Chapter 4 #3
“I shouldn’t have come out tonight.”
I kept my eyes on the yellow lines of the road and drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. “I didn’t mean to fuck up your night.”
She shook her head. “No. You didn’t. I just—” Her voice broke off, and she sucked in a thick breath, hands coming up to scrub her face. “I have so much work to do tomorrow, and I already know I’m going to be so fucking hungover.”
“Do you want me to stop and get you a big greasy bag of tacos?” I asked, and she groaned, a nearly inhuman sound that broke into a laugh.
“No. I could puke just thinking about it.”
I risked a glance at her, and her eyes met mine. “What can I do, then?”
“Nothing.” I could feel her watching me. “Not unless you can make a four-tiered cake with iridescent sprinkles and rainbow icing.”
“Well.” I laughed as I ran my palm over my jaw. “I’m not sure I’d make it look good, but I could give it a shot.”
“Unfortunately, you would probably make it look good,” she grumbled. “You’re annoyingly good at everything.”
“I’m not.” I chuckled, but her words hit me in my gut. “There are so many things I’m not good at.”
“Name one.” She turned in her seat, her knee brushing against the center console.
“Bowling. I’m a terrible bowler.”
“Bullshit.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’ve bowled with you before. You beat everyone. Try again. I want a real answer.”
“You.” I said it before I could stop myself. “I’m not good at you.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Her voice had an edge now.
“It means I’ve been a pretty shitty friend lately,” I forced out, my voice a low rasp. “I can’t ever seem to get it right with you.”
She was quiet for a long moment, and I could feel my pulse in my throat, in my wrists, everywhere. I tapped the turn signal, even though the road ahead stretched empty, and turned onto Main Street.
We were almost to her bakery, and I didn’t want to let her go. I wanted to keep driving past her place, past the edge of town, out onto the fields where every acre could swallow us whole, and nobody would know that this wasn’t supposed to happen.
Instead, I slowed at the curb, killing the headlights and letting the engine idle while the quiet poured over us.
She broke the silence first. “You’re not a bad friend.”
I let my head fall back against the seat and turned to find her watching me. She’d done the same, our profiles facing each other in the dark.
“And you don’t owe me anything, Calloway.”
“I didn’t call you Ella’s shadow.” The words rushed out of me before I could swallow them back, my voice dropping to a whisper that filled the space between us.
“It’s fine.” She shook her head and glanced away, moonlight catching across her face.
“I told Blaire that was how your family treats you. But, Maggie—”
Her eyes found mine again, wide and vulnerable in a way that made me want to protect her from everything, including myself.
“There’s a wildness in you that could never be tamed by chasing someone else’s sunshine.”
She stared at me, and the cab of my truck felt too small. I hated how careful I had to be with my hands, every muscle in my arms drawn tight. One wrong move and I’d drag her across the console and finally let her see what she did to me.
I fucking ached with the wanting, and with the knowledge that I could try for the rest of my life and it still wouldn’t be enough to make her see herself the way I did.
There was a fire blooming in her eyes despite the way her hands trembled in her lap. “You can’t say things like that to me, Hunter.” Her voice shook, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.
“It’s the truth,” I said, softer now, and she let out a bitter laugh.
“It’s cruel,” she whispered, and this time when her eyes met mine, she didn’t try to shield the hurt that lived there. “I should go. I need to get some sleep.”
She pulled the handle and swung the passenger door open. The dome light flickered on, spilling pale gold over her, and I climbed out of my side before her feet even hit the pavement.
She was halfway to her door when I caught up with her. She passed the bakery entrance and made her way to the side door that led up to her apartment. She shoved her key into the lock, but before she unlocked it, she turned to me, her back pressing against the door.
“Good night, Hunter. Thank you for the ride home.” Her hair spilled over her shoulders, and it took every ounce of control not to bury my hands in it and force her to meet my eyes.
I needed to remind myself why this was a bad idea. But all I could see was her, lit up in the washed-out streetlight while she glared at my chest like she wanted to both scream at me and beg me to kiss her.
And I’d never wanted to give in to temptation more in my entire life.
I braced my hand on the doorframe above her head and forced myself to breathe. The sweet hit of liquor and Maggie’s perfume shorted out every sensible thought I had.
Walk away, Hunter.
“Good night, Mags,” I said, but I still didn’t move.
It would have been so easy to close the inches between us and put us both out of our misery. Instead, I just stood there, my hand braced above her head, chin dipped so all I had to do was tilt forward and taste the cherry flush of her lips.
Maggie stared at my mouth like she was memorizing the shape of it, her eyes hooded and wild as her chest heaved against mine with every shallow breath.
“Night, Calloway.” Her voice hit low, barely more than a hush.
Then she turned, her hand trembling as she opened the door, and she slipped inside. She looked back at me once, her green eyes enough to gut me, before she closed the door.
I leaned my forehead against the door, my lungs burning with each ragged inhale.
Every rule I’d ever made for myself crashed against the wood between us.
I’d spent years doing the right thing, and right now, with her scent still clinging to my shirt, doing right felt like the cruelest punishment I’d ever endured.