Page 139 of The Games We Play
I laughed through a fresh surge of tears, my heart pulling tight in my chest. Relief nearly dropped me to the floor. I crossed the room quickly, ignoring the sting in my eyes and the wobble in my knees.
She meant everything to me. My mentor, my friend, the closest thing I’d ever had to a mother. Seeing her hooked up to monitors, her skin pale against the bright lights of the clinic, made something inside me crack.
I reached for her arm just as Mac stood, his chair scraping softly against the floor. He moved toward me and gently touched my waist, guiding me into the seat he’d been keeping warm.
“Sit,” he murmured, his voice steady. “She’s okay.”
I sank into the chair, clutching Sandy’s hand like I was afraid she might slip away if I let go.
“I’m gonna head out,” Mac said, placing a strong hand on my shoulder. “But if you need anything, call me.”
I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. That constant, grounding gaze. His touch was reassuring, his presence a balm to my frayed nerves. I nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.
He gave me one of those soft smiles that said more than words could, tapped Sandy’s foot affectionately, and slipped out of the room.
The moment he left, I felt it. I was happy to be there with Sandy, knowing she was okay, but still, I wasn’t content.
I had to go after him. I needed to thank him for showing up and stepping in for Sandy like he did.
Standing, I tapped Sandy’s hand gently before turning and slipping out the door. She didn’t say a word, didn’t ask questions. She knew.
“Mac!” I called, jogging down the hospital hallway, my voice echoing slightly as I tried to catch him before he reached the stairs.
He turned at the sound of my voice, brows furrowed in concern as his eyes locked on mine.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, already moving toward me with urgency in every step.
“N-nothing,” I said breathlessly as I slowed to a stop. We stepped to the side of the hallway, finding a quiet pocket between the chaos around us.
“Then why are you out here with me and not in there?” he asked.
I paused, taking a moment to simply look at him.Reallylook at him. The way his eyes always settled me. The familiar dip of his dimples when he smiled. The way his hair curled just slightly behind his ears, messy but deliberate.
God, I loved this stupid man.
My heart raced when he was near. My skin came alive, tingling with awareness. I felt safe, seen,known. As much as I’d tried to be angry with him all those weeks ago, here I was—full circle, back where it all began.
Back in the space where the only thing that made sense…wasus.
I reached out and cupped his cheek, brushing my thumb lightly across his skin. He leaned into my touch, his hand covering mine in a quiet affirmation.
I rose on my toes and kissed him. Soft. Tender. Wordless. He kissed me back without hesitation, his lips meeting mine like they remembered the rhythm by heart.
I lingered there, suspended in that hospital hallway with him. For a few stolen seconds, the world outside of us was non-existent.
When I finally pulled back, he exhaled slowly, his eyes opening to meet mine, dark and steady.
“What was that for?” he asked, voice hushed.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my hand still resting against his cheek.
“There’s no need to thank me,” he replied. “I meant what I said, Pen. I’d do anything for you. Roping the moon would be nothing if it meant being by your side.”
“I just didn’t know wha—” My voice faltered, the thought of losing Sandy choking off the words.
Mac pulled me into his arms before I could finish that sentence. I melted into his chest as the tears spilled over. His chin rested against the top of my head while his hand made slow, soothing circles along my back.
“I know,” he murmured, and I felt his voice as much as I heard it as it rumbled through me.
