“Fuck knows what else.”
Her laugh is soft. Easy. “Holden is… he’s the only person who treats me the same.”
“What do you expect?”
“I don’t know. I…” Her eyes fill with frustration. Another look I know well.
Another look that begs me to comfort her.
She’s still so tiny, like she’s going to blow away in a breeze, like she might disappear if no one keeps an eye on her.
“To… uh…” She holds up her glass.
“True love.”
“Okay.” She shakes her head that’s ridiculous, but she still clinks glasses.
I finish my wine in one gulp.
She takes a smaller sip. “You and Skye look happy.”
“We are.” I refill my glass.
Mack’s gaze goes to the bottle. Her posture stiffens. Her lip corners turn down.
I take a long sip. Swallow hard. The second glass is better. Or I’m already getting drunk. Maybe that’s what I need. To let my inhibitions dissolve. To lose myself in the moment the way I did upstairs. “You and Diego?”
She bites her lip. “Usually, yeah. We… it’s stupid.”
“Is it?”
She nods. “Tell me more about you and Skye. How did it happen? When did you know? It’s just such a crazy story. I never thought you two would get together. You were so insistent you weren’t interested.”
Fuck, I wish I knew how it happened. When. It’s obvious now. I want Skye. Need her. Can’t have her.
Even if I was willing to let her accept less than she deserves, she wants someone else.
She isn’t mine.
She won’t ever be mine.
I take another sip. “It wasn’t one moment, I guess. More an awareness that set in more every day.”
She nods, listening.
“Skye and I were always friends, but we didn’t get really close until after—” I finish my glass. Fuck, that’s a lot. My entire mouth puckers. But I still pour another. “Until after you fucked Diego.”
“I—”
“You want the story or you want to apologize?”
She plays with her engagement ring. “Go on.”
“She took pity on my pathetic ass. But she never treated me like that. Like I was a loser for not moving on.”
“But you did…” Her gaze stays on her shiny rock. “You moved on.”
I don’t know anymore. “I didn’t realize it, at first. Skye became a part of my life. My favorite part. I’d be at the gym, counting down the minutes until I could get home and make her dinner. Or I’d be at work, smiling every time she texted back. Or I’d help her on some photo shoot. And… she gets this look when she steps behind the camera. Like she’s exactly where she belongs. Like she wants to discover every inch of the thing, everything that makes it tick or purr.” My chest warms. That is Skye. She is big and bright. Like the sun. Like the moon. Like the stars. “She asked me for help once. She needed a male model.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” A few hours ago, but it’s still true. “It was a sexy shoot. We were pretending. But there was something about having her body that close. About feeling all her softness. Smelling her shampoo.”
“When did you know?”
“I think I always knew. But when I kissed her… I couldn’t deny it anymore.” I can’t deny it anymore.
Mack watches me refill my glass. Says nothing.
I offer her a top-off.
She nods sure. “Did it start then?”
It’s been going on for a long time. I’ve wanted her for a long time. “It was physical at first. I thought that was it. That I needed to get laid. But then I’d see her dancing to her favorite song, groaning over her matcha, crying at the end of Before Sunset. It hit me a little at a time. Then all at once.”
“And she felt the same?”
“Yeah.” No. I don’t know. There’s another guy. But maybe… Maybe she’s over him. Maybe she wants me more. Maybe I can make her forget. I swallow another sip. “It’s hard to believe someone like Skye would want a guy who’s such a mess.”
“You’re not a mess, Forest.” Mack’s nails tap the glass table. She watches them work for a moment then she looks up at me. “She gives you what you need?”
I study her face, trying to find her intentions.
She can’t possibly mean—
But she does.
“Does she get me off?” I raise a brow. “Are you really asking that?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
She stares at the floor. “It’s just hard to believe that she’d fill your needs.”
“What is it this time, Mack? Her style is too weird? Her clothing size is too big? Her employment status is too pathetic?”
“No, I don’t…”
“How are you going to insult her today?”
“I’m not—”
“That she isn’t kinky enough? Generous enough? Sexual enough?”
She swallows hard.
“Is that what happened with us? I couldn’t make you come so you had to look elsewhere?”
“No.”
“Was I not creative enough?”
“Forest, don’t—”
“If you’re going to insult one of us, it’s me. So tell me. What was it? Was he bigger? Better? Did he last longer? Did he do things I wouldn’t even dream of—”