Page 85 of Tempting

I need to know today if you’re taking the trade. You asked for this. Now you need to deal with it. Take the trade, man. It’s a lot of money.

My world tilts on its axis, and I slide my ass down to the floor as Gordie trots in with my shoe in his mouth and drops it in my lap.

Nixon walks in and looks from Gordie to me, then curses. “I’m sorry, baby. Did he eat another shoe?”

I look down at the expensive heel that’s strangely unharmed and silently shake my head.

Nixon squats in front of me, concerned. “You okay, Mac? You’re white as a ghost.”

“I guess it only took a day.” I run my hand along his cheek, then shove him back on his ass and stand up. I think about throwing my shoe at him but don’t want to risk accidentally hitting Gordie.

“What the hell, Mac?” He doesn’t move, just sits there, stunned.

Yeah, me too, I want to yell.

“I thought the universe brought us together. Serendipity, right? I mean, how many people find the love of their life in middle school at their best friends’ house? But fate wasn’t bringing us together. Nope. It was tempting me to take a chance so it could smack me back down and remind me what a cruel bitch it is.” I level Nixon with an icy glare as he stands and reaches for me.

“Don’t touch me,” I warn him.

“What the hell are you talking about, Mac? I’m not following here. Help me out.”

My anger grows like a wildfire catching on the Santa Ana winds, and I throw his phone at his face. Nixon’s reaction time is better than Leo’s, and he catches it before it can crash into his nose.

“When were you going to tell me about the trade, Nixon?” I don’t realize I’m yelling until it’s too late, but I’m so worked up, there’s no stopping it now. “You promised you’d catch me. You asked me to marry you.”

I start pacing with one shoe on my foot and the other in my hand, my mind racing. Anger and heartbreak and disappointment all warring with each other.

“Oh my God. I said yes, and you still didn’t think you needed to tell me you’re leaving.” My raised voice scares Gordie enough that he runs under the bed. “What is wrong with you?” I look around the room, searching for an answer I’m not going to get. “What the hell is wrong with me? How... how could you do this? I trusted you.”

This time I do chuck my heel, but I aim for his foot.

“You fucking dick. I love you so much I don’t want to hurt you, even though I want to kill you. Look at me.”

“Baby...” he takes a step forward, and I move away.

“Don’t you fucking baby me.” I wipe my eyes, refusing to let any tears fall.

“Mackenzie. Shut up and listen to me.”

My back snaps straight, and I think rage might be a visible thing because I’m seeing it in front of my eyes. If I could reach my shoe, I’d throw it harder this time and aim for a softer spot. Like his face.

“I asked about a possible trade before you even came home from DC.” He takes a step forward and waits to see how I’m going to react. I am wearing another shoe, after all.

“I asked about it. I never said I’d take one. I wanted to know if it was possible. I wanted to know if putting a little space between myself and the Sinclair name in this town... the legacy that’s expected. That needs to be lived up to. I thought some space could be a good thing. If it would help me figure out my own shit.” He takes another step forward and reaches out his arms for me, but I don’t move.

“I asked before you, Mac. And when Hunter flew in the other day to discuss options, I knew there was no option. I was staying here because you are my fucking home. If you’re here, I’m here. When I told Hunter I wasn’t interested, he refused to take my answer. He said to think about it and give him my answer today.”

My shoulders relax a fraction of an inch, and when he takes the final step toward me, I don’t back up. I don’t touch him or let him touch me, but I don’t move away. Not exactly relieved, but at least with a better understanding of where he’s coming from.

“Once you came back into my life, I knew I couldn’t take it, Mac.”

I shake my head and shove him away. “How could you ask me to marry you and not tell me, Nixon? I’m not a little girl waiting to be told what to do. I might like bossy in the bedroom, but everywhere else, I’m strong enough to handle myself.”

“You won’t even tell Dr. Dick to back the fuck off or report him to HR, Mac.”

My head snaps back like I’ve been physically slapped.

“Fuck you, Nix,” I yell at him as my heart breaks inside my chest.

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