Page 94 of The Games We Play
This wasn’t just a cute stunt. This was Mac standing in the middle of his bar, in front of everyone, offering a quiet confession that he’d messed up.
I glanced up at him, resting my chin in my hand. “So… what’s inPenny’s Potion?”
Mac leaned in slightly, one arm braced on the bar. “Your favorites. Tequila, orange juice, and grenadine.”
I raised a brow. “So basically a tequila sunrise… with a romantic rebrand?”
He smirked, already reaching for a glass beneath the bar. “Only the best for my muse.”
That made me laugh. I tilted my head, watching him work—how his hands moved with easy confidence, flexed with practiced motion as he scooped ice and poured the tequila. There was something hypnotic about it. Or maybe it was justhim.
“I guess it’s only right I try one of everything,” I said, voice light. “Starting with my potion.”
Mac nodded, not taking his eyes off the drink. “Bold move. Starting with the showstopper.”
He finished the pour and added the grenadine last, letting the syrup swirl like a sunset through the glass. Then, as always, he fished two cherries from the bars container and dropped them gently on top because he knew I liked an extra. He slid the drink across the bar toward me, a little grin tugging at his lips.
“I have to admit, coming up with the names wasn’t easy.”
“Oh yeah?” I lifted the glass, letting the cold bite against my palm. “Well, they’re pretty damn creative.”
He grinned. “Glad you think so. Dudley saidThe Apology Shotwas a little bland.
I sipped, letting the citrus hit my tongue. Sweet. Bright. Exactly what I needed.
“Maybe,” I said, setting the glass down, “but it’s also honest. Which, let’s be real, isn’t exactly your default setting.”
“Ouch,” he said with a mock wince. “Low blow, Penelope.”
I leaned forward, a smile teasing my lips. “Truth hurts, Ridley.”
He studied me for a second, then exhaled slowly. “It does. But you know what hurts more?”
“What?”
“The thought of you walking out without giving me a chance to show I’ve changed.”
My stomach flipped. His voice had softened, just a little, but it was enough to slip through my defenses.
Still, I kept my expression playful. “That line part of your cocktail pitch too?”
He grinned, wide and boyish. “Nope. That one’s straight from the heart.” Mac tapped his chest, right where his heart was.
Hearing Mac say anythingfrom the heartstirred something deep in my chest—an emotion I wasn’t sure I was ready to feel.
Clearing my throat, I took another sip of my drink and set the glass down gently on the bar.
“Oh, shit,” I muttered with a groan.
Mac’s brows furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong?”
“I meant to grab my book from my bag,” I said, a sheepish grin tugging at my lips. “Figured I could read a little while I, you know… subtly watched you work.”
He blinked. “You’re going to read in the middle of a bar?”
“Why not?” I replied, instantly on the defense as I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest.
Mac raised both hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m not judging. Just asking. Is it in your bag?”
