Page 51 of Bitter Beats

“I’m serious.” She nods as if to prove her point. “It wasn’t even a color I’d wear or expensive. I just…took it.”

“Why?” I drop an elbow to the butcher block to prop up my head. Mckenna is making my mind spin. “You are the last person who would shoplift anything.”

“I know,” she agrees. Her eyes flash. “I think that’s why I did it. I wanted to see if I could. Part of me hoped I’d getcaught. I wanted to know how my parents would react. Would they make me apologize and bring it back? Would they cover for me and flip some generic ‘don’t do that again’ warning my way? Would they think it was a cry for attention that required deeper consideration?” She shrugs.

My eyebrows knit together. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she laughs. “Absolutely nothing. I didn’t get caught. My parents never found out. And I still have that tube of lipstick in the bottom of my makeup bag. It’s kind of like this… I don’t know, this act of rebellion. This reminder that I did something bad, and no one noticed.”

I shake my head. “Damn, Mckenna.”

She chuckles. “Not my finest hour.”

“I have a lot of those.”

She grins. “Yeah. Well…” She pushes back from the island. “We can’t all keep up with you, Mav.”

I chuckle. “What do you have going on today?”

She spins her phone on the butcher block island. “My mom’s back from Cabo…”

“Are you going to catch up with her?” My eyebrows pull together as I try to get a read on Mckenna’s family dynamics.

She snorts, confirming that her relationship with her parents is even more complicated than I imagined. “Hard pass. She left me a voicemail to ask if I could tutor some guy’s son for the LSAT. You know, because I have so much time on my hands still being a student in my twenties.” She rolls her eyes and sighs heavily. “I’m going to head to the library this morning. But I was serious earlier; we should go to dinner together tonight.”

I nod, still thrown by her mention of her mom. “Meet you in the living room at 6:30 PM?”

“Meet you in the living room,” she confirms. Mckenna moves to the sink to rinse out her mug.

“If you change your mind, don’t email me,” I warn.

She laughs and flashes me a smile over her shoulder. I freeze, drinking in the sight of her, washing a mug at the sink, tendrils of her hair escaping her clip, her eyes bright and beautiful.

The image of her hits me full-on, and I cough, wheezing along with Warren Willoughby, to hide my discomfort.

“I won’t,” she promises. “If I need to get in touch with you, I’ll text.”

“Or call,” I tack on.

Mckenna nods, her eyes serious, as she dries her hands on a dish towel. “Or call.”

“Have a good day, Mckenna.”

She brushes her fingertips lightly across my shoulders as she walks past. “You too, Mav. I’ll see you later.”

I listen as she gathers her school materials. Make a mental note that she needs a new laptop since I caught a glimpse of her cracked screen the other night. She leaves for campus ten minutes later, but I loiter in the kitchen. The silence feels itchy now that she’s gone. Everything about this morning unsettles me.

Derek’s appearance when he’s usually in LA.

My conversation with Mckenna when she tends to avoid me this early in her day.

This morning, Mckenna and I clicked on a deeper level. We were honest and trusting with each other. The way couples in genuine relationships are.

If our circumstances were different, would I have a shot with a woman like Mckenna?

I snort and feel Warren pinch along my ribs.

The thought is laughable and truly terrifying.

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