Coming Home (Midnight in Dallas #5)

1. McKenzie

ONE

McKenzie

“My hatred for you knows no bounds,” my friend, Kia, muttered through gritted teeth, holding her hand up like a shield to hide her face from the other patrons.

A handful of servers at Applebee’s approached her with a giant piece of chocolate cake, singing an enthusiastic rendition of “Happy Birthday.”

“You love me. Besides, you’re the one who said you wanted cake.” I popped a fry into my mouth and grinned as the rest of our table sang the last bars of the song at an obnoxiously loud volume. A few people nearby clapped before returning to their jumbo-sized margaritas, and our waiter unceremoniously plunked the plate in front of Kia with four forks before disappearing.

I reached for one, but Kia swatted my hand and shook her head, the beads in her braids swaying like a crystal chandelier.

“You’re out of your damn mind,” Kia said. “I earned this shit.”

“Can it be my pretend birthday next time?” Jen asked as Kia took a bite, closing her eyes and letting out a satisfied moan.

Ravi’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “What exactly is in that cake?”

“Pure ecstasy,” Kia garbled around a mouthful of chocolate. “That right there is better than sex.”

I jutted out my chin. “See. You can’t be that mad at me.”

“Oh, I can,” Kia teased, sliding a fork over to me. “But go ahead and have a bite. God knows you aren’t getting anything resembling ecstasy any other way.”

I elbowed her hard in the ribs. “I hate you.”

“Love you,” she sang as Ravi and Jen grabbed the remaining silverware. “Dig in, knuckleheads.”

“So how old are you on this pretend birthday, anyway?” Ravi winked. “Twenty-nine and holding?”

“Fuck that shit.” Kia narrowed her dark eyes, framed by oversized teal glasses. “I’ve earned every single one of my years. I’m fifty-nine and looking mighty fine, if I do say so myself.”

Kia’s deep brown skin shimmered gold against her hot-pink suit. She owned a trendy boutique in East Nashville, and her impeccable fashion sense regularly made people assume she was at least a decade younger.

“Fuck yeah, you are.” Jen dug her fork into the cake.

“So, where is it you’re going after this?” Kia asked, poking me with a long almond-shaped nail.

“Oooh, do you have a date?” Ravi asked.

I snorted. “No. My friend Katie’s hosting a game night.”

Jen tucked her sleek blonde bob behind her ears. “That’s the owner of the restaurant where you work, right?”

“Yep,” I answered. “She’s been having them once a month since spring.”

Kia dug in her purse for her lipstick. “That sounds fun.”

It had taken some prodding on Katie’s part to get me to go, but I’d actually ended up having a good time.

“And are you coming to group next month?” Ravi asked, his chestnut eyes peering at me cautiously.

I tensed and dropped my gaze to my lap. “I don’t know. Work’s been crazy. It’s hard for me to make it out there.”

“Liar,” Kia said. Despite the quip, her voice was soft and not the least bit accusatory.

“It’s hard.” Jen gave me a sad, knowing smile. “We get it.”

Ravi cleared his throat. “How many years will it be?”

“Fifteen,” I managed through the lump in my throat, picking at a loose string on the rip of my jeans. That was also how old I was when I lost him. Knowing that the days without him would soon outnumber the ones I got to love him suffocated me. I couldn’t think about it without my hands getting clammy.

“You should come,” Kia urged. “It’ll be good for you.”

“Or if you don’t want to come, maybe we could all skip out and do something together,” Ravi suggested. “Just the four of us.”

My chest tightened. Ravi and Jen hadn’t missed a single group meeting in three years. It had been a lifeline for them after losing their fifteen-year-old son. And I understood because for a long time, it had been the same for me. But the closer I got to this anniversary, the more weathered the threads holding me together became. One small gust of wind could scatter all the pieces of my heart I’d spent years trying to reassemble.

I was supposed to be making progress—not going backward.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Kia said. “It can be your birthday next time.”

The walls of the restaurant pushed in on me like two pieces of bread, and I was the peanut butter in the middle oozing out.

“Or we can all come over,” Ravi suggested. “Bring cake and tequila.”

“And movies,” Jen added. “We can watch your favorite.”

“I thought you hated Speed ,” I said.

“I do,” Jen replied. “But I love you.”

Kia arched a brow. “And Keanu.”

“I guess he’s okay,” Jen said with a wave of her hand.

I laughed, and the walls retreated.

“I’ll think about it,” I agreed before tugging on my jacket. “I better get going. I’m supposed to be at Katie’s by seven thirty, and I told her I’d pick up some beer on the way.”

“Is the taillight on your truck still working okay?” Ravi asked as I got to my feet.

“It is.” I smiled. “Thanks to you.”

“See you next month?” Kia asked.

“It’s your turn to pick.” Jen’s nose was already scrunched with preemptive disappointment, knowing exactly what restaurant I would select.

I pretended to consider my options. “Olive Garden it is, then.”

Jen faked a gag, and I tossed a wave over my shoulder as I headed out.

It was late September, which was code for still summer in Nashville. But the nights had turned cooler with the promise of golden autumn sunsets, horror movies, and decaying leaves. My brain wanted to love fall, but my heart never let me forget why I couldn’t. It sensed the chill in the air long before the temperatures dropped. It was the kind of bone-deep cold no amount of blankets or heat could ever remedy.

The kind that came from losing the one person who was supposed to be by my side through every season of my life.

“You made it!” Katie beamed while welcoming me inside through the back door, her honey-colored ponytail bobbing. Voices from her living room filtered into the small kitchen, and my breath quickened. Even though I’d been to these game nights before, I still got nervous every single time.

“Got the last two they had.” I held up the six-packs of Lovebird beer I’d gotten from Jackalope Brewing Company because I knew it was Katie’s favorite.

“McKenzie!” Her boyfriend Dallas pulled me into his tattoo-covered arms for a bear hug as though we hadn’t all seen each other hours before at work. “You brought brewskis!”

I wrinkled my nose and made no effort to return his embrace. “No-ski. I brought beer. Because I’m not an overgrown frat boy.” My mouth quirked as I turned to Katie. “Literally, how do you put up with him?”

“You love me,” Dallas said, going back to putting the finishing touches on the charcuterie boards they’d made.

“I love you like I love tequila, Tommy Lee,” I quipped, using the nickname I’d bestowed on him because he was a former drummer. “In small doses.” That wasn’t entirely true. I had come to enjoy working with Dallas almost as much as I loved working with Katie. He got on my damn nerves most of the time, but he had an almost brotherly quality to him that I liked. The thought sent an icy chill down my spine, and I took a step back.

I cleared my throat. “So, is everyone else already here?”

“Yeah,” Katie answered, pulling her phone from her back pocket and tapping across the screen. “Everyone but Luca.”

If I hadn’t seen the guy who was Dallas’ former bandmate with my own two eyes at our friend Ella’s wedding last year, I would seriously question if Katie had made him up. They’d invited him to every single game night, but as far as I knew, he hadn’t so much as sent a text to say he couldn’t come. What an asshole. Even I had more manners than that.

Dallas tugged on her shirtsleeve. “You left him a message earlier, Butter Bean. That’s all you can do.”

“Maybe I’ll just try one more time. It can’t hurt, right?” Katie brought the phone to her ear, her hazel eyes glittering with hope for mere seconds before disappointment cast a shadow over them.

Her shoulders sagged as she dropped her hands to her sides. “His voicemail box is full.”

“Hey. It’s okay.” I reached out and squeezed her arm, annoyed with this jackass for daring to hurt the sweetest person I’d ever known. “We’re still gonna have fun.”

She nodded. “I know. I’m just worried. It’s been forever since any of us have heard from him.”

“Like, how long?” I asked.

“Since the grand opening of the restaurant,” she said. “Remember he sent those flowers? I sent him a text to say thank you, and he told me then he was doing some traveling. We haven’t heard from him since. He didn’t even come see Ella last month after…you know…”

She trailed off, and I jerked my head back. “ Seriously? Shit. Is the guy dead or something?”

Katie flinched, and I immediately wished I could shove the words back in my mouth.

“This is just how Luca is,” Dallas explained. “He won’t be found unless he wants to be. There’s a reason he’s the only member of Midnight in Dallas who didn’t move here. He likes his space.”

“Even still,” I said, “it’s kind of shitty not to let anyone know he’s okay. He has to realize you guys are worried.”

Dallas shrugged. “This isn’t the first time he’s disappeared, though it is the longest. After the band’s first tour, he skipped out of the country to Amsterdam for a month and nobody heard a peep from him. And he’s definitely ignored our calls plenty of times. He’ll come around eventually. He always does.”

“Are you guys coming or what?” Katie’s loudmouthed friend Caesar hollered from the living room, and I rolled my eyes.

“No,” I shouted back.

“Is that McKenzie James?” His shout was tinged with a smile.

“No,” I said again. “It’s your worst nightmare.”

A chorus of laughter followed before he said, “It is McKenzie!”

I tugged on Katie’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go kick Caesar's ass at Pictionary.”

She gave me a tight smile. “Okay.”

Dallas lifted his brows and pointed at me. “But you can’t just draw dicks for everything this time.”

I held my hands up like a criminal caught in the act. “I make no promises.”