Chapter 7
SEVEN
Noah: I’m sorry, kid. I shouldn’t have shouted.
Ireread the message before deleting it, thumbing out three more and deleting them too. Finally, I settle on a simple one.
Noah: Did you get home okay?
I drop my phone to my chest and wait. He usually replies instantly to my messages, day or night, but this one never comes and I worry. It’s for the best if he pushes me away and gives up. I can never be what he wants, but I struggle to breathe around the idea of Mackie leaving me.
I’ll still see him every day at work. It’s not like he’ll leave forever.
If I’m honest with myself, it’s not his age that scares me or the fact that I’m his boss.
It’s that I can’t be what he wants me to be.
It’s the idea of hurting him. If there is one thing I never want to do, it’s hurt Mackie, and this will only end one way—I will break his heart.
I won’t do that to him or anyone else.
It is way too quiet as I stretch out on my bed, remembering the night he was drunk. His laughter filled the empty tomb of my house, bringing every corner to life.
He had taken his clothes off, and I had to chase him upstairs. Mackie dove into my bed, and I ended up having to tuck him in before Skylar arrived. He’d been sick all night, and I spent hours rubbing his back and taking care of him.
I liked taking care of him.
“Noah, it hurts,” he whines as he raises his head from my toilet. His hair is soaked with sweat, as well as water from the towel I press to his forehead. His skin is pale, his eyes are bloodshot, and his clothes have long since disappeared as he wraps himself tight around the porcelain bowl.
Sighing, I rub his back as he throws up again. “Shh, it’s okay. It will be over soon. Get it all out.”
He throws up on his chest, and I wince but rub his back until he’s done, then he rests his face on the toilet.
Lifting him into my arms, I ignore him as Mackie pushes against my chest. “I’m covered in vomit,” he grumbles.
“It’s fine. Just go to sleep, okay?” I respond softly as I carry him to my bed and slide him between the sheets. He looks so young in this moment, watching me with his wide eyes.
“I’m sorry.” His lip trembles, and I can’t take it.
Sitting next to him, I let him curl into my side, burying his head in my chest as I rub his back again. “It’s okay. Just don’t get this drunk next time, alright? It isn’t good for you, and if I’m not there, it isn’t safe.”
“Okay, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and I have to bite back my smile. He’s so adorable when he’s drunk.
“It’s okay, my beautiful boy,” I say, knowing he won’t remember this tomorrow. “I’m just glad you’re okay and that you called me. You can always call me. No matter what happens or where you are, I will always come.”
“You aren’t mad?”
“At you? Never,” I reply as I pull him closer. “Get some sleep.”
Nodding, he shuffles closer. I let us both have this stolen moment, our usual rules gone for just one night. It doesn’t take long for his breathing to even out and his little snores to fill the air.
Brushing his hair back, I stare at his sleeping face, and I wonder what it would be like to come home to him every day.
I know I’ll never be allowed to have that. I can’t, but for a moment, I let myself ponder that dream. If I could, I would choose for him to be my future.
If anyone was ever going to make me want to break my vow, it would be Mackie.
Opening my eyes, I roll over onto my back.
Was he right? Was I jealous tonight?
Yes. I was.
I hated how close they were, the smiles they shared, and the way they touched each other so casually.
My reaction wasn’t fair. Mackie isn’t mine, and he never will be, which means I need to let him move on.
I care about him too much to ruin his future with mine.
I just want him to be happy, but the idea that he’s mad at me destroys me.
He looked so cold and distant tonight when he walked away from me.
I hated it.
I can’t have him, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want him in my life. Maybe that’s me being selfish again. Mackie cares for me, he’s made it obvious, so if he needs to do this to move on, then shouldn’t I let him?
Groaning, I cover my face in annoyance, and for the first time since I found out what lies in my future, I wish it could be different.
I wish I could be like everyone else.
It’s been three days, and Mackie is barely speaking to me. He avoids me at all costs, going so far as to eat dinner out so he doesn’t have to sit with me. I hate every stiff reply when I try to speak to him.
The whole garage is feeling it. Everyone is on edge, and I never realized just how much Mackie affects the mood here. When he’s happy, everyone else is as well, but now he’s angry and cold, so everyone else is worried and quiet.
Leaning into the kitchen door, I watch him view his latest practice run. My heart hammers in my chest and my hands fist, so I shove them into my pockets.
I remind myself that this is good because he can move on and stop dreaming about something that can never happen.
“When are you two going to make up?” Skylar murmurs from my side, and I whirl around as he nods at Mackie. “Whatever you did, apologize.”
“Why do you think I did something?” I mutter.
“Because Mackie is a good kid and would never hurt you. He would rather hurt himself first, that’s how much he cares, so I’m guessing you fucked up again,” he answers. Despite Sky’s laid-back attitude, he’s very astute, and it’s annoying.
“It’s for the best,” I murmur to Sky.
“Is it? You both seem miserable.” When I glance at him, he sighs. “Just saying, old man, you never looked happy before Mackie, or so I’m told. Why are you working so hard to push him away?”
“Because he deserves to be happy, and I can’t give him that,” I admit.
“Says who?” he retorts. “That’s his decision, not yours.
If something hurts this badly, it’s wrong.
Sort your shit out before you lose the best thing that will ever happen to you.
Someone like Mackie doesn’t come around twice, and if you don’t love him, then someone else will, and you’ll be left with regrets and what-ifs. ”
“Not everyone gets to plan a happy future with someone they love like you, Skylar,” I warn. “It’s for the best. Just keep an eye on him for me, okay?”
“You are both stubborn idiots,” he mutters as he walks over to Mackie, stealing his coffee with a grin.
I can’t look away, craving Mackie’s smile, but then I feel the pressure. Shit. Lifting my hand, I pinch my nose, and Skylar catches the movement. “Shit, boss, your nose is bleeding. You good?”
Mackie’s head whips around, and for the first time in days, his eyes are on me, but I wish they weren’t. “Fine, just stress,” I say as I turn away, but Mackie guides me to sit at the table, ignoring me as I try to wave him off.
Grabbing some tissues, he tilts my head forward and holds them for me. “It should stop soon. I’m fine,” I mutter.
“Shut up and do as you’re told,” Mackie scolds, his voice authoritative, and my eyes widen. He looks away, but I wish he wouldn’t. My hand covers his on the tissues, stealing his warmth, and I allow myself that weakness.
The nosebleed doesn’t last long, and when Mackie approaches with a wet towel and wipes my face, I sit stock-still. He holds my chin gently as he cleans it for me, and the gesture makes me want to drop to my knees and beg for his forgiveness.
I spent my life looking after everyone else. No one has ever looked after me before.
He slows to a stop, his eyes meeting mine, and unspoken words pass between us until I open my mouth and break the tension. “How about we go out this weekend, all of us?” I am desperate to spend more time with Mackie and cheer him up.
He pulls away, balling up the bloody towel. “I have plans.” He stands, tosses it in the trash, and packs his things. “I’m finishing early today. I’ll see you on Monday.”
He leaves, and I’m left staring after him.
“Idiots,” Skylar mutters.