.” Her gaze narrows on mine. “You’re still a moody bastard.”
“And you haven’t changed a bit either. You’re still a spoiled, sheltered brat, Mackenzie Valentine. You have a family that shields you from life’s bullshit. They give you everything and like the wilful little girl you are, you take it with one hand and complain about it with the other.” I shake my head and reach for another cigarette as I stand. After lighting it, I exhale and force coldness to my eyes. “You haven’t grown up at all, Princess. You just made your way down to Melbourne expecting me to be the same and for us to go back to who we were. Well, we can’t because you’re wrong. I have changed and the world I live in isn’t one where you belong.”
Mac puts her knife and fork down. They clatter on her plate as she stands, our little altercation drawing the eyes of those around us. “What a complete load of bullshit. I belong wherever the hell I choose, and I choose here, with you.”
My eyes flatten. “Wrong choice.”
Her gaze narrows in return. “I’m tired of people telling me what I can and can’t do, Romero. Don’t you start too.”
“You can do whatever you want, Princess. Just not here with me.”
“Fine. I’ll leave.” Mac shoulders her bag and walks away, leaving almost a full plate of breakfast behind. That’s when I know she’s seriously hurt, and I hate the very idea of it. Mac is strong. I want her to always be strong.
I throw some cash on the table and chase after her. “Mac, wait!”
She walks straight passed my parked car and keeps right on going.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Away from you!” she yells back without turning around.
I follow at a light jog to catch up. “When I said you could do whatever you wanted, I meant go home.”
“And when I said fine, I’ll leave, I meant go fuck yourself.”
A shout of laughter escapes me. Mac is pure fire, and I love her. Even after all this time. I’m still hers.
“Laugh it up, chuckles,” I hear her mutter as she motors down the street.
What the hell, right? Life is meant for living. “Mac, stop.”
She keeps walking ahead of me. “No.”
“Stop!”
“No.”
“Remember when I said I belonged to you?” I call out. Pedestrians glance at me, but I don’t care. When she stops and turns around, others do too.
Her green eyes soften, and I know she’s remembering. Our first kiss. First love. I want her to be my first everything.
“I still do,” I say. There’s no denying that particular truth.
“I know, Romero,” Mac says and starts back toward me. “Why else do you think I’m here?” Her chin lifts. “But there’s one thing you don’t know, and I never told you …”
“And what’s that?”
“I belong to you too.”
“Can you hold up the towel?” It’s more a demand than a question as Mac jams the bright flowery towel at my chest. Later that afternoon we’re in the mostly deserted car park at the beach, both standing by the passenger door I just opened for Mac. We’d spent the day catching up on the two years that had passed between us, and before taking her back to my house we decided to go for a swim at the beach. Me because I need to cool off. Being around Mac again has me itching to do things I shouldn’t be doing. And her because she’s on a mission to live life to the fullest and make each day count.
I take the towel and hold it up. “What are you doing?”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she turns, leans inside the car, and rummages around in her bag. Finding what she’s after, Mac backs out and faces me. “Not that way.” Mac huffs and grabs the towel. She rotates it sideways and hands it back. “That way.”
Satisfied I’m holding it in just the right position, Mac takes a step back, picks up the hem of her dress and peels it over her head. It drops to the ground.
Holy shit.
I choke.
She isn’t wearing a bra.
“Mac!” I bark and come at her with the towel— but not before I take in every inch of naked skin and commit it to memory. I wrap it around her front, effectively straight-jacketing her with it and hugging her at the same time. “Don’t do that here where people can see you.”
Amusement flashes across her face. “No one’s looking. There’s no one here.”
“I am, Mac,” I say wryly. “By people, I mean me.”
Her lips curve. “But you’re allowed to look. Don’t you want to?”
“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in my response. “Hell yes,” I add, just so she knows how much.
She grins. I duck my head and effectively kiss it right off her face. It’s a quick press of my mouth to hers, but it’s enough to draw a ragged moan from her lips when I pull back. It sends blood pumping so hard through my veins it hurts.
“Is that all you’ve got?”
Mac’s taunt has me leaning close, my lips a mere inch from hers. “You want more?”
“Don’t you know me by now?” she breathes against mouth. “I want it all.”
I kiss her again when I know I shouldn’t, but there’s no stopping myself. Her lips are on mine, and I feel it down to my toes. Heat and need surge together, a desperate war that has me pushing her back against my car. My tongue slides inside her mouth. Mac returns the touch and a groan climbs the back of my throat.
Tomorrow, I vow. I’ll send her home tomorrow.
Her hands slide around my neck, fingers tangling in my hair.
“Now, Jake,” she pants, pulling back. Her lids are lowered and eyes glazed. “I want you now.”
“Now?” Here? My mind scrambles. I search the parking lot. It’s mostly deserted. Why am I even contemplating this? It’s crazy. We only just reunited this morning, after years, and even though it feels as if we’ve picked up right where we left off, it’s too soon for something like this. “No. We can’t.”
Mac doesn’t listen. She opens the back passenger door instead. She climbs in and turns around dropping the towel. “We can.”
I can hear her say something, but the words don’t register. My eyes are on her tits. They’re small and round, her pale nipples beckoning like pink cotton candy. My gaze lowers following the trail of smooth golden skin to the pair of red lace panties. Mac is only seventeen. Sexy underwear like that should be wrong, like a girl trying to be something she’s not, but on Mac they belong. They hug her skin like gift wrap waiting to be torn off.