Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
This will be so awkward, but I’m going because of Mackie.
Conan wants to meet. He’s right. We need to talk this out and discuss rules so we all feel comfortable—well, as comfortable as we can be.
This is awkward for all of us, but not talking will make it worse.
We both want and care for Mackie, and we are willing to share him rather than lose him, so we need to figure out a way to deal with each other.
The smile Conan aims at Mackie as we enter makes my teeth grind in jealousy.
It’s an expression of familiarity and care, and when Mackie goes to pull away, dropping my hand to reach for Conan, I yank him back.
Mackie’s eyes widen as they swing to mine in worry, and Conan’s smile fades slightly.
I know I’m glaring. I’m not making this easy, and the look in Mackie’s eyes destroys me.
Forcing out a breath, I release his hand and step back.
He watches me for a moment before moving to Conan, who pulls him into a hug, keeping his eyes on me the entire time.
He looks worried, but in those eyes is something else.
When he pulls back, he holds out a chair for Mackie.
It’s at the head of the small table, which is thoughtful because this way he sits between us.
Conan could have asked Mackie to sit by his side, but he didn’t, and when I stomp over, drop into the other chair, and take Mackie’s hand, he simply smiles and leans back.
He’s acting reasonable as hell, which makes me look like a jealous ass.
Great.
Clutching Mackie’s hand like a lifeline, I try to stop the thoughts racing across my face, even as I size Conan up. He’s still pretty. He has an old Hollywood look, with perfect sweeping hair, tan skin, and bright eyes. He looks like an 80’s movie star and couldn’t be more different from me.
That makes me wonder how Mackie can want both of us, but I don’t ask, knowing that’s just a jealous inner voice.
Does he sleep with Mackie? Does he hold him?
Does Mackie laugh as loudly as he does with me?
He doesn’t make Mackie cry like I do. I know that, and it kills me.
I glance at Mackie. He’s looking at Conan, and there’s softness in his gaze, something he doesn’t have with me.
It’s at this moment that I realize their relationship is different than ours.
Conan offers him something I can’t, and that slays me.
“Thank you both for coming,” Conan says like we are at a business meeting, his voice calm and his smile still in place.
Does he always fucking smile? Why? Is it sincere, or does it cover something?
Evan and Alek said Conan is a good man, which is the only reason I’m even considering this.
They would never lie, and everything I’ve found about him indicates they’re being truthful, but no one is good enough for Mackie, not even me, not that it will stop me now.
“Have you been here long?” Mackie’s cheeks flush. “Sorry we are late.”
He doesn’t mention the reason why. Before I let him leave the house, I had him on his knees, reminding him he belongs to me so I could face Conan knowing Mackie still tastes me.
Conan must read something because his eyes tighten ever so slightly and his smile crumples for a second before returning full force. Now, I know it’s a mask, a clever one, but still a mask. “Not long. This place is nice. I’ve never been here.”
“We come here all the time with the team,” I say.
It’s why I suggested it. It’s familiar and safe for both Mackie and me.
Maybe that was a mistake, but Conan doesn’t seem to mind as he nods and brushes Mackie’s hair from his face.
It’s a familiar, thoughtless gesture, like he’s done it a thousand times, and my hand clenches Mackie’s to the point of making him gasp in pain.
I immediately draw my hand back, and Conan’s hand drops. We glare at each other, and Mackie’s gaze swings between us before he shoves to his feet, and we both look at him. “I need the bathroom,” he blurts, his tone laced with panic. “Don’t kill each other.”
“Shit.” Rubbing my face, I watch him go. “That’s my fault.”
I hope he isn’t crying again because that would ruin me.
I promised to meet Conan and give this a chance, so I need to stop being a petty, immature asshole.
If I were honest from the start and less up my own ass, we wouldn’t be here, but we are, so I need to get the hell over it and fix this before it hurts Mackie more.
I’ve hurt him enough for a lifetime.
“It’s mine too.” Conan sighs. “He can feel our emotions, it would be hard not to, and he feels responsible. You know how Mackie is. He is blaming himself. We need to figure out a way to get along for him.”
He’s so fucking reasonable. I hate him.
We just stare at each other, neither of us knowing what to say.
“The best place to start is probably with the truth. I should have known from the way you watch him . . . I guess I didn’t want to notice because I liked him too, but you’ve always wanted him, haven’t you?
” Conan asks softly. My nod is sharp, and he returns it absentmindedly, playing with his drink.
“So why did you push him away until now?”
“I was trying to protect him,” I admit. I don’t want this man to think it was for any other stupid reason.
“Okay, your reasons are your own,” he states. “I think we can get along—”
“No one is this good of a guy,” I spit. “There is no way you aren’t bothered by the guy you like sleeping with someone else. No one is that reasonable, so either you’re lying to him or yourself.”
He watches me for a moment, and his smile is bitter as he scoffs, taking a sip of his drink before he answers.
“I never said I wasn’t jealous, but yes, I’m understanding because what else can I be?
I won’t lose him. Throwing a tantrum or punching your smug fucking face wouldn’t get me anywhere, and it would only hurt Mackie.
Yes, I’m jealous. Yes, it drives me crazy when I see you flirting or touching.
Yes, I hate it and want to take him home for myself, but we are both here for the same reason.
We love him and don’t want to hurt him, so we need to figure out a way to get along—not for our sake, but for his. ”
“And where does your ex-husband come into this? Are you still in love with him? Is Mackie just a rebound for you? If he is, walk away now.” I throw it like a barb, but I need to know if this is a fling for Conan, because it will hurt Mackie.
Once he lets someone in, he cares so deeply, he would do anything for the people he loves, even if it kills him.
It’s who he is, so I need to know what to prepare for.
“Did he tell you about my husband?” Conan frowns, looking hurt for a moment.
“No,” I reply, not wanting him to be mad at Mackie, even if I don’t want them to be close.
Conan’s eyes are narrow and sharp. “You looked into me?”
“And you didn’t look into me?” I counter.
“No. I trust Mackie. He knows his own heart, so it doesn’t matter what I think of you, only what he does. You actually looked into me? What else did you find?”
Pursing my lips, I glance at the table and back to him, refusing to hide. “Your home address, credit score, business filing history, sexual tests, and health results,” I admit. The investigator I hired is very good.
“Well fuck.” Conan blinks before grabbing his drink and throwing it back.
“I guess that answers my question about how serious you are about Mackie. You wouldn’t do that if you weren’t.
Look, Noah, we both want the same thing.
We both want to protect him, just in different ways.
I’m the good guy, and clearly you are willing to do anything, even questionable things, to keep him safe.
We don’t have to be best friends, hell, we don’t even have to like each other, but we do have to figure out a way to live with each other.
It’s obvious neither one of us will give Mackie up, so that means we’ll share him.
I did some research, and I think it’s possible if we set strict ground rules and openly communicate about what makes us uncomfortable or hurt.
I’m willing to try if you are for Mackie’s sake. ”
“So you’re willing to share him?” I ask.
“So are you,” Conan retorts, “because you feel the same way. It’s better to have part of him than none of him.”
“Fucking smart prick,” I grumble as I toss my drink back. His smile is full force, but he reaches over and pours me another drink before he pours himself one and holds his glass up.
“And you’re a smug, jealous ass. At least we know.” Clinking my glass to his, I throw it back, and we stare at each other. He isn’t a bad guy, and he cares for Mackie. I’ve been testing him, and it’s clear he isn’t going anywhere.
He was faithful and dedicated to his husband, even after his death. Someone like that . . . Well, he will be the same to Mackie. He’ll look after him no matter what, even if things get hard. I feel a little better, so I sit back, looking to see if Mackie is coming.
“Honestly, I’m kind of relieved,” I murmur, hating that I’m telling him this, but I need him to understand for when the time comes. “I feel a bit better knowing he has you too.”
“What? Why?” he asks, completely thrown.
Debating how to say this, I stare at my glass. “Just . . . I do. You can be there for him when I can’t be. You can take care of him when I can’t. You can heal his heart and help him move forward.”
Conan can love and protect him when I’m gone.
I was always so scared to break Mackie’s heart, knowing it would ruin him when I die, but knowing Conan will be there after I am gone relieves some of that tension.
It will still hurt, but he won’t be alone.
He won’t have to go through it by himself.
“Just promise me.” I lift my eyes. “Promise me no matter what, you’ll stick by his side, even if he pushes you away.
You’ll stay, and you’ll love him and look after him. ”