Page 45 of Versions Of Us

My eyes snap open. “Are you kidding?”

“No. It’s almost eleven.” Mackenzie hovers over me, her blonde waves draping around her face. “By the way, your bed is lumpy as hell. My back is killing me.”

I rub a hand over my face and roll my eyes at her. “Sorry about that, princess. You’re welcome to take the couch tonight.”

She scrunches her nose up in disapproval. “Nah, I’ll be okay.” Her voice streams into my subconscious as my eyes drift closed again. “And watch it with the princess shit.”

Fair call. There’s not a soul on this planet that would agree with that nickname.

“Henley!” she shouts. “You said not to let you be late for work.”

“Okay.” My eyes flutter open again and I pull myself into an upright position. “I’m awake.”

I can already sense that today is going to be a long day. The last time I’d checked my phone it had said 3am. In all honesty, I could blame my sleepless night on the fact that I was curled up like a pretzel on a couch half my size, but the truth is it had a lot more to do with Kristen barging into the loft last night.

I expected her to hate me but the way she had looked at me, the loathing in her stare, it had hurt me more than I could ever have fathomed. I’d lain awake for most of the night, tossing and turning, the pained look in Kristen’s hazel eyes staring back at me in the darkness.

God, what have I done?

Mackenzie’s voice snaps me back to the present. “So, can I?”

“Can you what?” I ask dazed.

She sighs. “I need some money.”

“What you need is a job.” I retaliate.

“I literally just got here, dude,” she scoffs. “Where the hell am I supposed to find a job around here? This town is so tiny.”

“As opposed to the small backward town you came from?” I tease.

“Yeah. Okay. Fair enough,” she resigns. “I’ll start looking today.”

I stand up, stretching out my aching muscles as I stumble into the tiny kitchenette. “There’s always the café across the street,” I suggest.

“The Haven?” she asks, looking at me like I’ve just suggested she shave her head. “Yeah, right. Maybe when hell freezes over.”

“Why not?” I sigh.

“You know why.” She stares me down, her eyes narrow and cold.

“You have to talk to her sooner or later.” I reach for a mug in the overhead cabinet and begin to pour myself a coffee from the percolator.

“Yeah well, later is preferable,” she answers. “Besides, you’re one to talk.”

My lips form a thin line. I’ll spare Mackenzie the details of mine and Kristen’s reunion last night. It’s probably the last thing she needs to hear right now.

“Whatever. I need to shower. There’s a twenty in my pocket over there.” I wave an arm in the direction of my denim jacket thrown over one of the dining chairs as I pull the coffee mug to my lips. The lukewarm liquid hits my tongue leaving a bitter, awful taste. I spit it out into the sink. “Oh, God! What did you do? That’s terrible.”

She throws a snarky look in my direction. “Too bad. I hear they make a mean mochaccino across the road.”

“Ha ha,” I say, unsmiling. “Real funny.”

Even without knowing about last night’s events, Mackenzie understands all too well that there’s not a chance in hell I’m setting foot in the Haven anytime in the near future. But damn, a good cup of coffee would go down real nicely right now. I’ll have to settle for one from the machine at the bar.

Mackenzie smirks at me as she lunges for my jacket. She pulls out the twenty I promised her, holding it up between two fingers. “Thanks. And maybe you could put in a good word for me with your boss?”

“Dylan? Why?”

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