64. Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Four
Mac
A pull like nothing I’ve ever felt before has my sight sliding away from the conversation I’m having with Makkin to the motion on the other side of the window.
My stomach drops completely through my asshole at the scene on the other side, unaware of their audience as hands are wrapped around arms and a smile is thrown up at the taller of the two guys.
All I see is his back, but I know.
It’s him .
Right there.
Tilting his head away from the store.
The two exchange words and it’s clear that the short guy hanging off Jordan is perturbed about leaving the area but happy to listen to whatever justification Jordan’s giving him.
It’s like watching a version of what could have been my life on a goddamn TV screen as they turn, and shorty tucks his hand in the crook of Jordan’s arm.
He glances this way, and I’d swear I could see a widening of his eyes through the glass, though I know you can’t see inside from the out. He has no clue I’m here.
And it should stay that way.
But my feet are moving toward the exit before my brain can catch up. The heart in my throat leading the way.
I’m in the throng of bodies just as fast, as if I’m moving on autopilot. Following the pull of the metaphorical string I tried so desperately to cut.
He’s right fucking there.
And my chest is aching .
Calling after its other half, desperate to be whole once again.
Who was I kidding?
It’ll only ever be him.
“Jordan!”
A hand lands on my shoulder and spins me away, engulfing me in the group of fans requesting autographs and pictures.
When I come up for air, he’s gone.
Taking my heart along with him.