Page 81 of Not So Happily Ever After (British Bad Boys)
Since her gift is in my pocket, and therefore invisible, I go with the box. Even though I’m hoping by the time I leave I can take it back with me, still filled with her stuff.
Yeah, keep hoping. You’ve gotta grovel first.
Mac opens the door, and I lose the power of speech. She’s wearing cute unicorn PJs, and there’s no reason why I should find them sexy as hell since they cover her from neck to ankles.
Feels way longer than six days since I last saw her.
“Hi.” There’s no mistaking her surprise, but she doesn’t sound pissed that I turned up two days early. Her gaze slides to the box I’m propping up against the wall. “Come in.”
I dump the box on the floor in the hall as she shuts the door.
Although I’ve had days to think about it, I’m no closer to knowing what to say to her. But since she dropped a bombshell on me earlier, I’ll start with that.
“You dropped out of Uni, then?”
She shrugs like she’s embarrassed. “I should never have gone for that degree in the first place. I guess you were right. I need to follow my dreams and stop hiding behind the promise I made to my mum.”
Fuck, I don’t want to think about the shitty things I said to her that night. “I was out of order, Mac. I didn’t mean that stuff I said.”
Her smile is sad. “Yes, you did. It’s okay. Honestly, you didn’t say anything I hadn’t already thought about.”
Somehow, that makes me feel worse than ever. “I was still a fuckwit.”
“Okay, then.” She sounds as though she’s trying not to laugh.Maybe I’m doing something right, after all.“I won’t disagree with that.”
“What are your plans?”
“Oh. Um, well I have all the qualifications I need to go for a Fine Arts degree. It’s just deciding which universities to approach. I’ve got a busy year ahead.”
“Putting your portfolio together?”
“Yes. That’s going to take a lot of work. And I need to set up an art space and stock up on supplies.”
A silence falls between us, almost as though we’re strangers who have just exchanged a few pleasantries instead of best friends who managed to screw things up. Again.
Might as well just jump in the deep end and hope for the best. “I need to talk to you about Saturday night.”
My words dry up as Brooklyn strolls into the hall from the kitchen. Shit. I’m guessing she knows everything, but I don’t want to drop Mac in it if she still wants to keep it all a big secret.
I don’t want a bloody audience when I try and make things right, either.
“Hey, Will. Long time, whatever.” Brooklyn’s grin tells me she knows everything, all right.
“It’s been a while,” I agree.
“About Saturday,” Mac says. I brace myself for a well-deserved, if not literal, knee to the nuts. “I didn’t realize you were talking about your mum. I’m really sorry about that.”
Talk about unexpected. It makes me feel worse than ever about the things I said to her that night. “You don’t need to apologize.”Because that’s my line.
“I really do. I wasn’t thinking straight about…things.”
I know what she’s talking about, but she’s making it sound all cloak and dagger. I glance at Brooklyn. Maybe she doesn’t know everything, after all.
“It’s okay.” Mac sighs. “Brook knows about us.”
But not about my mother.There’s an odd pain in my chest that she kept my confidence from her best friend. And although I wish Brooklyn was anywhere but here, I’m just going to have to swallow my pride and say the damn words.
“I was a dick that night. I’m sorry.”
