21
I WAS NAKEDand kneeling, my shins aching against the floor.
“Millen.” Mack brushed his hand through my hair, his voice shooting straight to my core, driving heat in between my legs.
“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” I nodded as he pressed his index finger under my chin, tilting my gaze up at him. “I’ve always wanted this.”
He was sitting on Abe’s desk in the middle of the Four Points office, a glass of champagne in his other hand. “I want you to—”
“Sorry, honey, but we’ve gotta check vitals.” A voice yanked me out of sleep, followed by the scraping sound of a curtain being abruptly dragged open.
I was not naked and on my knees, ready and willing to do whatever Mack asked. No, I was a sweaty mess, my head lodged against the hospital chair’s wooden arm, my back knotted like a tangled necklace from my awkward sleeping position. I flopped myself up to sit, heart still pounding from my dream, and found Sam scraping lime green Jell-O out of a plastic cup, chatting with a very tall nurse who stood next to her, studying the blood pressure machine that was attached to her arm.
“Hello, sunshine,” Sam said from her bed.
“I’ve been out for a while, huh.” I gingerly patted my hair; it crunched in my fingers like a pile of twigs and dead leaves. This was now my third day in New Hampshire, and I hadn’t even cracked open my little container of travel shampoo yet, much less stepped into the shower. At this point I wasn’t sure when I’d last brushed my teeth.
Sam nodded. “Nick and Trey came in a little while ago and you didn’t even budge.”
“Jesus.” I stretched my arms overhead, letting out a huge yawn. “I’m surprised they didn’t try to draw on me with a permanent marker.”
“Oh, believe me, Nick considered it. But I sent them home.”
The nurse shuffled around Sam, making little notes on his clipboard.
“They left?” I asked, blinking a few more times as the clock on the wall slowly came into focus; it was just after nine in the morning.
She nodded. “Everyone headed back to shower and get some food. Don’t worry, your ride is waiting for you.”
“My ride?” I asked, though I knew she meant Mack, the thought of him cranking my eyes open just a bit more.
“Oh, come on, Clare-bear, don’t play dumb. You know who I mean.”
“I’ll stay,” I said quickly, but Sam just leveled a no-bullshit look back at me in response.
“I’m fine now, I swear,” she insisted. “Eloise is heading back here in a bit, and she left me with that monster romance book she just finished. I’m dying to find out what it’s like to sleep with a werewolf.”
Sam waved a thick paperback in my face, a ripped, hairy torso greeting me on the cover.
“I feel like the claws would get in the way of things,” I pondered.
“Lots of scratching,” Sam agreed, poking her tongue at me.
The nurse’s eyes darted up from his clipboard at this, brows cocked, and then quickly returned to his notes.
“I want you to text me immediately if anything even feels remotely off,” I said. “Promise?”
She sent me off with an air kiss, and I stumbled out into the fluorescent-lit hallway. With little sleep and no coffee, I only felt half alive, and I dragged myself toward the lobby like a zombie on the hunt for brains, reading my texts through crusty, tired eyes.
There were a bunch of messages on our Pine Lake group chat about Sam, and a frantic need for coffee. Then one from Lydia that just read Stop working—you’re on a playcation!
But her text only amped me back up, reminding me of that new idea excitement that had buzzed through me just hours earlier.
I’d drafted an entire proposal on my phone, complete with anecdotes of my own time at Pine Lake to really sell the creative angle. All I needed to do now was get it formatted and sent off to Amaya. I hadn’t felt this sensation in so long—the giddiness, that pure love for the work that I did. The thrill of it quickly switched me from exhausted to wide awake as I rounded the corner into the emergency room lobby.
My body noticed Mack before my brain did, my skin prickling with awareness at the sight of him. He was now wearing the faded gray sweatshirt he’d been using as a sleeping mask, and his hair was utter chaos. But he stood with a serious look on his face, arms crossed, listening intently as a boy in a wheelchair waved his hands excitedly, mid-story.
“Hey!” I called, and he glanced up as the doors clicked behind me, his face registering me with a flicker of a smile.
“Millen,” he said, waving me closer. “I want you to meet someone.”
“Good morning,” I said as I gave the kid in front of him an awkward wave.
“This is Travis.” He bumped the kid’s shoulder affectionately with a rap of his knuckles. “Pine Lake Camp waterskiing all-star. And his dad, Bruce.”
Travis was grinning up at Mack with the eyes of someone gazing at his idol. Bruce waved hello with a weary shake of his hand. Both he and his son were splattered with dried mud.
“Travis was just telling me about falling off his mountain bike this morning,” Mack said.
“I hit a tree root and flew over the handlebars!” he exclaimed like it was a massive accomplishment. “I thought I could walk it off, but my ankle’s broken.”
“We’re waiting to hear from the doctor if he needs surgery,” Bruce added, his voice much less enthusiastic. “This kid nearly gave me a heart attack this morning.”
Travis shrugged, still beaming. “I thought it was awesome.”
Mack bit back a laugh, pressing his fist against his mouth.
“Bruce here has handled all the exterior painting at Pine Lake for the last few years,” Mack explained. “He’s the reason everything looks so nice every summer.”
“Ah, he’s just blowing smoke up my ass.” Bruce dismissed him with another wave of his hand, but I could tell by the smile that flickered across his face that he appreciated the compliment.
“He’s good at that,” I quipped.
Mack’s mouth fell open in exaggerated offense. “Hey!”
“It’s nice to meet you both,” I said. “I hope you heal up fast so you can waterski next summer.”
Travis’s face fell, and Bruce glanced at his son and then shot a look up at Mack.
“We drove by this morning on our way to the trail,” he explained, clearly choosing his words carefully. “I texted my friend who’s in real estate and got the dirt.”
“Oh,” I said as realization hit—they’d seen the SOLD sign in front of camp.
“Don’t worry, buddy. We’re going to figure something out.” Mack’s voice was upbeat, but his jaw shifted slightly, a hint of tension. Travis nodded, and his smile returned; clearly, Mack’s word was gold to him.
“Let me know what the surgeon says?” Mack asked, and Bruce nodded before offering him a fist bump.
“Will do, man. Appreciate it.”
“Travis.” Mack reached a hand toward him as if he was about to share a high five, but what followed was some sort of secret handshake, a series of slaps and gestures that ended with Mack and Travis both miming playing the trumpet.
“That was impressive,” I said as we waved our goodbyes and walked toward the exit.
“They’re shockingly easy to remember after you’ve done them, like, fifty times,” he said nonchalantly. “I can make one up with you if you want, Millen. You know, if you’re jealous.”
“What, do you have a secret handshake with every camper?” I asked, half joking.
But Mack simply shrugged, a wistful look on his face as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Just about.”
He smiled as he said this, because—I realized—Mack smiled at everything. His lips curled up slightly more on the right side when he teased me, and they grew to a huge grin when he was genuinely laughing. They parted slightly when he looked at me like he wanted to tear my clothes off, his teeth grazing the edge of his bottom lip. And when he was sad, truly crestfallen like he was now, the edges of his mouth tugged tight across his face, in a thin, flat line.
I loved Mack’s smiles. But this one, I couldn’t stand. It ate at me as we drove in silence again, Mack fiddling with the radio until some sports talk channel came in through the static. I looked down at the Alewife notes I’d typed out on my phone hours ago, trying to get my mind back on work, but I couldn’t shake the thought of Mack’s face, the way he lit up like a sunbeam at Travis.
We were alone again, and the heat of last night—the way his lips had melted against my skin—came rushing back to me in a wave of fizzy nerves. It didn’t help that my subconscious had been colluding with my libido, telegraphing Mack make-out sessions as I’d slept. Part of me wanted to demand he pull over on the side of the road, wrap my arms around his neck, and yank him on top of me, right here in the passenger seat. But the sadness that had settled around him since talking with Travis called to another part of me entirely.
“You should buy Pine Lake,” I blurted out.
“Huh?” He shot me a confused glance before turning back to the road.
“You should try to buy Pine Lake,” I said adamantly. “Fuck this glamping developer. You’d be the perfect person to run the camp and keep it as it is, as it should be. Talk to Steve and Marla about it. I bet they’d say yes.”
I studied him, searching for some sort of hint of a reaction. Finally, he reached across the console, pulling at my sleeve until my hand was free and wrapped in his own, warm and secure.
“It’s complicated, Millen. Also, the guy is offering all cash. And I’ve already promised my parents I’d start training with them this fall. It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Stop being so goddamn practical,” I teased, curling my knees up onto the seat as he let out a satisfied chuckle. “That sounds frighteningly similar to something I would say.”
“What’s wrong with that?” His voice was low and sultry, and it hit me like oil on a hot pan. “I like the things that come out of your mouth. Especially the stuff you were saying to me last night.”
I cleared my throat. “Maybe we can find a time to, you know.”
“Keep making things weird?” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, eyes firmly on the road in front of him. If I didn’t know better, I’d assume he was nervous. But this was Mack; nothing ever fazed him. But the more his fingers tapped against the worn leather, the more I wondered.
“I’ll check my calendar,” I said finally, attempting a joke as my breath hitched, my body remembering what it had felt like to have his lips on my skin. “See if I have the time.”
“I’m pretty sure your assistant cleared it, remember?” His eyes didn’t budge, but the corners of his mouth twitched. “I’ll have to make sure she pencils me in. I’ll need at least a day.”
Oh god. We weren’t just talking about kissing again, we were planning on it. And maybe—no, definitely—hinting at more.
My brain started scrambling, searching for some way out of this conversation. “First you have to accept this.”
I dug around my pocket and sighed with relief when I found what I was looking for. “Here. A vote of confidence.”
I dangled the medal in front of him and then draped it over his rearview mirror.
“Oh, I see what you’re doing, Millen.” He chuckled. “This is all just part of your long con. You’re trying to woo me, and then when my guard is down—bam!—you pass the medal back to me.”
“Nope.” I swiped my palms together with a smack. “No more passing this thing back and forth just to bug each other. This medal has a new meaning.”
“Huh,” he said, his skepticism exaggerated for comedic effect, brows raised. “Okay, so what does it stand for now? Sexiest Camp Waterfront Director? Longest Running Crush of Clara Millen’s Life?”
“I’m trying to be serious right now, Mackenzie Sullivan,” I scolded, giving him a cross look.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m listening,” he said with a pat on my leg.
“What I’m saying is that I think you’re great,” I continued. “And I’m rooting for you. Just, in general. In life. For your happiness and success and all the things you want to do.”
The words came out sappier than I intended, and I sat there quietly as they lingered between us. Normally I’d try to deflect, or self-deprecate, anything to try to lighten the conversation, steer it away from this serious, heavy place. But I didn’t feel like changing the subject right now. I wanted Mack to know that whatever was happening between us, there was something deeper occurring, too, something that had always been there, since the day we met.
I cared about him.
Mack’s cheeks flushed as he glanced at me for a moment. “Thanks, Millen,” he said finally, his hand sliding up my thigh until it found mine with a squeeze. “I’m rooting for you too.”