Chapter Seven #2
“Good work today,” I tell him, trying my hand at civility, which is harder than it should be where he’s concerned. But he’s been on his best behavior today, so it’s the least I can do.
“You too.” He stands when I do.
“As if. I was abysmal today.”
“You were not.” He shakes his head, a smile toying at his mouth.
“I was. But thank you for saying otherwise.”
“Same time tomorrow?” He rocks back on his heels.
“Actually, I can’t tomorrow. Can you do Wednesday?”
“That should be okay.”
“I think it’s going to rain Wednesday and Thursday, so we should bet on meeting at the Rotunda. I’ll get there early to secure us a room.”
“Sounds good. Though I might be a few minutes later than I was today since I’ll have to get all the way across campus.”
“Let’s make the meeting time thirty minutes later then. That way you’ve got time to get there.” I offer.
“Sounds good to me.”
“Perfect,” I sling back over my shoulder. “I guess I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”
“Yeah, see you then.”
I feel his eyes on me as I turn and make my way up the stairs. It’s impossible to ignore the heat of his attention and how it creeps across my back, warming my entire body.
I’ve known Macallan for over two years, and in that time, I’ve never seen him act so... normal. No snarky comments. No sexual innuendos. No insults. It was like working with a completely different person, and weirdly, I’m not sure I liked it.
How could I when all those things I mentioned above are what make Macallan, Macallan? Though I do appreciate being able to get our work done without me wanting to throw myself down the hundreds of stairs leading to the field.
It’s nearly dark as I finally exit the stadium, so I quicken my steps. Not that I’m not a stranger to walking home after dark by myself. I’ve done it so many times, there’s no way to keep track, but the uneasiness it fills me with never lessens.
I jog across the street before veering right onto the sidewalk, turning my head when I hear obvious footsteps behind me.
I’m both relieved and annoyed when I spot Macallan closing the distance between us.
“Why are you following me?” I hiss.
“I’m not. My apartment is in this direction too.” He waves his hand in the general direction of where he lives. “Or would you prefer I wait at the stadium until you’re far enough to deem me an acceptable distance away?”
“That,” I state flatly, suppressing a groan when he steps up beside me only seconds after I’ve resumed walking.
“You know, you should be thanking me.” He shoves a hand through his dark hair, and I can’t stop my eyes from tracking the movement.
“Should I now?” I train my eyes forward again.
“It’s not exactly a good idea to walk around by yourself after dark.”
“One, it’s not technically dark yet. And two, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Of that I have no doubt. Even still, I think it’s only right that I walk you to your dorm. You know, just to make sure you get there okay.”
“Pass.”
“Pretty sure you don’t have much choice in the matter. I’ll just follow you if you refuse.”
“Is that right?” I risk glancing in his direction again and instantly regret it when I find his eyes locked on me instead of the path in front of him. In this lighting, they look almost green.
“Free country. If I want to walk to your dorm, I will.”
“Even if I don’t want you to?”
“You don’t own the campus, so yeah.”
“Seriously, Mac.” I huff with an eye roll.
“You know, you make it very hard to be a nice guy.”
“You, a nice guy?” I bark out a humorless laugh.
“I’m not that bad.” Something in his expression gives me pause, the smile falling from my lips in an instant.
“Who are you trying to convince, you or me?”
“Maybe both.” He shrugs.
“And why do you care what I think?”
“Who says I do?” His cocky smirk returns with a vengeance.
“You’re an asshole.”
“And you are way too easy to rile,” he counters.
“I am not easily riled. I just don’t like you.”
“Who are you trying to convince, me or you?” He throws my words back at me.
“Ha. Ha,” I deadpan.
“You know, Mais, I think you’ll find I make a much better friend than I do an enemy.”
“I have no interest in being your friend.”
“And why is that?”
“You know why.”
“Do I?”
“Are you really going to play stupid?” I look both ways before crossing another street.
“I’m not playing anything. I’m genuinely curious why you hate me so much.”
“If you don’t already know, I’m certainly not going to explain it to you.”
“It has to do with what happened a couple of years ago. We hooked up and then what... I hurt your feelings because I didn’t want more?”
“Hurt my feelings?” A strangled noise scrapes its way up my throat. “You humiliated me.” I stop abruptly, spinning on my heel to face him. “You made me feel like nothing more than a common whore in front of your friends, in front of even more strangers.”
He walks a couple of more steps before realizing I’ve stopped, at which point he pivots back toward me, quickly closing the distance between us.
“I didn’t mean to humiliate you, but you were rather insistent, and I didn’t know how else to get rid of you.”
“Get rid of me!?” I throw my hands up. “You could have just told me that you... I don’t know... weren’t interested in anything beyond sex. You didn’t have to make me look like a crazy person in front of a large group of people.”
“You’re right.”
“I know I’m right. I never pressured you.
I never asked anything of you. We slept together a couple of times.
I really liked you. I thought you liked me.
So, in my mind, talking to you at a party was a completely acceptable thing to do, and yet, instead of telling me how you were feeling like a man, you hid behind your friends and made fun of me like a boy. ”
I force my mouth closed before I can say anything else. I’ve already said way more than I ever intended.
“You’re right,” he repeats a second time.
“I know!” I also repeat.
“And I’m sorry.” The genuineness of his words catches me off guard.
“You’re sorry?” I give him an apprehensive look.
“It’s no excuse, but I had a pretty bad experience with someone about a year prior that made me a little skittish. The day I lashed out at you was actually the same day I found out she had enrolled here. Honestly, it had nothing to do with you.”
“Weirdly, that doesn’t make me feel better.” I adjust my bag that suddenly feels way too heavy on my shoulder. “Not for what you did and not for how horribly you treated me after.”
“I get that.”
“Are you talking about Lana? The girl who made you skittish...” It’s an educated guess based on what he said the last and only time we spoke about her.
“She’s batshit.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Insult her for loving you.”
“Lana feels a lot of things toward me. Love isn’t one of them. She doesn’t even know me... Not really.”
“You dated during high school. I’m sure she knows you well enough.”
“No, we fucked. Once. At a party. I didn’t even know her name before then. She pursued me after that and when I told her I didn’t want more, she went psychotic and started stalking me. Trust me, she is not who you think she is.”
“I think I’ll be the judge of that,” I say, though I can’t deny his words give me pause.
“Suit yourself. Just remember, I warned you.”
“Noted.”
“Look, I can’t change what happened. I wish I could, but I can’t. All I can do is apologize and hope we can move past it.”
“And if I don’t accept?”
“I guess that’s your prerogative. Though, as I said before, I make a much better friend than I do an enemy.”
“And is that what you’re offering? Friendship...”
“Why do you say it like it tastes bad on your tongue?”
“Maybe because it does.”
“I’m trying to be the bigger person here and admit my mistakes. Is it too much to ask that you at least give me a chance to prove I’m not the villain you think I am? I was nineteen, Mais. A dumb kid with a fuck ton of growing up to do.”
“And you expect me to believe you’ve accomplished that in the last two years?”
“I’m a work in progress.” He shrugs and there’s something so endearing about the way he does it that I almost want to accept what he’s offering.
A truce. A friendship of sorts. I can’t deny that it’s enticing. But I also know what happened the last time I let my guard down around Macallan Stewart. And you know the saying... Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. And I have no desire to be the fool.
“I don’t want to be your friend,” I finally say. “But that doesn’t mean we have to be enemies either,” I admit.
“Not being enemies is definitely a start.” He smiles, and this time, the dimple on his right cheek pokes through, barely visible through his dark facial hair.
“Good.” With that, I resume walking, resisting the urge to roll my eyes when he pivots and matches me step for step. “What are you doing?”
“Walking you home.”
“I thought we established that I don’t need you to walk me home.”
“And I thought we established that we are no longer enemies, and as such, it only makes sense that I make sure you get home safely.”
“You’re already making me regret this truce,” I warn him.
“Secretly, I think you like that I want to make sure you’re safe.”
“Secretly, I think you’re delusional,” I fire back, hating that a part of him is right, even if I’d never admit it out loud.
I’m prepared for a smart-ass retort. What I’m not prepared for is his rich laughter that filters through the air like the most beautiful and melodic song I’ve ever heard.
It nearly stops me in my tracks, the sound of it.
In the two years I’ve known Mac, I can’t say I’ve ever heard him laugh—at least not like this.
“I think I’m going to like this non-friendship, friendship,” he says after a long moment.
“That makes one of us,” I mutter under my breath loud enough that I know he hears it.
Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else and we make the remainder of the walk back in silence.
It’s not as awkward as I would have expected, but it’s certainly not comfortable either.
And by the time we reach my building a few short minutes later, I practically sprint inside with no more than a wave over my shoulder, desperate to escape his presence.
Despite everything, as I make my way up to my room, I can’t help but smile to myself. A smile I quickly shake away, cursing at myself for my foolishness.
Macallan Stewart is not one to be trusted. I would do well to remember that.