Turning to Stone (Heart of Stone: Book 2)

Chapter 35: Party, Pt 2

Chapter 35: Party, Pt 2

While Ed danced with Charlotte, I sneaked off to the kitchen for some alone time. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, and Ed at least looked like he was enjoying himself, even if it was partially a front.

As for Holly, I could only assume she slid into celebrities' DMs regularly because she hadn't shown any interest in my boyfriend save for polite conversations as a group.

"You holding up okay, Palmer?" Mac breezed through the kitchen door and made a beeline for the alcohol bottles stood next to the fridge.

I nodded from my seat at the table. "Yep. Just needed a few minutes."

"Can I get you anything?" he asked as he poured a generous helping of vodka into a glass.

"I'm good. How've you been, Mac?"

He turned to face me and leaned back against the counter, glass in one hand, the other sliding into his pocket.

"Fine. Thanks." His brow furrowed. "I actually wanted to talk to you about..."

He trailed off as the door opened again and Mike stuck his head through the gap. His eyes bounced between Mac and me.

"Oh. Sorry. Am I interrupting?"

Shaking his head, Mac pushed off the counter. "Not at all. Catch up later, Palmer." He squeezed my shoulder as he passed me, then nodded at Mike before re-joining the party in the living room.

"Got a few minutes, Soph?" Mike asked, letting the door swing shut.

Thumbs hooked into his belt loops, he strolled cautiously towards the table. I lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug and gestured for him to take a seat opposite me.

So much for my alone time.

"Listen..." Mike steepled his fingers on the tabletop, closing his eyes briefly. "What Teddy offered earlier..." His gaze flicked up to meet mine, sincere and honest, and for a second I was transported back to the hundreds of times I'd stared into those deep brown eyes during our time together. "I'm honestly a bit mortified about the whole thing. I clearly completely fucked up with Becca by making that stupid comment to break the ice, and now he probably thinks I only brought up the fundraising to shake his pockets."

"He won't think that. I can't even begin to tell you how much red tape he has in his life, so he doesn't just throw money around. He wouldn't have made that offer if he wasn't genuinely passionate about it."

Mike swallowed and leaned back in his chair, hands dropping to his lap as he glanced towards the kitchen door.

"On the subject of Becca," he said, dragging his gaze back onto me, "I want you to know that I never looked at her in that way when you and I were together."

My stomach clenched. It shouldn't have surprised me that he'd bring it up; apart from the later stages of our relationship, he'd always been thoughtful and sensitive. But it was the first time we'd seen each other since going our separate ways four years ago, and the overt reference to our shared history stirred some uncomfortable feelings.

"And I didn't actively pursue her either," he continued when I didn't reply. The intensity of his stare, like his clear conscience depended on me believing him, rendered my limbs immobile. "I don't know why you two don't talk anymore, but we only reconnected because we bumped into each other at a bar earlier this year. It was a coincidence, but it was fun, so... Yeah."

"You're not the reason we don't talk," I told him. "So you don't need to worry about that."

The corner of his mouth lifted into a strained smile, but then his eyes fell to my fingers resting on the crimson tablecloth. Apprehension clogged my throat, blocking any potential excuse or justification from surfacing. When the urge to reposition my hands nagged at me, I banished it. Trying to hide the ring would only suggest it held more significance than in reality.