Page 14 of I Choose You

I glance down at my lap and rest the beer bottle on my thigh. Part of me hopes she takes it in stride, but I’m slightly nervous she might lock herself in the bathroom again. If she does, it might be just enough for me to change my mind, and I hate how Luke picks up on that. How he knows that all she needs to do is say the words, and I’ll scrap it all. We’re both aware of how easily she could turn into my kryptonite.

“Stay focused. Shit like this doesn’t come often,” Luke expresses. “Hear her out, but don’t let her dictate.”

Dictate is a strong word.

“I’m a grown man,” I tell him. “She’s not going to call the shots by sharing her feelings about it.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t have a soft spot for her. We grew up together.” He swings his arms around the room after putting the empty bowls from the meat and cheese on the floor. “Live together. It’s normal to wonder how a big change like this might affect us all, but you need to take the excess emotion out of it. You’re going to fuck it up for yourself if you don’t. Kenz will be fine. Look what her father did…” He pauses for a beat, and it’s just enough time for the reality of that shitty situation to take hold of me. My nostrils flare at the same time my tongue glides over my front teeth, and I squeeze the back of my neck. “If she can get through that fucked up fiasco, she’ll live through this.”

I nod, knowing that the longer we talk about her father, the more worked up I’ll get. The truth is, he shouldn’t even own that title, father, because he’s as far from one as humanly fucking possible. Besides, I want to enjoy the evening. I don’t need another thing adding to the tension in my upper back.

I sit taller and take a quick sip of my beer when the front door opens. Mackenzie trails into the living area, and it’s the moment I’ve been waiting for.

“Uh, what is…this?” Her eyes flick between me, Luke, and the spread of food on the coffee table, and my entire damn soul lights up. She’s in her regular work get up, dress pants and a flowy cornflower blue blouse. Her cinnamon tinted hair is pulled to the side in a braid minus her loose bangs, exposing the side of her neck in a way that makes me want to get off the couch so I can latch my lips to her delicate skin.

“Baseball and nachos,” Luke answers, his gaze turning to the television after giving her a quick nod in greeting.

“I see that.” She blinks and stammers on her words. “W-why? What’s the occasion? You two are never home this early.”

It’s important to me that I spend as much time as I can with both of them before I leave, so it’s my new M.O. to leave the office earlier than I normally do. And because Layla’s shift changed this week, it worked out that Luke was available to hang out. Though, tuning in to a recorded baseball game isn’t as interesting to me as it is for Luke.

Luke hooks a thumb in my direction. “We’re doing what brothers do. Bonding and all before he’s in Texas for good.”

I don’t miss the sudden change in Mackenzie’s expression when he mentions me leaving. For a split second, her gaze flicks to the floor, and her demeanor turns somber. I place my beer on the side table and push off my knees because there’s no way in hell I want to see her down and out over it. I place my hands on her shoulders and angle her toward the mouth of the hallway that leads back to the bedrooms. “Change your clothes and come watch with us. I’ll get you a beer.” I give her the tiny boost she needs to get going and watch as her hips sway back and forth until the wall cuts off my line of sight. I turn to head to the kitchen before my thoughts go rogue. Before I start imagining what it’d be like to help her undress and change into something more comfortable—and maybe even a bit more revealing. Something that would show skin and be easier to strip off her—Jesus.

I need to get a grip.

I scoot to the middle of the couch when I get back to the living room. Much to my surprise, she’s not far behind and takes the end, curling her legs under her—which are covered in form fitting spandex—as I hand over a beer.

Mild sweetness slides down my throat as I gulp down a mouthful of the amber liquid. My impending move sits between my shoulders as she settles in. I hate keeping my plans from her, but I’m worried about how it’ll go over. I’m not ready for what will follow.

The game on the TV plays out, moving into the second inning, and I do my best to focus on that instead of the weight of my decision. The pitcher moves into formation, hikes a knee, then rotates into his throw. As soon as the ball leaves his fingertips, a grimace spreads across his face and he cradles his arm against his body. The game ceases as the chanting in the stands dies down, and his closest teammate runs to assist.

It’s fucking depressing. Watching a rookie player being loaded on a stretcher when he hasn’t been in the major leagues for more than three weeks. How do I know this? Because it’s not the first time Luke is watching this game. He lives off watching recordings, claiming it makes him a better sports therapist.

It’s not surprising to see Luke completely engulfed as the announcers scrutinize the guy's throw, so I move my attention to Mackenzie when she scoops a chip off the nacho spread. She must sense me because she glances over, and I do all that I can not to reach out and tug on her arm so she’s flush against me.

She might only be three feet away, but it’s going to seem like miles once I tell her I decided to take the job in Austin.

I’m dying for her radiant warmth, and the universe provides because she moves over and leans into me a second later. The aroma of her lavender and rosemary laundry detergent coddles me as I push my shoulder past hers to get closer. I almost forget about the boulder that’s going to drop when she leans against me.

“How many times has he watched this one?” she whispers, bringing a chip to her mouth.

Cheers ripple through the speakers from the crowd when another player walks out to the pitcher’s mound as a replacement, though I doubt he’s as good as the guy who was wheeled off the field.

I shrug and lower my voice, noticing how close my lips are to her neck now that she’s next to me. A little closer and I could slide my lips along her skin. Work to elicit a sound from her that would have me straining against the denim of my jeans.

I clear my throat—and head. “Probably one too many. Don’t you remember when he declined to take Gertrude Williamsport to the winter festival because he didn’t want to miss out on the game of the century? His favorite player—ah, I can’t think of his name right now—tore his rotator cuff. Ended his time in the leagues. Would have never forgiven himself if he missed that shit. He rewatched that game twelve times to make sense of it.”

She moves, playfully swatting at me. “I forgot about that! Isn’t she a cheerleader for a popular football team now?”

I nod, and she hides a giggle behind her hand. Luke doesn’t notice.

“That’s the one. I surrendered to this because I knew you’d show eventually.”

“What if I didn’t?” she quips, cocking a brow. “Then what?”

Wanting to be as close to her as possible, I drape an arm over her shoulders and tug her closer. “Based on the knowledge that I can rely on you—and the last fifteen years being proof of that, I figured it was a smart play to put all my money in one basket.”

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