Mac (Riders of Apollo #8)

Chapter Ten: Mackenzie Grant

I shouldn't be doing this, I haven't done it for years but with these new feelings that keep escalating with every minute I am near Eva, I feel the need to. I bring the dusty package from the back of my closet and walk to my office with it tightly in my grip. 

I rest it on my desk with much more gentleness than it deserves. I should've burned the fucking thing years ago, well Bear should've burned it years ago, but he let me keep it, if just to fuel my own anger. I look away from the package when someone knocks at the door, I can see her resting against the doorframe looking as sad as I feel. 

"Hey." Her eyes flick from the package to me, as if she knows exactly what I'm feeling without me even explaining it to her. Eva takes my head nod as permission to come in and settles into the chair opposite me. "Are you okay?"

"I should be asking you that." I respond, looking at her as if I'm really seeing her for the first time. She's less intimidating now that I know she feels things, she's always been so well put together but she almost shattered in front of us though she kept up a good front. 

"Yeah, I suppose. But I did ask you first." I look back down at the package and find myself unable to open it. I'm scared of what I'll feel if I do. I don't want to feel anything for her anymore, no anger, no sadness, no grief, just a blissful nothing. I move to open it, finding my hands stiff when I grip the first part of it. "Did you need some help?" 

I look up at her, her sad, tired eyes and soft hair, and feel my heart relax at knowing she's here. I nod numbly and she rounds the desk with slow steps. Instead of taking the package away and ripping it open like I thought she would, she slides her hands over mine and encourages me to do it myself.

My skin feels hot against hers but my body seems almost relieved by it, begging for more. The paper falls away from the cut and I stare at it, figuring out how I feel about the piece of fabric that dictated so many of my years. "I haven't looked at this thing for years." I tilt my head back to look at her and find no judgement in her eyes, no questions either, just care. 

She settles onto the arm of my chair, her body close enough to feel the warmth but without touching. I unfurl the fabric to reveal my property claim written in large, white letters. "I thought it would look different, like the time would undo the stitching or something. When I first wrapped it up it was just to hide it from Bear, I didn't want him to burn it because then it really meant that it was over but really it was over before she even left the cut." 

My hands flatten the fabric and I feel nothing, just like I wanted. "After that I took it out once a year. First few years I was livid, few years after that I was just sad then I just put it away and didn't take it out again for a long fucking time. Now I just feel nothing and I don't know if that's a good thing." 

"Does it feel like a good thing?" Her voice washes over me, comforting me and reminding me why I chose to do this in the first place.

"Yeah, it feels like a good thing." I smile up at her and she returns it, squeezing my shoulder seconds later. 

"Then it's a good thing." I debate what to do with the leather in front of me. I could take it to Bear for him to burn, I could bundle the thing back up and put it in the closet, I could throw it in the trash. "What are you thinking?" 

"I don't know what to do with this, it doesn't mean anything to me anymore." Her hand drifts to my forearm, wrapping around it and sending a current through my body. I fight my urge to tug her off the arm of the chair and into my lap, I really consider doing it as well. 

"Will talking to Bear help? I'm not sure about the rules of the club so I can't tell you-" I do it, her sentence cut short and a small gasp elicited as she lands on me. It's a good thing that she shut the door behind her because people would be way too interested in our movements. "Hello." She greets breathlessly, her face inches away from mine. 

"I'm going to do something and I really don't want you to shoot me." Her eyes widen, probably predicting what I'm about to do. 

"Why would I shoot you?" I don't answer her, I just kiss her like I've been dreaming about for weeks. She freezes momentarily but melts into me, tilting her head and returning my kiss with a fervour. I part her lips with my tongue and she gasps again as I drag her closer by gripping her waist. 

Her hands lace behind my head and we keep going until we're good and breathless. "You have very strange timing, Mac." Her cloudy eyes open to survey me, her lips puffy and her cheeks flushes. 

"I couldn't help it." I shrug, keeping her close and forgetting about every problem I've faced over the years. She laughs softly, looking down at my chest where her hands are now resting. "Are you okay with that?"

"If you kiss me like that, I don't care when you do it." She winks at me, regaining her confidence, and slips out of my lap. She fixes her appearance in the mirror on my wall, blows me a kiss and then leaves. Reality comes crashing back down on me. 

I just kissed her. I just yanked her into my lap and stuck my tongue in her mouth after talking about my ex, whose jacket is sat on my desk in front of me. Yeah, I do have strange timing but I can't find it in myself to give a fuck because she kissed me back. 

The mysterious, gorgeous and caring woman who continues to confuse the lot of us, kissed me back. I am on cloud nine. I rest back in my chair, licking my lips and still tasting her there, feeling her against me and melting under my touch. 

Today will easily go down as one of the best days of my life and I'm waiting impatiently to relieve it.