Not So Happily Ever After (British Bad Boys)

by Phillips, Christina

  It rings a vague bell in the back of my mind. “Yes.” I’m not sure where she’s going with this, but it’s not what I expected.

  “I was visiting some of the residents this afternoon.”

  Definitely didn’t see this one coming. “What, like visiting the ones who don’t have any family?”

  She frowns. “It’s not really like that. Brook and I started when we were fifteen, as part of a charity project we were doing at school, but we kept going afterward because, well, it was fun.”

  She’s been doing this for more than six years? “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “I don’t know. It never came up in conversation. I don’t get the time to visit as often as I used to, before Uni.”

  “What do you do? Read to them?”

  She shakes her head, but there’s a small smile on her face. “Who do you think taught Brook how to knit and crochet? It certainly wasn’t her mum.”

  I’d no idea Brooklyn could do either, but I’m more interested in Mac. “You can knit?”

  “No. Some of the residents tried to teach me, but I could never get the hang of it. I spend time with them, listen to their stories. Tell them a few of my own.” She hesitates, as though she’s having second thoughts about sharing. “They kind of like me to sketch them.”

  “Really?” I’m crazily pleased she’s still doing her art, even if she brushed off my questions the other day. On Saturday morning, after all, we were still in the weird zone. “That’s great.”

  Some of the tension leaves her shoulders. Why was she stressed, anyway? It’s not like her. I’ve the insane urge to sling my arm around her and give her a hug.

  A friendly hug. Right.

  Not sure our newfound friendship is ready for that.

  A couple of hours later, I walk her home. It’s only a few minutes from the pub, and as we cross the Portobello Road, somehow our fingers link together. Was that me or her? I shoot her a sideways glance, but she’s looking straight ahead, almost as though she’s no idea we’re holding hands.

  Stealthily, I tighten my fingers around hers, and she doesn’t snatch her hand away. Instead, she subtly leans my way, her arm barely grazing mine, and it’s the sexiest damn thing ever.

  We reach her house way too soon and stand by the doorstep facing each other, still holding hands. It’d be funny if it weren’t so surreal.

  “Good night, then.” There’s a husky note in her voice I’ve never heard before.

  Yes, I have. But only once, and she was in my bed.

  “Night.” It comes out like a growl.

  Let go of her hand. I tug her forward, and she doesn’t pull back. It’s like I’m sixteen again, taking a girl home after a date, standing on the doorstep before stealing a good-night kiss.

  Don’t kiss her. But it’s a faint warning, drowned out by the primal need pounding through me. In the half-light that spills from the miniature streetlamp by the side of the house, she’s gazing at me. Lips parted, breath uneven. And her scent, which has been driving me crazy all night, drifts in the air between us like an unspoken promise.

  Closer. Her breath is warm against my jaw, and her fingers tighten around mine. It’s a bad idea. The worst. We’ve been friends again for only two days. Am I really going to risk ruining things again for one fleeting kiss?

  Nothing’s worth that. I’m not going to screw this up. I need her in my life. Even if she can never be anything more but one of the best friends I’ve ever had.

  Say goodbye and walk away.

  Our lips meet, and she’s soft and sweet. Just like the first time. A tortured groan burns my throat, and a shudder runs through her.

  Pull back.

  Like that’s even an option. I cradle her face, my thumb stroking her heated cheek. She sighs and slides the tip of her tongue into my mouth, and my whole damn brain shuts down.

  Blinding light cuts through the night, freezing us to the spot. Headlights. Mac’s dad.

  Shit.

  My reflexes are shot to hell, but she pulls back, panting. She doesn’t take her eyes from me as she untangles our fingers. I drag my hand over my head. Should I say something?

  Like what?

  Her dad parks in front of the garage and gets out of the car. She swings around as he reaches us. He kisses her on the cheek then turns to me as if there’s nothing strange about me standing here with Mac. “Hello, Will. Are you coming in for a nightcap?”

  I’m guessing he didn’t see the kiss. Thank Christ.

  “Sorry. Things to do.” There’s no way I’m accepting his offer. Not when I’ve got an epic hard-on. I don’t think I’ll even be able to walk straight, never mind sit down.

  He opens the front door and goes inside, and Mac hovers on the doorstep, an unreadable expression on her face. But then she takes a deep breath as though she’s come to a decision.

  “Thanks for tonight. It was fun.”

  “Anytime.”

  “Okay. See you around.”

  I can’t figure out if it’s a question or an invitation, or just an empty expression that means nothing. I grunt, and she slowly closes the door in my face.

  So much for going back to being friends only. The first time we’re alone and I can’t keep my hands to myself. I’ve just proved there’s no going back. Even though she’ll never share my bed again, I can’t forget that night. It’s branded in my brain. And now that we’ve moved past the weird zone of the last couple of years, my despicable need to touch her is like an impossible addiction.

  There’s only one thing I can do.

  I need to stay the hell away from Mackenzie Carter.

  Chapter Six

  Mackenzie

  Do. Not. Call. Will.

  The annoying mantra’s been reverberating around my head all day. It’s like a virus invading every thought, and Brooklyn’s solution—that I should have more sex with Will to get over him—haunts me.

  Tried that once. Look what happened. Not going there again.

  I groan and try to focus on the sketch I’m doing in the back garden. Although it’s September the weather today is gorgeous, and if there’s a choice, I always prefer being outside. Even though I should be going through the recommended reading for next term. God knows I need to. But I couldn’t concentrate, and drawing always calms me down.

  Not today, though. I can’t stop replaying Monday night in my head.

  It’s the kiss you can’t stop obsessing over.

  This time I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t block the possessive gleam in his eyes or the feel of his hand on my face when we kissed. It was sexy and tender, just like our first one under the mistletoe, when I forgot everything but how right it felt being in his arms.

  I forgot about everything last night, too. I don’t know how we ended up holding hands, and I should’ve pulled free. But I didn’t. Because his touch lights up something deep inside me, and it’s scarily addictive.

  It’s insane, and so wrong, I can’t even, but it was like I’d been waiting for that moment for the last two years.

  Get over yourself, Mac. It was a friendly kiss that hurtled out of control. And Dad turning up was a razor-sharp reminder of why being alone with Will is never going to work. Not if we plan on staying friends.

  And I do want to salvage our friendship.

  Before sleeping with him, I’d kissed loads of boys. Some of them weren’t half bad at it, either. But all of them paled into insignificance after Will and I locked lips that Christmas night.

  Although technically it was a one-night stand, it never felt that way to me. We’ve known each other nearly all my life. And while friends at Uni hookup and don’t think twice about it, I can’t get into it. Which means I’m not only going to be dateless for the next four years, I won’t be having any sex, either.

  And stop thinking about his revelation. I don’t know why I’m so stunned by the fact he’s been in a serious relationship. It happened more than three years ago, and there’s no reason why he should’ve told me at the
time. It’s not a big deal.

  Yes, it is.

  “Fuck.” I slam my sketchbook shut. “Fuck.” I hug the book to my chest and scowl across the garden. Which doesn’t help because it reminds me the reason it’s in such good shape is that Will’s been looking after it. “Double fuck. And hairy balls.”

  Swearing always improves my mood, even if the hairy balls comment can’t justifiably be aimed his way.

  Get your mind out of the gutter. He’s strictly off-limits when it comes to thinking about testicles.

  My phone rings and I grab it, for some insane reason expecting to see Will’s name. It’s not.

  It’s a text from Baz, Atomic Fire’s manager. God, I hope Jake’s all right.

  Thankfully, it seems Jake’s over his career crisis, as the band is holding a big party to celebrate surviving their close shave with death. It’s on Saturday week, which is the last weekend before I’m back at Uni.

  My stomach sinks at that reminder, but I ignore it. No point stressing about the inevitable. In any case, I need to get ready to go out. Diane and Joe, a couple of guys who work for Harry, are celebrating their engagement this evening. And if I know anything, it’s that Will won’t be there tonight.

  It takes less than an hour to drive to Harry’s workplace, Blitz. It’s not far from the warehouse where they used to be last year, but this is a self-contained building in a purpose-built business park. It has none of the charm of the warehouse and is as ugly as fuck, but it does its job.

  I park the car, show some ID to the new security guy who doesn’t know me, and he buzzes through for someone to open the door.

  Alice opens the door, and we hug. “Seriously, though,” I say, as we make our way upstairs, where there’s an open plan workspace that’s great for entertaining, “couldn’t Harry and Caleb have taken the party to a nightclub or something?”

  “Di arranged the party, and there was never any question that it wouldn’t be held here. I don’t think half the guys would even turn up if it wasn’t at Blitz.”

  “True,” I concede. Harry certainly found his tribe when he pulled the workforce of Blitz together.

  The whole floor is festooned with banners and balloons, and there’s a huge buffet along the wall. We find Di by the food, and I ooh and aah over her engagement ring. I’ve known Di forever, as she was in the same year as my brothers at school and is almost as brilliant at all things coding as Harry.

  Caleb, Harry’s BFF and business partner, joins us and hands me a bottle of water. He doesn’t even need to ask what I’m drinking, since he knows I’m driving later. “Not seen you much lately,” he says.

  I take a long swallow of the water. “Mmm. Busy with the research placement.” It was eight weeks at the hospital’s research institute, and I worked my butt off.

  It’s hard, though, when everything I do is judged by the impeccable standards set by my mum.

  It’s hard when your heart’s not in it.

  “How did that go?” He smiles at me, and I smother a sigh. I’ve known Caleb all my life. But unlike Will, he’s like another brother to me and there’s no way I could tell him the whole truth.

  “It was good.” Not really a lie. I enjoyed parts of it, but no matter how hard I focused, I just wasn’t one hundred percent into it like the other students were. The important thing is, I didn’t flunk it.

  Meg joins us, bumping arms with Caleb. “Hey, Mac.”

  I’ve known her for ages, too. She used to work with Caleb before Blitz was born, and she’s so nice. When is he going to realize she’s in love with him?

  Honestly, I should set up a matchmaking service. I practically had to give Harry cue cards the first time he went out with Alice.

  Harry comes over, wraps his arm around Alice, and nuzzles her neck. It’s completely adorable watching them together, but he’s also my brother.

  “Ugh. Eating, here.” I wave my half-eaten vegetable ball at him. “You need to—” The rest of my mockery lodges in my throat as Will strolls into the room, glances around, and then makes a beeline for me.

  I clutch my bottle of water and shove the rest of my vegetable ball into my mouth, so it stops me from saying anything completely stupid. How did he know I was here? What does this even mean? More importantly, what am I going to do about it?

  You’re going to be cool because you’re good friends again, right?

  That’s right. No problem. Just remember, under no circumstances grab his hand or try and kiss him.

  “Hey, congrats, Di.” He gives her a hug, and then she waves her hand with the ring under his nose. I choke down my food, aided by a big gulp of water.

  He’s not here because of me. He went to school with Di, too.

  He and Harry give each other buddy arm punches, and he shoots a smile my way before returning to the conversation. I join in, so I don’t look conspicuous, but my mind’s not on it.

  This is ridiculous. It’s never been easy socializing with Will since we slept together, but up until Saturday, I could always hide behind my shield of mocking indifference. Except I didn’t need a shield over the weekend because things were pretty great between us. Even before we agreed to the let’s-be-friends-again thing.

  And let’s face it. The kiss was fantastic, too. That’s why I hoped he wouldn’t be here tonight. So I didn’t have to face him. Which is all kinds of stupid because it’s not like I shocked him with a surprise smooch. It was totally mutual.

  And it can’t happen again, no matter what.

  …

  Will

  I knew Mac would be here tonight. It was the deciding factor to take Di up on the invite.

  So much for staying the hell away from her.

  Like that was going to happen. I’ve lost count how often she’s been on my mind since last night. And not in the platonic my-best-friend’s-little-sister way, either.

  Fuck, no. I can still feel how soft her skin was beneath my fingers. The way she tasted and clung onto me as I crossed all the lines again.

  “Are you looking forward to going back to university?” Alice asks Mac.

  “Yes, sure.” Mac smiles. Am I the only one who sees how tense she is? Or maybe she hasn’t told everyone how tough she’s finding the course. I have the crazy idea to crash the conversation and change the subject. “You?”

  As the girls talk about Uni, I grab a beer. Not that Mac’s saying a lot. She’s just asking Alice questions.

  I frown and take a slug of beer. I get that Uni is harder than she expected, but something feels wrong. It’s like she doesn’t want to talk about it at all, which doesn’t make sense, considering how big a part of her life Uni is now.

  “Harry.” Alice turns in his arms to face him. “When are you going to do your speech?”

  Harry? Do a speech? That’ll be the day. I glance at Mac and grin, and she smiles back, obviously on my wavelength when it comes to the limits of her brother’s sociability.

  “Right.” He doesn’t sound horrified, the way he always did when Lucas and I used to invite him to go clubbing with us. He slaps Caleb on the shoulder, and the pair of them head toward the back of the room. I catch Mac’s eye, and she pulls a comical face.

  Somehow, we end up standing next to each other.

  Yeah, like that’s an accident.

  It’s as though my feet have a mind of their own. Her subtle scent makes it hard to concentrate, but I’m not going to fall off the wagon like I did Monday night. At least she’s not calling me out on that, as I have no excuse.

  Focus.

  “Since when does Harry do speeches?”

  She shrugs. “Beats me. Mind you, he’s always been outgoing when it comes to the guys in Blitz. It’s just the rest of the world he likes to avoid.”

  Harry and Caleb deliver a routine that floors me. The look of shock on Mac’s face probably mirrors my own.

  “It’s like I don’t even know him,” she hisses in my ear. Her breath tickles, and it’s way too much of a turn-on, but I stand my ground. Masochist, m
uch?

  The guys finish with a toast for the happy couple and receive an equal amount of applause and insults from the crowd. I face Mac, and she doesn’t back off, even though we’re close enough to kiss.

  Don’t link Mac and kiss in the same sentence. It’s way too dangerous. And when it comes to her, I’ve already proved my resistance factor is less than useless.

  She’s gazing at me with those beautiful blue eyes and if I don’t speak, this moment will die.

  Let it die, you wanker.

  Except I like the way she’s looking at me way too much.

  “You going to the survivor party?” Because yeah, that’s how Atomic Fire have labeled it.

  She laughs but still doesn’t back up. Jesus, it’s hot in here.

  “You really think we have a choice? Poor, deluded, Will.”

  “It did read like a royal command. I thought I was being paranoid.”

  “On the plus side, it’ll kill any rumors that the fundraiser’s in trouble.”

  “True,” I concede. “At least it isn’t next weekend. That would’ve been a pain in the arse.”

  She looks intrigued. “What’s happening next weekend?”

  “I’ll be in Snowdonia.”

  “Snowdonia? As in Wales?” She sounds incredulous. “Why?”

  “I’m meeting up with some mates from Uni.” I don’t want her thinking that’s code for spending the weekend getting hammered. “They own an adventure camp for kids.” I ignore the regret that stabs through my chest. Another couple of years in the family firm, that’s all, and then I’ll take my place as a full-time working partner at Oakland Camp instead of the sleeping status I have right now.

  “Wow, really? That’s awesome.”

  “It’s good. I try and get up there every month.”

  “I didn’t know that.” She pinches her lips together, and I stare, fascinated, as she lets out a long breath. “I just mean it never occurred to me you’d hang out in the wilds of Wales that often.”