4. Chapter 4
Talmage
M y hands are trembling as I sit next to Mack, trying to figure out how to be smooth about this.
She didn’t hesitate to sit next to me on the couch, scooting over until our thighs were smooshed together. She said it was to make room for our friends, but I don’t believe her.
She looks cute in her red skinny jeans and black and white shirt with a heart on it.
It’s fitting, since I’m pretty sure she’s stolen mine.
I put my arm down by my side, trying to nonchalantly move my hand closer to where hers is resting palm up, like she’s waiting for me to make a move.
Taking a deep breath, I hover my hand over the top of hers.
She shocks me by meeting me halfway.
Our fingers intertwine, and my pulse picks up as sparks sizzle between us.
It feels so right.
Tayleigh is not the one. Just as I suspected.
But I did try , and I’m giving my all on this date. Tayleigh deserves my effort at least.
She’s cute, I’ll give her that. Long, blonde hair curled to perfection and blue eyes. She’s got a bright white smile and perfectly manicured fingernails.
Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I’d think we were related. Who knows, we might be somewhere down the line.
I decided to take her to a casual burger place for our date because I wanted to be able to talk and get to know her, and this place is really good.
I thought it would be cute to maybe share a milkshake, but she told me she was “still recovering from the holiday fifteen” and didn’t want to bloat from the dairy.
I can respect someone who wants to look after their health, but this feels like diet culture and not a health thing. What is the “holiday fifteen” anyway?
To further my suspicions she’s under diet culture’s grip, she ordered a salad with no dressing and refused to share an order of cheese fries—and the cheese fries here are the best. I assured her I wouldn’t judge her if she wanted to eat something other than a salad, and she just brushed me off.
More cheese fries for me, I guess.
We’re halfway through our meal, and so far, I’m not vibing with her.
She’s smart and knows a lot about current social media trends and how to get more engagement, but she still has so much life to live.
I feel like we’re at two very different places in our lives, which is blatantly obvious by the phrases she uses and her goals.
She talks about parties she’s been to, the latest makeup trends, and her new job. All great things, but I’m not interested in parties. I’m interested in settling down and starting a family.
I’m determined to make the most of this date, even if I already know there won’t be another one. I’m in the middle of telling her one of my stories from my brief stint as a hotshot when the bell above the door rings, and a flash of red hair catches my attention.
In walk Mack and her sisters. The three of them are talking quietly as they make their way to a table diagonal from where I’m sitting.
As Mack sets her stuff down, she looks around the small restaurant, and her eyes snag on me.
She does a double take, and I lift my fingers in a small wave.
She hesitantly waves back, then turns and walks to the counter to order.
I don’t know why my heart is racing so fast or why it suddenly feels like I want to burst into song, but I shake off the strange sensations as Tayleigh’s voice pulls me back to reality.
“Talmage? Are you okay? You stopped mid-sentence.”
“Yeah.” Does my voice sound high pitched? “I just remembered I need some ranch for the fries. I’ll be right back.”
I get up and stand behind Mack in line. Her voice is soft but friendly as she orders, and for some reason, it gives me goosebumps .
When she’s done, she turns around and startles when she sees me behind her. Her big green eyes widen, then blink up at me before she looks down, mutters, “Excuse me,” and tries to walk around me.
“Hey, Mack. Did you get your car back?” I ask, desperately needing to hear her voice.
She turns halfway back to me before she says, “Yes.”
“That’s good. I’m glad… How are you?”
Her brows furrow, and she glances around like she’s checking to make sure I’m talking to her and not someone else. “I’m fine, thanks. How are you?”
“Great, yeah. Can’t complain.” I don’t know what else to say, but I want to keep talking to her. “Celebrating something tonight?”
She glances back at her sisters, and when she turns back her mouth is set in a small smile. “Kinsley made it to the state level for her science fair project, so we’re celebrating.”
I can’t help the grin that spreads over my face. “That’s awesome. What was her project on?”
Mack shifts from one foot to the other and scratches her head. “I honestly don’t know how to explain it. Something with sugar energy, I think? She’s better at explaining it. I’ve never been good at science stuff.”
I hold back the nostalgic smile wanting to break free. Mack complained endlessly about biology our freshman year. That and math were her least favorite classes. “Nice. Well, tell her congrats.”
“Will do. I’ll, uh, let you get back to your date. Bye.”
I honestly forgot Tayleigh was waiting for me, and it makes me feel like crap. Tayleigh and I may not be a good match, but she doesn’t deserve to be ditched on a date .
“Right, yeah. See you around.”
I head back to my table, and Tayleigh sets her phone down when I take my seat. “Did you get your ranch?”
“Huh?”
“Your ranch?” she says slowly. “The whole reason you went up to the counter?”
“Oh. No, they were out.” Guilt swirls in my stomach at the lie. Tayleigh doesn’t deserve lies either, but what am I supposed to say? “I just wanted to talk to my ex-girlfriend because something is pulling me to her?”
My eyes trail over to Mack’s table as their food is brought out, and Tayleigh follows my line of sight.
“Doesn’t she know it’s not healthy to be eating stuff like that?” She shakes her head. “Her cortisol levels are probably insane. I think she’d be so pretty if she just lost the extra weight.”
What?
My jaw goes slack, my hands pausing with my burger halfway to my mouth.
“I’m sorry?”
“I just mean she has a pretty face, but it’s obvious she doesn’t care about her health. She would be a lot prettier if she weren’t, ya know, big. Or had those things through her nose. No man wants a woman who doesn’t take care of herself.”
“That’s really, really mean. You can’t know if someone is healthy or not based on how they look.
” I don’t think Tayleigh would appreciate me telling her I think Mack is gorgeous as she is.
Everything about her—from her eyes to her lips, to the messy waves of her hair and her generous curves—is absolutely breathtaking .
Tayleigh rears back as if I’ve slapped her. “You can’t be serious. Look at what she’s eating! Clearly, health isn’t a priority.”
“I’m eating more than she is. Does that make me unhealthy?”
Tayleigh’s cheeks turn pink as her gaze wanders over me. “Well, no. You’re a firefighter, so you’re obviously very fit.”
“Regardless of my job, you’re not judging me for my food choices, so maybe you shouldn't judge her based on that either.”
She looks like she wants to argue but doesn’t. She just picks at her sad, bland lettuce and carrot mixture while I finish my burger.
When I take Tayleigh home, I tell her that while I had fun, I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other again. I don’t kiss her goodnight or feel the excitement and anticipation when you have a crush.
When I get home, I take Siren out to do her business and spend the whole time thinking about Mack. She still seemed guarded when I was talking to her. Maybe it’s because she wanted to get back to celebrating with her sisters, but I can’t help feeling like it’s something else.
Well, you broke her heart and haven’t seen her in over a decade. You’re not exactly BFFs.
Right, that makes a lot of sense .
Thinking about her does give me the excited anticipation you feel when you have a crush. I want to see her. I want to spend more time with her. I want to reacquaint myself with Mackenzie Thorpe and hear about what her life’s been like the last ten years. Find out what’s changed and what’s the same.
When I finally get in bed, I check to see if she’s accepted my follow request. I can’t help but break out into a grin when I see she has.
It looks like a lot of her posts are old, before her parents’ accident.
Pictures of her in tattoo chairs and showing off the designs she’s had permanently etched into her skin.
I scroll until I get to a picture of her at the beach dated six years ago. Her hair is purple in the photo, and she’s wearing an electric blue bikini that leaves very little to the imagination. My face flushes, and I know I should scroll past, but I can’t seem to make myself.
I take in the softness of her round belly and the dips of her hips where the string of her bikini sits.
I’m enthralled by the colorful artwork covering her thick thighs and the way her breasts seem to spill out of the triangles barely covering them.
Her smile is wide and radiant, the nose rings glint in the sun, and her hair is thrown into two messy braids, her skin is pink from the sun and—
I throw my phone on the bed like it’s on fire. I try to think of fire drills, the way my grandpa used to eat corn, and cleaning up Siren’s poop.
When none of that works, I resort to singing hymns like I was taught to do on my mission to try to push away the arousal threatening to take me over. The trick works, but instead of lust I feel a slimy, icky sensation as the words pop up in my brain .
Even though I don’t want to be part of the church anymore, some things are so ingrained in me it’s hard to unlearn them.
Masturbation being a sin is one of those.
I’ve never given in to any of those urges—never really had them if I’m being honest—but the picture of Mack is tempting me to touch myself.
When I finally feel like I have control over my lust, I pick my phone back up and exit the app. No more scrolling through Mack’s photos while I’m alone.