“Thanks, Mac.” She opened the fridge to grab a slice.
“I put the butterscotch schnapps in the freezer.” Mac turned off the water and grabbed a fluffy yellow dish towel. “Some of the other guests were eyeing the bottle, and I wanted to make sure there was still some left for you.”
Tyler, “Mac” as his friends called him, wasn’t as social as his younger brother. He had sharp umber eyes, a dark beard, and some enviable biceps thanks to the blacksmithing he did in the detached garage-turned-forge. He was a little quiet and a lot prickly, but he didn’t seem to mind the crazy festivities his brother’s girl liked to host.
“Thanks,” Maggie said again. Almost everyone she knew made fun of her drink of choice, but not Mac.
Maggie and Mac only crossed paths at the house. He had the uncanny ability to show up when they needed to even out the players during game night. He’d single-handedly taught Maggie how to work the controllers on the Switch when she’d said she wanted to learn to play Mario. He’d shown her the buttons and kept a straight face when her longest survival time didn’t break eight seconds. Cal had laughed so hard he’d fallen off the couch.
“I can heat that up for you.” Mac leaned his compact body back against the counter, and Maggie mirrored him as she lifted her pizza to her mouth.
“Not necessary,” she said around a healthy bite. “It defies all laws known to humankind, but cold pizza tastes better than warm pizza.”
Mac nodded. Maggie took another mouthful. Sorento’s had the perfect sauce to cheese to crust ratio, which meant Maggie didn’t end up staining her clothes with grease or tomatoes. Maggie was technically an adult, but she still lacked the magic of stain-removal knowledge.
“I’m surprised you didn’t come to the shop tonight for the tournament,” she said. Mac was a pretty regular customer at The Tattered Cover, the comic-book-lover and gamer’s paradise where she worked. In the last year he’d started selling some of his blades to collectors through Gary, the owner. Most of the weapons he sold were replicas of movie props or plucked from the pages of different comics. They were intricate and beautiful, and nothing stayed in stock long.
Mac met her eyes for a moment then turned away to clean his glass. “I don’t play a lot of the booster draft format for Magic. I prefer to play commander.”
“Mac, you know I have no idea what that means.”
He turned to stare. “The tournament tonight is a draft format. You work at a comic book store and don’t understand basic Magic: The Gathering formats? That’s criminal, Maggie.”
“Gary says the same thing, but he hasn’t fired me yet.”
Gary would never fire her. She was dependable, drama-free, and the only employee with handwriting legible enough to write the window displays. She occasionally felt the bite of anxiety when she had to help large groups or deal with angry customers, but her coworker was great at helping step in when she floundered. It also helped that Gary’s mom was Maggie’s second cousin. Sometimes nepotism had its perks.
“You played in the last three tournaments.” Maggie fought down a blush at her blurted words. She didn’t want to seem like she was stalking him. Mac frowned at her. He wasn’t as tall as his brother, at least a few inches under six feet, but even with a smaller difference in their heights, Mac still looked down into her face.
“Just because it isn’t my preferred format doesn’t mean I don’t play, but I had stuff that was more important tonight.”
Of course he did. Several years older than Maggie, Mac taught history at the local college. He probably had papers to grade or lecture notes to prepare.
Mac pulled the schnapps bottle out of the freezer and poured a healthy slug into a cup. He pushed it into Maggie’s hands, and she took it with a smile. Even schnapps burned on the way down, but the syrupy sweetness made it tolerable. Maggie grimaced as she downed the shot. Fruity blended drinks or cheap moscato were about all she could handle. And the occasional schnapps when she wanted a deeper buzz.
“I can make you something different,” Mac said, eyes on her mouth. “You don’t need to drink if you don’t want to.”
“You’re sweet to offer,” Maggie said.
“I’m not sweet.”
“I’m good with schnapps. I might be a homebody, but I promise I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do.”
Tension seemed to seep out of Mac’s broad shoulders. He raised the bottle, and Maggie held out her cup for another shot. He poured and then turned to put the bottle back in the freezer and Maggie let her eyes slip from his shoulders down to his butt in dark denim. She tried to blame her wandering eyes on the double shot she’d downed. She definitely blamed the heat in her cheeks on the alcohol. It definitely wasn’t Mac himself.
“I’ll be out back,” Mac said. “Feel free to join me if you need a break from everything.” He pushed his way out the back door.
Maggie finished her pizza and her second drink and then straightened her shoulders—good posture made people appear more confident—and made her way back into the party. She found Audrey in the middle of the living room, her arms wrapped around her boyfriend’s neck as she sucked on his tongue. That wasn’t anything new. Neither was the hand Cal had shoved up the front of Audrey’s shirt. No one was paying the couple any attention, so Maggie turned away to look for other familiar faces. She could say hi to her friend when she disentangled. Or maybe even tomorrow. Given how tightly the two pressed against each other, it was plausible that they’d be disappearing sooner rather than later.
“How much would I have to pay you to blind me?” A husky voice said, and Maggie almost swallowed her own tongue. “I like Cal, but they could aim for a lower profile, don’t you think? Or just not invite me.”
Maggie’s heart rate tripled its beat beneath her sternum. A faint ringing had started up in her ears, but she wasn’t sure if that was because of the loud music or Dean’s proximity. He had the same green eyes and sandy blonde hair as her best friend. Same wide smile with perfect white teeth. Audrey was tall, and Dean was taller. He had to bend almost in half to place his mouth next to her ear, but Maggie’s height was below average. She turned towards his voice, and only inches separated their mouths.
“I—” Maggie wet her lips to try again, “Dean, hi.”
“Hey, Babs.” Dean said.
He’d always called her that ever since she first met Audrey on the bus to kindergarten. As a third grader, Dean had named himself their protector. He never seemed to mind having two pipsqueaks chasing him around. Dean smiled, eyes twinkling in the dim light, and he slung an arm around Maggie’s shoulders to pull her into his body. He’d always been quick with a hug, doling out easy affection. He’d been Maggie’s first kiss, although she was pretty sure he didn’t know that she counted the quick touch of their lips at his high school graduation party as her first.