“Are you taking a break? I was just about to order some food, but I can wait a while if you want to share a drink with me?”
I’m within touching distance of the man I have obsessed about all day, and it takes a ridiculous amount of self-control not to reach out and pull him to me, to soothe the craving I’ve endured for hours.
I can feel Tal’s stare as I stand in front of Macs. He’s undoubtedly wondering what the hell I’m doing out of the kitchen during a busy service, but it’s easy to ignore him when Macsen’s full attention is on me.
“Actually, if you can give me five minutes to grab a quick shower and get changed, I was going to ask if you’re free to go out somewhere. I’ve been given the night off.” Again, I steadfastly ignore Tal’s burning stare as I address Macsen, knowing he just heard my words. Tal is probably wondering if the world has ended. I never take time off.
“Who has enough sway to give the boss of the place a night off?” Macsen asks with a smile.
“That would be the boss’s irritating younger cousin.”
He nods knowingly, his gaze eating me up, drinking me in as if he’s been as starved for me as I am for him. To an outsider watching us, we likely appear as giddy teenagers, each of us unable to look away from the other, shy smiles on our lips.
“Then, my answer is yes. I’d love to go out with you. I got off a little early tonight and was intending to grab something here while waiting for you to finish. But it seems my evening has got even better than I’d hoped.”
I want to lean in and kiss the curve of his lips and those damn dimpled creases that bracket his mouth when he smiles, but I’m mindful I don’t have the right to do that yet.
I don’t even really know what’s happening between us at the moment.
Are we… dating?
That word used to make me cringe—my balls would shrivel up and hide at the mere mention of it. But now, now it seems too… trivial for what’s happening here between us, even if I don’t have a name for it or understand it.
Instead of the kiss I want, I reach out and squeeze his shoulder, needing any kind of contact I can get.
“Great. Have another drink, and I’ll be back before you finish it. I know the ideal place to go.”
He nods. “Sounds perfect.”
I risk a glance at Tal as I turn to leave. His face is confused, yes, but it’s also ridiculously… happy, judging by the stupid thumbs up he gives me along with a grin wider than the Cheshire cat’s.
“I don’t pay you to listen in on private conversations. I pay you to sell beer,” I grumble as I walk away. Of course, Tal takes my threat for what it is—bullshit and bluster—and goes back to fixing Macsen his refill.
I run up the stairs to my flat, taking them two at a time, and I’m naked before I get to the threshold of the bathroom door, my chef’s whites and underwear discarded without care in a trail of enthusiasm.
A quick shower, shave, and I’m back downstairs, as promised, before Macsen has taken his last sip.
“Somebody’s eager,” Tal tells the glass he’s drying, loud enough for half the pub to hear, but I don’t bite. I don’t even give him the finger.
All I can focus on is Macsen standing in wait for me.
“Come on then, boss man. Let’s play hooky. Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see when we get there. It’s only a short walk, but I think you’ll like the place.”
He lets me take the lead out of Safe Harbour, and then we walk comfortably side-by-side down the cobbled streets, taking little-known alleys and shortcuts and chatting about our day.
It feels easy, walking with him, exchanging stories and anecdotes. It feels right—like we’ve done this our entire lives.
He laughs when I tell him about Iris practically kicking me out of my own kitchen and admits his mind hasn’t been on his work, either.
I’m searching for the words to ask why he’s kept such a distance if he feels the way I do, when he drops a question of his own.
“My best friend Rex arrives tomorrow. I’d love for him to meet you if that’s okay?”
It comes out of left field and throws me for a loop. When I don’t offer a response within a few seconds, he adds, “He’s my business partner, and he’s coming to see the manor. It would be great to introduce you both.”
Is it weird that I can tell he’s left out a lot of information from that one sentence?
“He’s a part-owner of the manor house?” I eventually ask, my head tilting to observe his face when he answers, trying to see if I can find the words he’s leaving out.
Macsen feels my gaze and turns his head, his eyes finding mine.
“No. The manor isn’t a joint venture. I bought it without Rex’s knowledge.”
And there it is.
“You came here without his knowledge, too, didn’t you?”
He turns his attention back to the street, avoiding my stare, and once more considering his words. And I hate that he keeps doing so.
“You don’t need to filter the information you give me, Macs.” The frustration in my voice is impossible to ignore. “I’d hoped after the other night we could move past drip-feeding me truths. You drop a bomb on me, an unbelievable one at that, and expect me to be okay with only knowing the things you find suitable.”
“I’m not lying to you, Ellis.” His voice is soft and earnest.
“I didn’t accuse you of lying, but omission is equally as shitty. If you want me to accept this, Macs, you have to trust me with it all. No hiding, no holding back. Trust that I’m big enough and ugly enough to come to the right conclusions.”
He keeps his gaze on the ground ahead, his features in profile, and I can still tell he’s mulling over his response. But there’s a little hurt and shame there, too.
“You’re right,” he offers after long moments of nothing other than the sound of our feet on the cobbles and the voices of the people we pass. His eyes once more find mine, and I see the plea in his gaze. “But I’m trying to do the right thing, Ell. I don’t want to scare you away. I couldn’t bear it.”
I snort. It isn’t an attractive sound.
“Don’t you think if anything was going to scare me away, it would be finding out I’m your long-lost imaginary friend?”
“You’re not imaginary. I haven’t made you up.”
“You know what I mean, Macs.”
Silence.
“Listen, you’re dealing with someone that Iris would call ‘emotionally stunted’. I don’t do relationships or”—I flick a hand between us— “whatever the hell is going on between us. That alone has me floundering here, Macs. Add to that the fact I know—and don’t even ask me how I do—that you’re keeping things from me, and I’m about near ready to…”
I can’t finish the sentence. What am I threatening here? To walk away? I rub a hand over my chest at the sharp, phantom pain stabbing behind my ribs. The mere thought of never seeing him again is unimaginable agony.
“You could walk away from me?” Macsen’s voice is wary and laced with fear. When I don’t answer, because I can’t lie to him, he adds, “Because that is the last thing I’m trying to let happen, Ellis. I came here for you. I bought Lily Bay Manor… for you.”