Chapter 21 Penny
21
PENNY
“You’re dangerous,” Mac said, his voice low and rough as he leaned across the bar. His face hovered just inches from mine, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his skin.
I’d slipped away from the dance floor a little while ago, leaving Ellie and Aspen to carry on without me. I could’ve stayed, continued the torture. Instead, I found myself gravitating back to the bar, back to him.
The crowd had thinned, the noise dulled into the background. It was just quiet enough that Mac could give me his full, undivided attention—and God, did I drink it in.
I liked the way he looked at me like I was a mystery he wanted to get lost in. Every time he laughed, every time his hand brushed close to mine, it was like lighting a match to something already smoldering.
Before everything fell apart, before the heartbreak and the silence, we lived in this tension. A charged kind of dance, a will-they-won’t-they that stretched on for months.
Me—showing up to the bar dressed to turn heads, but only ever wanting to catch his eye.
Him—leaning across the counter, eyes trailing down my body, never making a move.
Not until the Halloween party.
Not until everything changed.
Mac had always been magnetic. With him, it never felt like a choice. We were two ends of a live wire, sparking when we got too close. I’d never felt anything like it—not before, not since.
“But you love it,” I murmured, letting my voice dip into something low and sweet. I sat straighter, resting my chin in my palm, my elbow balanced delicately on the polished wood of the bar. For good measure, I fluttered my lashes. Slowly. Deliberately.
He let out a soft, almost pained laugh. “Those damn eyes,” he muttered, gaze flicking between them, like he couldn’t decide which one to get lost in first. “They could bring any man to his knees, Penelope.”
My name from his lips did something to me.
“Oh?” I arched a brow, letting my lips curl. “You? On your knees for me?”
The image hit me hard.
Mac, on the floor, eyes dark and reverent, staring up at me like I was the center of his universe. My fingers in his messy hair, the tips of my fingers dragging across his shoulder, circling him while he waited. Watched. Worshipped.
A shiver rolled down my spine, goosebumps rising beneath the thin fabric of my top.
My pulse thundered in my ears.
“Come back to me,” Mac whispered, his voice like smoke, and when I blinked, I realized he was even closer now. Just a breath away.
Too close.
I closed my eyes, just for a second. A heartbeat. A breath. I needed to break the spell before I drowned in it.
Before I forgot every reason we weren’t supposed to do this, not yet.
His words landed with more weight than they should have—soft and simple, but layered.
Come back to me.
Not just to the moment, but to him. To his bed, his hands, his heartbeat next to mine.
I exhaled slowly, dragging myself back from the edge of that thought. My gaze drifted to his face, familiar in every way that still made my chest ache. I studied him like I had so many times before. The subtle dusting of hair above his upper lip was new and maddeningly attractive. The faint freckles dusted across the bridge of his nose, the ones I used to trace with my fingertips, still made my stomach flip.
“Sorry,” I said, forcing a casual tone as I leaned back on my stool, putting some distance between us. It was the only way to quiet the fire that had been lit low in my belly. “I got a little distracted. I was picturing you… worshipping me.”
He didn’t flinch. Instead, Mac stood up straighter, arms folding over his chest, sleeves bunching against his tattooed arms. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing like he was dissecting every word.
“Is that what you need from me?” he asked, voice cool but laced with something darker. “Would that help fix this? Because I saw you out there on that dance floor. You were putting on a show for me, and you know it.”
I let out a low chuckle, dragging my tongue across the edge of my canine before smirking. “I just needed to remind you what you’re missing. That’s all.”
“Oh, Pen,” Mac said, almost like a breath. “You don’t need to remind me. I know exactly what I lost.”
That line and that look—the one where his eyes darkened, his lips turned up into a smirk—hit me low and hot. It wasn’t just what he said. It was the way his eyes dropped, lingering shamelessly over my chest, letting the memory of me soak in like he was starving for it. It was the way he looked at me, like he wanted to devour me and remember what it felt like to be full.
This was the Mac I remembered—the flirty, cocky charmer with a laugh like sin and a smirk that could undo me in seconds. That was the version that pulled me in, but it wasn’t the one that made me stay.
That’s what I was waiting to see now. How far was he willing to go—not just to flirt, but to fight?
“I’m not letting you off that easy,” I said, folding my arms across my chest in a move that matched his own.
His smirk deepened. “Then why don’t you stay past closing tonight?” he asked, casually pulling a cigarette from his back pocket. “Keep me company while I clean up.”
I paused.
Was this a setup? Some carefully orchestrated plan to reel me in, only to pull me straight back into his bed? Because if that’s what he thought… he had another thing coming.
I studied him sideways, arms still folded, guarded. Measuring.
He laughed, warm and unbothered. “Relax, Pen,” he said. “I’m not gonna try anything. I just want a little more time with you. That’s it. Then I’ll walk you home.”
The offer sat between us, tempting.
I had the day off tomorrow. Time wasn’t the issue. Willpower was.
I wanted to believe that this wasn’t a trap. That he just wanted to be near me again.
If I ever wanted things to find their way back to something real, trust was the first step, even if it wasn’t yet fully deserved.
“Okay,” I said at last, letting my posture soften. Mac’s smile bloomed instantly—wide and boyish, like he’d won something big.
I lifted one hand, stopping him with a raised brow. “One condition.”
“Hit me,” he said, eyes dancing.
“You have to make me that popcorn.”
His grin turned into a full-on laugh. “Penelope, I’ll make you ten bags of popcorn if it means you’ll hang out with me a little longer.”
I waited for him to shake on it. If I was going to risk staying late with him, I was damn sure getting a snack out of it.
The popcorn—seasoned with whatever black magic he worked in the kitchen—was addictive. The number of bags I’d inhaled when we were… us? Borderline shameful.
Mac’s hand landed in mine, his warm skin heated up every one of my nerves. He squeezed gently before leaning down and bringing the back of my hand to his lips, placing a kiss, his eyes still locked on mine.
The butterflies in my stomach betrayed me, fluttering and swirling as they tickled.
“Mac!” Dudley’s voice called across the bar.
He pulled back and took a few.
Mac glanced over his shoulder reluctantly. Dudley waved him over with a gesture that clearly said I need help now.
Mac looked back at me, eyes warm. “Go on, have some fun,” he said. “Looks like duty calls.”
“After my drink,” I said, lifting the glass to my lips.
He gave me a knowing smirk before turning to walk away, leaving a trail of cigarette smoke and temptation behind.
But I didn’t move from that stool.
I had no intention of dancing.
Not when I could spend the rest of the night watching him.