Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Whoa. How come this is the first time I’ve seen this?”
“We don’t bring it out at house parties because we don’t want it to get broken,” he explains.
“Reasonable.” I nod my agreement. “You guys are living the dream here.”
“My mom bought it for me when we got the house because I’m a popcorn fanatic.”
“I feel this in my soul.” I lean against the counter. “I could eat it every day for the rest of my life and never get tired of it.”
“Me neither,” Mac agrees.
“What’s your favorite seasoning?”
“White cheddar is classic, but sometimes I like to mix that with dill.”
“Ooh, nice.”
“How about you?”
“I’m a huge barbecue fan, but also kettle corn hits the salty sweet button.”
“We have this kick-ass farmer’s market in Guelph in the summer, and one of the vendors has the best kettle corn. Back when I was in high school my family would go every weekend.”
“We had one in Niagara, too. It was the best during peach and cherry season, though.” I’m hit with a wave of memories.
“I live for Niagara peach season. Did you go to the market often?” Mac pulls popcorn bowls down from the cupboard.
“It was our Saturday family tradition.” Sadness sweeps over me, and I turn away as I fight to push it down.
“Shit, Fee, I’m sorry.” Mac trails his fingers gently down my arm. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
“It’s okay.” I want to step into him and feel his arms around me again, like when we were at the arena. I work to control the waver in my voice so I can explain. “A lot of people avoid conversations about my parents. Not my sisters, but other people, because death hurts and it’s uncomfortable. We can’t take away other people’s pain, and we can’t stop them from experiencing it, and that can be hard, but I like talking about the memories.”
“Even though it makes you miss them?” he asks softly.
“Yeah.” I inhale deeply, hoping to hold the tears back this time. “If they were here, they’d want me to be happy and still be able to talk about them.”
“I know it’s not the same, but when my parents first split up it felt like this huge loss. Like everything I knew was suddenly gone,” Mac says softly. “I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you, but I am always here, Ophelia. To talk, to not talk, even if you just need a hug.”
“That’d be nice,” I whisper.
He links our pinkies. “Feeling the hug vibe?”
“Please.” My heart skips a beat as he pulls me closer.
My eyes slide closed as his arms circle my waist. And I happily sink into the affection, hands linked at the small of his back. He smells so good, like fresh rain and sandalwood. He’s warm and solid and it feels so good to be held by him.
He squeezes me tighter for a few more seconds before releasing me. But his hands slide up my arms and curve around my shoulders. And mine settle on his hips. Our eyes meet. His are soft and warm, a tropical ocean I want to swim in. His tongue drags across his bottom lip.
Does he want to kiss me?
Maybe he likes me the way I like him.
I lean in and his eyes flare.
Or maybe I’m reading into things. Maybe I’m projecting. Maybe the hormones and the feelings are interfering.
I step back as he leans in.
He raises his hands. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
Was he going to kiss me? Or did I imagine he leaned in? I’m so confused. I blame Cammie and Chase and Mac’s exceptional sweetness.
“No! Don’t apologize. That’s not…I wasn’t…sometimes faces get close together. Especially right after people hug.” What I do next will haunt me until the end of my days.
I grab Mac’s giant hand, raise it in the air, and shout, “High five!”
He stares down at me with understandable confusion.
And I immediately want to melt into the floor.
I just high-fived the guy I want to kiss. Mac and I have never high-fived. Ever. And an embarrassing botched almost-first kiss is not the time for a fucking high five. But here I am, making things endlessly awkward.
I’ve just entered the fourth circle of thumbs-up hell, and it’s nowhere I ever wanted to end up, especially not with Mac.
CHAPTER 13
MAC
“You look amazing,” I tell Fee for the seventh time. “I love this color on you.”
“Save a few compliments for when it’s not just the two of us.” She bumps her shoulder against my arm.
“Seriously, you’re gorgeous, and you’ll be sick of hearing it by the end of the night.”
“We’ll see about that.” She runs her hands over her hips, drawing my attention to the slit in her hot pink evening gown. The bodice dips in the front, highlighting her cleavage. Her hair is clipped at the side, showing off a ladder of ear piercings, and revealing the graceful slope of her neck and the delicate line of her shoulders.