“It’s nothing,” I tell Frog, when it’s actually everything.
The truth is that I see Mac everywhere. I catch her walking down the street, sundress on and hair tousled from swimming in the ocean. Then she turns around and it’s a stranger. I see her sitting in my lecture, three rows down. I stare at the back of her head for minutes at a time, missing everything my professor says. Then she laughs and tilts her head and her face is all wrong. A trapdoor opens and my heart plummets, each and every time.
It leaves me feeling like I’m losing it.
“You’re losing it, man,” Frog cautions, somehow stumbling onto the same conclusion. He staggers his way to the bathroom and unzips his pants to take a piss with the door wide open.
“Don’t I know it,” I mutter.
“What?” he shouts over the noise of him urinating into the bowl.
I don’t answer. Instead, I search for my wallet. It’s wedged down the back of our ragged old sofa. I tuck it into my back pocket. “I’m going out to get another bottle!” I call out, heading for the door.
“Fuck that,” Frog says, zipping his jeans as he walks back in the room. “Stop being a killjoy and come back next door.” His words are slurred. Whatever he drank over there, it’s taking effect. “They have plenty of booze to fix whatever’s going on in your head right now.”
I’m not admitting to what’s going on in my head right now. Or ever. I met this merry new band of friends two years ago, and if I’ve learned anything since then, it’s that they pry into everything. No topic is too big or too small, and the term too much information does not exist. Your business is their business, your success their success, and your problems their problems.
It actually makes them the best kind of friends to have. They always have your back, even when they know you’re wrong.
For example, Frog slept with another guy’s girlfriend last month. It wasn’t the coolest thing to do, but Frog believes in his right to fuck any living, breathing female that crosses his path. And he can be persuasive. The boyfriend found out. He came looking for Frog like a wounded bear charging prey. He had friends at his back and a knife in hand, fully prepared to cut Frog’s dick off and shove it down his throat.
We knew this day would come eventually, so we might have been drunk and barely seated upright on our bar stools, but there was no element of surprise. We came out swinging, no holds barred. The showdown ended in a bar brawl, six stitches to a wound in Cooper’s back from a switch blade, two broken chairs, and a lifetime ban at the bar we brawled in. It also ended with Henry getting diarrhoea because we got stoned afterward and dared him to eat a giant lump of wasabi.
No doubt my friends will come in handy when the Valentine brothers came to hunt me down and bury me in their dirt hole, but even that isn’t incentive enough to share my stupidity over losing the girl who is everything I never deserved.
So when I open the apartment door and look at Frog, I keep my expression blank. “There’s nothing going on in my head.”
A loud burp escapes his mouth and he laughs. “You said it.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever, asshole.”
Frog shuffles me across the hall. He opens the door and I’m pushed inside. I don’t offer much resistance. To be honest, I’m not sure I can keep away. It’s only been a few minutes, and I already want to see Mac again.
But she’s not here. All I see are Henry, Evie, and Cooper. The three of them are yelling over the top of each other as Cooper struts in front of the television. He has heels on his feet and boobs underneath the white tee shirt. It’s stretched tight from the new additions, revealing a hint of the orange balloons with black skulls underneath. They’re leftover from our Halloween party last year. I know because I’m the putz who got stuck blowing them up. I gave up halfway through when it left me gasping like an asthmatic. I made the resolve to ditch the cigarettes, which I still plan to do. Soon.
I walk over and cup Cooper’s chesty balloons. I’ve no doubt they’ve been playing Truth or Dare and he’s chosen the latter. It’s what we do when we drink.
I give his new additions an amorous squeeze and wink. “Show us ya tits, love.”
Cooper smacks at my groping hands.
“Nice.” Mac’s comment is sharp and biting, like a rubber band flicking my skin. I turn around.
“I thought so,” I reply in a mocking tone.
There’s nothing more either of us can say without revealing our past connection, so I stare. Mac’s hair has grown. It’s piled in a messy topknot leaving her slender neck bare. She’s wearing a baggy shirt and sweatpants. I can’t remember her ever looking so good.
“See something you like?” she asks, folding her arms. “Because I don’t.”
“Burn,” Cooper says from behind me and sniggers. It makes me feel ten years old. Frog pays no notice to either of us. He jabs at Cooper’s chest like a punching bag. Popping sounds render the air and a loud argument ensues.
Fuck it. Mac and I can’t be at each other’s throats every day. No one can live like that. I walk toward the hall, holding her eyes until I pass. I know Mac will follow. She sees the intent on my face and is never one to back down from a challenge.
Knowing the guest room will be hers, I walk inside, turn around, and fold my arms as I wait. Mac doesn’t disappoint. She joins me moments later and closes the door behind her with a discreet click.
It encloses us together and the battle to keep my emotions in check begins. I can already feel my jaw ticking as we glare at each other. I’m angry. She’s not supposed to be here. I can’t keep my promise to her brothers like this. “What the hell are you doing in Melbourne, Mac?”
She mirrors my actions and folds her arms, creating a standoff. “How dare you! I’m attending university here just like every other student.” Her nostrils flare. “I’m not following you, if that’s what you think. I’m not that pathetic to chase after a guy who doesn’t want me.”
A protest climbs my throat. I choke it back down.
I want her. God, do I want her. My hunger is palpable. It rages through my blood like an inferno, savage and hot. It’s all I can do not to reach out and grab her.
I fist my hands by my side in a fight for control, but my voice is hoarse. It betrays me. “You think I don’t want you?”
She cocks her head, entirely too calm and in control. I know it’s an act. The colder Mac becomes, the deeper her agitation runs below the surface. “I used to think that, but I’m watching you now, Jake …” She steps toward me. Lifting a finger, she rakes a nail slowly down my chest, never taking her eyes from mine. I suck in a breath. Her lips curve coolly. She heard it. “… and I’m thinking you do. You want me. I see it in your eyes.” Her finger trails down until she’s cupping my rapidly filling cock. She squeezes and my pulse ignites. “And I feel it here.”
I take her hand and move it away. “You think you can toy with me now?”