Page 24 of My Dearest Mackenzie

Not wanting to waste my beverage, I took a walk on the High Line and settled in a rhythm of mindlessly sipping and overthinking until it was time for kickboxing. As I rushed into the studio, signed in and changed, I felt bad for the rest of the class with all the anger running through me; I was ready to kick through a wall.

And that was before I walked into the room and saw Mack standing there in his dumb black athletic shorts and gray T-shirt, chatting up Roy. Well, he did look so handsome, and that angered me even more.

It wasn’t like me to make a scene, but I couldn’t help the loud growl and punch that emanated from me. The problem was my fist landed right in Mack’s gut and he was now doubled over, threatening to puke by the sound of it, and I had definitely caused a to-do.

“Fuck, did you have to wound me?” Mack spoke through gritted teeth as I paced in front of him, waiting to see if he was okay.

“Apparently,” I answered. “You deserved it, and now you’re invading my space, my place where I find serenity. Why?”

We moved to the side of the room, without touching, a fissure of electricity running between us.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sick of hearing that from you, and I was the one who walked out, I’ll remind you.”

“It was because of me.” He finally stood and leaned against the wall.

I noted Roy started class without us. “You kissed me.” I said that part softly, making sure no one heard me.

“No offense, Miss Priss, but this is New York. People kiss and have a good time, if you know what I mean, without it leading to marriage or blows. But not you. I couldn’t keep it up without making sure you knew how I felt. And I was right. You ducked for cover before running.”

“‘Miss Priss’? You’re seriously going to call me names? All because I’m not one of those people who gives my kisses out for free.” I murmured the statement, but it was the truth.

He nodded. “I’ve never had a relationship last longer than a few weeks. It’s not my style.”

“How sad. You’re what? Forty-five?”

He nodded again, making me worried he couldn’t speak. “Forty-six.”

“You deserve more than you think, Mack. I’m not saying with me, but your grandmother wanted that for you. I’m sorry about your mom. You got the shitty end of the deal.”

“Did you just curse?”

Shaking my head, I said, “I’m going to join class before I kick you.”

For reasons unknown to me, Mack followed me and participated too, holding the bag for my kicks. “I’d rather do this than be on the receiving end of one of those,” he joked.

As sweat lined the nape of my neck, I didn’t feel any better. There was no resolution. I didn’t know any more about Rosie. But in the process, I felt myself falling for this man. A man who didn’t believe in love or commitment or romance or really anything… He’d made it clear.

This very man interrupted my thoughts. “Want to do dinner?”

“Why?” I couldn’t help the terse tone rolling off my tongue. “You confuse me.” I was honest.

“You confuse me right back, if I’m being brutally honest,” he said back.

“No dinner. Not tonight.”

“Maybe another night?” he half stated, partially asked. He knew I was wavering, and that sucked.

I had to work on not being so readable, so I didn’t answer Mack on his sort-of question. Walking toward the shower, I was still mad at myself. Of course I’d agree to another night because I was a goner when it came to feelings.

Which was how I ended up accepting a dinner invite less than forty-eight hours later.

I’d been coming out of the organic fruit market when my phone rang. It was a private number, and being a fool, I said, “Hello?”

“Hey,” he said back, his voice gruff and hoarse.

My feet came to a dead stop on the sidewalk. “Mack?”

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