Promise Me You Page 21

  “I call bullshit,” he finally said. “A few years ago, sure, I would’ve accepted that. Would have even agreed that, yeah, in the past I lost track of what was important and didn’t pull my head out of my ass until it was too late. But I’m not that guy anymore. Not with you,” he said flatly. “Never with you.”

  “I know. That’s my fear.”

  “My putting you first shouldn’t scare you, Trouble.” He gently cupped her hip, drawing her closer.

  Darn it, if that didn’t bring the first round of tears, then the conviction behind his words did. And as the first drop spilled over her lashes, she knew she’d never come back from this moment. Not in one whole piece anyway.

  “It should scare you too, because eventually I’d end up doing the same, until our relationship was so full of compromises someone would end up losing,” she said, her voice wobbling. “I knew the day we met you could never really be mine, not without a huge sacrifice on your part. For this to work, it would mean more than simple changes. For both of us.”

  “Changes we can get through together,” he whispered, his voice as raw as her heart felt.

  “That’s just it,” she pleaded as a familiar sense of despair rushed over him. “You don’t need me to go onstage and sing. Just like you don’t need me to write music or go on tour. You have everything you need in here.” She rested a hand on his chest and realized she was shaking. “But for this to work, I’ll need you.”

  “By this you’re not talking about the tour anymore, are you?”

  Even though she couldn’t see the disappointment in his eyes, she didn’t have a hard time imagining it.

  “Jesus.” Hunter dropped his hand and took a step back. “So what, we finish out our last twenty-four hours, then go back to how things were?”

  “That’s what we agreed on,” she said. “You help me, I help you, and then we go back to our separate lives. Keep it simple. That was the promise.”

  “I don’t give a shit about simple, I care about you, about making this work. So it might get complicated? So what? If life were simple, it’d be boring,” he said, and she ignored the misery in his plea, because she was drowning in her own.

  “Don’t you get it? My world is simple. It has to be.” She wiped angrily at her cheek. “Boring is a delicacy. I would kill for boring. For the day when I can go to the store, cook supper, and maybe catch a movie and have it be so boring I don’t break out into a sweat. But that’s going to take me time. The kind of time that will consume another person’s life. I’ve lived that life, Hunter. I don’t want that for you.”

  His voice went soft, so soft she felt her chest hollow out. “Have you ever considered what I want?”

  “Hunter—”

  “No.” He cut her off. “You’re so busy protecting this amazing life you think I have you’ve never once asked me what I want. Because if you had, I’d tell you that I want you, Mackenzie. I want you in my arms, my bed, in my life. Every fucking day.” He reached up, his fingertips skimming her cheek as he cupped her face, catching a tear with his thumb. “How is that for simple?”

  Nothing about her life or this situation was simple. She knew that, and there was nothing she could do to change it. “Love is never simple.”

  His voice softened, along with his touch. “No, it’s not. I’ve also learned that it’s not enough. But I’ve also learned that it’s a good place to start.” Hunter tilted her gaze toward his. “So the only question you need to be asking yourself is what do you want, Mackenzie?”

  Another sob rose in her chest because she wanted everything.

  To be happy and loved and unafraid. To be a part of something bigger than her limitations. She wanted to remember what it felt like to look forward to all the tomorrows. And look back on today feeling useful and strong.

  And more than anything, she wanted her love to exist without conditions. And while Hunter’s love would come with limitless possibilities, hers would always bring boundaries.

  “I want to know what it feels like to stand on my own two feet. No, I need it,” she said, choking on the pain of what she knew she was about to say. “I need to remember what it’s like to be capable. Just like I need for you to look back in a few years and not regret today.”

  “Then don’t run away again,” he begged.

  “I’m not running, Hunter. We’re just headed in different directions,” she said.

  He was silent for so long Mackenzie’s heart was racing. “And here I thought I made it clear I was headed toward you,” he whispered. “You’re so stuck on sacrificing yourself in the fight for me you’ve completely missed that I’ve been fighting for us. I love you, Mackenzie, exactly how you are. The question is, do you love me?”

  Yes, she wanted to cry. Everything she’d done was for love. The easy choice would be to take what he was offering. But love never came easily for Mackenzie.

  “Hunter, I—”

  “Enough said.” His hands fell away from her, and he took a step back—in more ways than one. “I guess you’re right, Trouble, we do want different things,” he said flatly. “You want to go back to the way things were. Problem is, I can’t.”

  “So that’s it?” Panic began to curl itself around her. “There is no middle ground?”

  “Love doesn’t work that way. It’s an all-in kind of thing. And I think you’re all-in, you’re just too scared to admit it,” he whispered, and she could sense his gaze on her face, lingering, memorizing. Then he pressed a heartbreakingly gentle kiss to her lips. “When you figure it out, I’ll be waiting.”

  With that he headed toward the door. It slammed shut behind him, echoing through the empty stairwell. For a minute, she could hear him calling a ride for her, and then everything went quiet.

  The silence was so final it resonated through her. Instinctually, her shoulders immediately straightened, back to the place where she could carry the weight of the world—only this time it felt heavier, as if she was going to buckle under the pressure.

  She held strong to her decision, fighting the need to crumble. But she was so tired of fighting. For love, for her freedom, for life to finally go her way.

  And suddenly, she was too tired to fight. A chill swept around her, clinging tighter with every second that passed. A sob worked its way out, racking her body, quickly followed by another, until her knees began to give way.

  She reached back and found the handrail, lowering herself to the bottom step.

  Muttley whimpered and pressed himself securely to her side.

  Unable to hold back any longer, Mackenzie buried her face in his neck and let the emotion spill free.

  The frustration, the longing, the anger, and the grief. Lots of grief. So devastatingly raw it ached to breathe.

  If she thought she’d experienced pain all those years ago, it was nothing compared to the deep emptiness filling her chest now, the cold so severe her body was on the brink of shattering with each second that passed.

  Mackenzie had survived her share of loss, had learned how to embrace it. She even knew how to put the pieces back together. This time, though, she was afraid she’d never find all the pieces to make herself whole again.

  CHAPTER 18

  “Man, I can smell the stench from here,” Brody said to Hunter, waving a hand in front of his nose like he was in fucking middle school. Then the prick looked at Cash. “You smell that?”

  Cash leaned across the bar top and took a whiff. “What, the self-loathing? Or the pile of Hunter-brewed shit he’s been wallowing in all week?” Cash said, taking way too much joy in Hunter’s current situation.

  “Fuck you.” Hunter placed a hand on Cash’s face and gave a hard shove.

  Had the situation been swapped, had Cash gotten himself in the middle of a shit sandwich with a woman, Hunter would have seen the humor. But things weren’t swapped, and this wasn’t just any woman. Mackenzie was the woman.

  Always had been. He’d just been too stupid to see it. And now it had been thirteen long days of silence. T
hirteen days since he’d seen her, held her, even spoken with her. She’d told him in no uncertain terms that they couldn’t work, their lives were too different, and pursuing anything more would only end in further heartache.

  Further heartache? Hunter fought back a grim chuckle.

  He already ached. He didn’t think his heart could ache any more if it stopped beating. Even that would be a welcomed change if it meant the pain would stop with it.

  “You going to call her?” Brody asked.

  Hunter looked out the front of the bar and watched the rain slide down the windowpanes. An early spring storm had blown in from the south, bringing with it tropical gusts strong enough to cause horizontal rain. Most of the shops had closed for the night, and patrons brave enough to battle the elements had headed home hours ago.

  “I put the decision in her hands,” he said, looking at his cousins. Oh, his cousins were looking back at him like he was a complete idiot. “What? From the beginning she made it clear she needed time, so I am going to give her what she wants.”

  “If you think that’s what she wants, you’re worse off than I thought,” Brody said.

  “Since when are you for me pursuing Mackenzie?”

  “Since it became clear that the two of you were meant to be together, and on your own you’re bound to screw this up. Again,” Brody said bluntly.

  “What do you mean, again?”

  Brody laughed. “For the first time since your divorce, you have a shot at the real deal. Too bad you’re so busy trying to uncomplicate everything for everyone that you’re screwing over the one person who’s had your best interests in mind the entire time.”

  “And now I’m putting her interests first.”

  “Explain how you running off to your big dog and pony show is putting her first,” Cash said.

  “I’m not running off. I don’t run. I’m giving her space.” Only he was afraid this space would eventually lead to breaking his heart. Today they would be friends, but tomorrow she would be sending him straight to voice mail. The next thing he knew, she’d cut ties completely.

  Fuck.

  “We’ve been asking for space for years, but you keep coming back and hounding us like the damn plague,” Brody said.

  “She’s different.” Of that he was certain.

  “Exactly.” Cash laughed. “And yet you’re here. Wasting time with your bros, like some high school prick, waiting for her to make the next move, because you forced the ball into her court.”

  “Yeah, I fucked up. I had three weeks to convince her how perfect it could be. Three weeks! So I pushed too hard too fast.” Hunter shoved back from the bar and stood. “Now I’m trying to fix it.”

  “You got it all wrong.” Brody stood too, got in his way, and blocked his path. “You had forever.” Brody’s face softened. “Your plan, though? The perfect one where Mackenzie fits seamlessly into your already scheduled world tour? That plan had three weeks. Love doesn’t submit to a concert tour.”

  “I told her I love her.” And she’d told him she wanted out.

  “Yeah, you also told her your love was conditional. That for it to work it had to be on your terms and your timeline.”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “You sure? Because when you get laser focused on making things happen, you don’t leave a lot of room for input or error. And Mackenzie’s continued success depends on a daily routine of trial and error,” Brody said. “And at the first error, instead of reworking your world, you threw your hands up and walked.”

  Jesus, was his cousin right?

  Hunter gripped the back of his neck and squeezed, trying to stop the panic that had been strangling him all week. It didn’t help. Nothing seemed to help. With every minute that passed, the stranglehold became stronger, tighter, working its way around his neck until he was certain he would stop breathing.

  He leaned against the counter, or maybe his lungs finally gave up the fight. He wasn’t sure, but suddenly his vision dimmed and all he could see was the past few weeks—rushing at him with a force too staggering to remain upright.

  He replayed how terrified she’d been about losing Muttley, how resigned she’d been about him going off to live this amazing life. A life that would mean nothing without her.

  Without love.

  “Simplifies everything, doesn’t it?” Brody said with a smug smile.

  Hunter couldn’t find a goddamn thing to smile about. Mackenzie wasn’t running. She’d given him her love—the only way she knew how. And what had he done? Said it wasn’t enough. He’d never made enough room for them to even exist. Never made room for her love. And he knew exactly how that felt.

  He’d been so desperate to make it work he hadn’t taken the time to ask her what wasn’t working. So afraid of losing out on love again, losing out on a life with her, he’d somehow missed the “with her” part.

  She hadn’t missed it. She’d seen exactly what life with him would be like. Her alone in a dark room and him surrounded by the house lights.

  He stared at the storm raging outside, and a flash of light exploded over the city. He looked at his cousins, both of them smiling like idiots. “I gotta go.”

  Brody clapped him on the shoulder. “Figured as much.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Rain beat down on the roof and hail pelted the windows, rattling the panes until Mackenzie feared one would shatter. The house moaned under the awesome force of the roaring wind.

  The storm had raged for three days, flooding parts of town, knocking over trees, downing power lines, and shredding her already frazzled nerves. It had left her virtually housebound, not that she had anywhere she intended to go, but the thought that she couldn’t left her feeling suffocated, out of control.

  Muttley whimpered, his collar jingling, and fabric rustled as he turned in circles before nuzzling farther into his doggy bed.

  “For such a big dog you sure can be a scaredy-cat,” Mackenzie teased in a soothing voice.

  Everything stilled. An eerie silence emerged a fraction of a moment before the crackle of lighting overhead. She counted the seconds, anticipating the thunderous clap to arrive.

  One.

  Tw—

  A boom of thunder shook the entire house. Fear snapped in Mackenzie’s heart and rattled beneath her ribs, making her breath stutter. Muttley yelped and darted to the foot of her bed, his wet nose seeking her hand. She felt small and weak beneath the onslaught of Mother Nature. As soon as the fear ebbed, the pain of losing Hunter crept in, followed by anger.

  White-hot anger. With Hunter for holding on to the hope that things between them could be different—that their worlds could somehow coexist—and refusing to see that sometimes hope was nothing more than the inability to accept reality.

  She was angry with herself too. Angry that she lacked the confidence and skill to adapt to change faster—to become the person he needed her to be for their relationship to work.

  But mostly she was angry with the situation. The reason letting go was so incredibly painful was because it was the only choice—for them both.

  Mackenzie fisted the soft flannel of Hunter’s shirt and closed her eyes. And for just a moment she allowed herself to remember how he’d felt lying next to her. The comforting weight of his body, the smell of his skin, the stubborn superhero complex that drove her nuts.

  And a strangled laugh escaped her lips, followed by a sob so small and so broken her chest ached at the sound.

  “Gawd, you’re pathetic,” she said, lying on her back and flopping her hands to her sides.

  Refusing to dissolve into more tears, Mackenzie pulled back the covers and swung her legs out of bed, hoping some tea would quiet the what-ifs that had haunted her for the past two weeks. Her limbs were leaden and trembled as she stood, not from fear now but from sheer fatigue.

  Mackenzie had worked so hard to keep it together when saying goodbye to Hunter that the second she’d been left alone, the floodgates had opened. And she was still trying to pl
ug all the little cracks—without much success.

  At first, the only way she could get the tears to stop was to sleep. So she’d spent most of the first few days in her room, sleeping in Hunter’s shorts and spooning her dog for dear life, which placed her on the corner of Pathetic and Dramatically Tragic.

  Then on day four, Savannah had come over with a T-bone, an umbrella, and a dozen doughnuts. The steak was for Muttley, the umbrella was for their daily walks around town, and the doughnuts—those were for celebrating the end of Mackenzie’s pity party.

  A party Mackenzie was determined to end. Her heart was a little slow on the uptake, but she knew from experience that if she put on a brave face, the bravery would eventually come.

  This time there was too much at stake. So every day she pulled out her umbrella and courage and walked a block farther than she had the day before.

  Mackenzie found a numbing slice of solace in her daily routine. The tedious monotony kept her busy enough to avoid thinking about Hunter and forced her to rejoin the world of the living. Not that she could call barely eating, sleeping, or writing living, by any means. But every day got easier.

  The nights were another story—a rather embarrassing one that still involved a little canine spooning and that damn shirt she’d hidden from Savannah, unable to let go of her last piece of Hunter.

  She stroked the soft fabric now as she half shuffled through the kitchen to make herself a much-needed cup of chamomile tea. Just her, her panties, her sleep tank, and Hunter’s shirt.

  Oh, and an unharnessed Muttley, who was usually one step in front of her. Tonight, however, he was right at her heels, brushing his body against hers, not in a signal of danger but to offer comfort and request it in return.

  Another clap of thunder shook the walls, knocking something to the floor, and a loud thud filled the air. Confused, Muttley shoved against Mackenzie’s legs in a command to stop. She bent down and ran a soothing hand through his coat.

  “It’s okay, buddy,” she said, tugging at his collar and directing him to his pillow in the corner. “You just stay here while I make some tea.”