Page 43 of Life After You

“Oh, don’t be silly. I know that.” She waves me off before pulling out her notepad. “So, what am I getting you all?”

Mac nudges me playfully, and I huff a small laugh, relieved as the attention shifts. The guys place their orders, each throwing in their own brand of charm and flirtation, which Patty handles like a pro. Once she heads to the kitchen, the conversation settles into the easy rhythm of catching up.

Sam leans in, elbows on the table, studying Mac. “So, how long you planning to make us suffer before coming home?”

Mac stiffens, just slightly. I feel it more than see it. Under the table, I nudge her knee with mine, a silent reminder that she’s not alone.

“I don’t know,” she murmurs, stirring her straw through her drink. “I haven’t really figured it out yet.”

Trey nudges her playfully. “You do know we’re contractually obligated to be a mess without you, right?”

Mac smirks. “Oh yeah? And what exactly do I do for you guys again?”

Chace grins. “Mac Attack, you keep us grounded. And occasionally keep Logan from throwing punches.”

Mac gives me a pointed look, one brow arched.

I hold up my hands in mock innocence. “Hey, I’ve been good.”

Trey snorts. “For now.”

Before I can shoot back, movement from the next booth catches my eye. A group of girls—clutching their phones like lifelines—hesitantly approaches. One of them, maybe eighteen, wide-eyed and shaking, takes a deep breath and speaks first.

“Sorry to interrupt, but… are you Burnt Ashes?”

Chace’s grin is instant, his charm dialed up to eleven. “That depends. Are you here for an autograph or a date? Because Van Diesel over here is in the market.”

Sam groans and lands a solid punch to Chace’s arm. “Dick.”

“Bitch,” Chace groans, rubbing his arm.

The girl giggles, and just like that, the ice is broken. A handful of fans swarm the table, excitement lighting up their faces as we sign napkins, take pictures, and scrawl our names across phone cases. Mac watches with quiet amusement, sipping her drink while we make sure every fan leaves grinning.

As the last one walks away, Trey leans back with a satisfied sigh, shaking his head. “Never gets old.”

Mac rolls her eyes. “You just like the attention.”

Trey shrugs, unbothered. “Of course. Why else would I stand on stage, duh?”

Mac lifts her chin. “Personally, that kind of attention makes me nervous. I’m not great in social situations. I prefer to take mine now in the form of Patty’s brownies.”

As if on cue, Patty returns, sliding a plate stacked high with bacon and eggs in front of me, followed by a tray of brownies that could probably put us all into a sugar coma. I glance up at her, grinning.

“You keep this up, señora Patty, and I’m gonna have to change your status from bruja to diosa.”

Patty smirks. “I see what MacKayla likes in you, rockstar.” Then, without missing a beat, she turns to Chace. “Oh, and don’t do it.”

Chace blinks. “Do what?”

“If you tamper with Trey’s or Sam’s food, I’m gonna be cross. People pay good money here—it’d be a shame to waste any. Or hurt my business. Don’t you think, sugar?”

Chace’s mouth opens, then closes. “But… I didn’t.”

“Nope. But you were thinking it, now weren’t you?” She winks, then turns and walks off like she owns the place—which, let’s be real, she does.

Sam looks downright giddy, shoveling food into his mouth like he’s afraid it’ll disappear. If he had a tail, it’d be wagging. Across from him, Chace has the same slack-jawed expression that I’m pretty sure Trey and I are wearing.

By the time we step out of Patty’s, the sun has sunk lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the pavement. The air’s cooler now, but there’s still a buzz from lunch. Stomachs full, spirits lighter—it almost feels like old times.

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