21. MJ #2
“No, thank you,” he says, his tone clipped.
“If that boy is the company you’re choosing to keep, then you are choosing to spend time with him and us separately.
I just can’t stand by and watch you throw your life away getting so attached to a criminal!
” My dad shouts the last part, and I wince as my blood heats.
“He’s not!” I shout back, defending Mac, but my dad interrupts me.
“No, Emmalynn Jane! I don’t want to hear it. I thought you were smarter than this. I’ve heard the rumors—I’ve seen the furtive glances you two thought you were sneaking.” I reel back at h is admission, my face heating.
“You seemed to not let it affect your work, so I let it slide, hoping what I thought was happening wasn’t the case.
But I can see very clearly now what you’ve been hiding, and I won’t stand for it.
Go enjoy your celebration if that is what you wish to do.
Your mother and I are going home, and we can discuss this more another time. ”
He nudges my mom to get into the car and then closes the door behind her. My shoulders shake and tears threaten to fall as I watch my parents drive away.
“MJ?” Beck’s soft voice startles me, and I turn to face her. Without a word, she immediately wraps her arms around me and pulls me into her. Completely losing it, I cry into her shoulder. She pats my hair and rubs my back, soothing me and I try to pull myself together.
When I pull back, I see tear stains all down her white shirt. “Beck, I’m so sorry. I ruined your shirt.”
“Shhh, it’s just a little salt water.” She shakes her head and gives me a warm smile.
“He just . . . they just . . .” I can’t even get the words out, tears welling up again.
“I saw. It’s going to be okay, though.”
“How?” I sob, another bout of tears streaming down my face.
“Things always have a way of working out.” She wipes the tears from my face and exaggerates taking a deep breath.
I get the hint and follow suit, inhaling and exhaling with her.
“Now, let's get you cleaned up and back inside. I had to sick Austin on Mac to keep him in there, and I’m not sure how long he can hold out.”
This makes me smile, and I nod. Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that it’s a time to celebrate. The sting of rejection from my parents hurts, but I want to be there for the man I love.
“That’s my girl,” Beck says softly and then drapes her arm around my shoulder, leading me back inside.
July 18
The leather groans beneath me as I wiggle on the couch at the shop, trying to keep from losing a layer of skin.
Leather and this heat never mix well, but it’s better than sitting on concrete.
I’ve been staying at the loft with Mac for the last few days, not ready to face my parents yet.
Mom has texted a few times to check in, and I think she and I are okay, but I haven’t heard from my dad, and I’m not sure I want to.
I know I need to talk with them soon, and I can’t avoid them forever, especially since the clothes I grabbed Tuesday morning aren’t going to last me much longer.
Mac is tinkering with his third project of the day while I’ve been working on some ideas for Blake and Austin. I scroll through the templates I’ve created for their Instagram, and a sense of pride washes over me.
“What are you smiling at, baby?” Mac walks toward me, wiping his hands with a red shop rag.
“I was just looking at some social media template s I started for Blake and Austin. Something they can easily use to post regularly. They’re not great, but a start.
I know we still have to figure out branding and what vibe they’re going for but—hey!
” I cringe as Mac swipes the laptop off my lap, scrolling through the content.
“These look fantastic, MJ.”
“Really? I mean, they’re just basic templates.”
“These aren’t just basic. Maybe we can work on some stuff for the shop? Finally, make an Insta for it?” He asks.
My cheeks hurt as I beam up at him, nodding. “Yes! Oh, my god, I could take so many pictures of you working on cars—that would definitely be a good advertisement! The bookstagram girlies would probably repost the shit out of your stuff.”
He chuckles and shakes his head as he hands my laptop back.
As he walks to the mini fridge in the corner, he offers me a water. Handing one to me, he takes a seat next to me on the couch. I set my laptop on the coffee table and pull out my phone, checking Facebook and then Instagram.
“Oh, honey! Guess what movie they’re showing tomorrow.” I smack his arm gently as he groans and rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on! It’s a classic! You love this movie too.”
“They’re playing Ferris Bueller ?” he asks. I laugh, shaking my head. “Babe, that sixty-one Spyder in that movie was sick!” I laugh harder. There’s my grease monkey nerd coming out.
“Mac, no. We used to watch this one all the time over the summer.” His face is blank, so I try a hint. “You’re killin’ me smalls!”
“Just tell me then, goofy!” My jaw drops because he didn’t even pick up the very-obvious hint.
“I just did.” He looks at me like I have two heads. “ The Sandlot !”
“Okay, wow. That phrase is a regular saying now. How was I to know you were quoting the movie?”
Rolling his eyes, he leans into my space, grabbing my thigh and pressing in on each side with his thumb and forefinger. I squeal and wiggle, trying to get away from the tickle attack.
“Stop,” I whine while still trying to escape. Mac slides his hand up my thigh, no longer tickling but squeezing gently. I lean toward him, meeting him part of the way, and press my lips to his.
“So, I’m guessing you want to go tomorrow night?
” he asks. I nod enthusiastically. Mac scrubs his hand down his face.
“Alright. But can we sit in the back? I’m sure I will be the hot topic tomorrow, and I don’t know if I can deal, but I don’t want to ruin the night for you if you really want to go. ”
I lean into him and kiss him again, sliding my hands up his chest and around his neck. “Yeah, we can sit in the back and sneak out if the town can’t keep their mouths shut.”
He rests his forehead against mine and nods.
Now that the trial is over, I’d hoped things would settle down, but maybe Mac is right—maybe the town will continue to talk about him for who knows how long.
I’ve always hated the town rumor mill. People are always so quick to talk about others behind their backs.
It’s a small t own; we should celebrate small wins and support each other. Not cut them down every chance we get.