Page 9 of Replay
No overnights
No personal questions
No drinking…well, once I got there at least.
It worked for us. He was a good-time guy, and I was a good-time girl. Neither of us had any interest in being serious. In fact, I remember him adamantly telling me the night we met that he was not a commitment kind of guy and never would be. He even went so far as to say he’d never have any children. It seemed a bit odd, but I didn’t pry because…I wasn’t looking for anything serious anyways.
The only thing that mattered was the incredible sex. It was like a mind-altering, euphoric, magic carpet ride type of shagging.
Until I buggered it all up.
I take a long sip of my drink to quell the anxiety I feel creeping up. I was having such a nice time visiting with Mac’s friends, I actually forgot I was just having water. Now I’m noticing it with great detail.
Sloan and Allie have been reintroducing me to the entire Harris family. The men abandoned their wives ages ago to go talk football, but I’ve enjoyed chatting with the ladies. The Harris twins’ wives, Belle and Indie, have been best friends since med school, and I find myself watching their interactions with envy. I lost touch with so many of my friends throughout the years, and between moving to London and moving back home, I miss having a good friend. Even a pal to come along with me when I walk through all the outdoor markets on the weekends would be nice. I try to give Freya and Mac some privacy, but it gets lonely and boring. I wonder if this Harris family can adopt me the way they’ve seemed to adopt Freya and Mac.
My eyes return to the bar, and I nearly growl into my drink. Why did Santino have to show up and distract me?
Mac notices my change in demeanor, and his eyes follow mine to where Santino stands at the bar with the Harris brothers. He turns his back on all the ladies talking near us. His voice is low and ominous when he leans in and asks, “Is it alright he’s here?”
My spine straightens defensively. “Why would I care?” I take another drink.
“Because you look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Mac replies knowingly. “I still don’t know exactly what the hell went on between you two, but I trusted you when you told me he wasn’t the one who put you in your position five years ago.”
“Mac,” I warn, narrowing my eyes at him. “We’re not discussing that.”
“I know, I know,” he grumbles and takes a drink. “I still would like to beat the piss out of him. He’s got the kind of face that could just do with a nice smashing.” Mac eyes me cautiously. “All you have to do is say the word, and I’ll punt him out of here faster than a football.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re not punting anyone. You can barely bend your arms in that suit.”
Mac’s cheeks turn red as he smooths his hand over his lapel. “It’s a wee bit tighter than the last time I wore it.”
“Last time you wore it, you were probably drinking protein shakes and running five miles a day on the pitch.”
Mac’s nose wrinkles. “Bloody desk job is making me soft.”
“You’re soft because you’re happy,” I reply with a small smile, trying to change the subject.
Mac smiles back. “Aye.”
He glances down at his mobile to reread the last text from Freya just five minutes ago. He’s been texting her most of the night like a sweet, overprotective husband. Freya all but forced him to go out tonight. She said she needed some time to talk to their two cats, Hercules and Jasper, about the baby on the way.
God, she’s weird.I love her.
Mac diverts his attention back to me. “Sorry if I’ve been a bit of a grumpy bear since you arrived. I’ve just been stressed about Freya and the bairn. You know I love the shite out of you for helping us out like this, don’t you?”
“You didn’t love the shite out of me before?”
Mac’s brows furrow. “Of course I did, but…well…you’ve been different since—”
