I push open the door to the pub, and he’s sitting at a table right at the front. For a second, I can’t even believe my eyes. He did come. And he’s early. I’m rooted to the spot like an idiot and don’t know what to say.
“Hey, Mac.” His easy grin breaks my stupid paralysis, and I go over to him as though it’s no big deal he’s here.
“Hi.”
“Got you a Scotch. Hope that was okay.”
My glance drops to the table. “Sure.”
I sit opposite him and take a long gulp of the alcohol. Unfortunately, it doesn’t untie my tongue.
“Look. About yesterday. Bringing your stuff back was just an excuse to see you.”
I might’ve half guessed that, but I never expected him to admit it. “Since when do you need an excuse to see me?”
He frowns as though my question doesn’t make sense. “I didn’t think you’d want to after the things I said on Saturday.”
Don’t melt all over the table. “Well, I said some nice things, too.”
At least he smiles at that. “No. You told me stuff you’d never told anyone else. And I just chucked that in your face like it didn’t mean anything to me. That’s why I’m sorry. It’s what I wanted to say to you last night, but I couldn’t find the words.”
There’s a strange tickling sensation in my throat. His words did rip me apart, but I never expected he would realize how badly he’d hurt me. “Apology accepted.” And I owe him one, too. “I feel terrible about the way I behaved. I just got so tied up in knots over the whole art exhibition thing.”
“You’re not a mind reader. It’s not like I told you what was happening.” He pauses. “Even though I wanted to.”
“But I should’ve been there for you.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve always been here for me.”
That’s one of the nicest things he’s ever said to me, even if it is an exaggeration. Before I can tell him that, the door swings open, and a couple of my friends breeze in. Nooo. I don’t want to share Will with them yet.
I get up and give them a hug. “Can you give me five? I’ll be right with you.”
They give him speculative glances before making their way to the bar. I let out a relieved breath and return to our table.
He gives his beer a brooding look. “Thing is, Mac. What I said on Saturday about not wanting us to split up.” He drags his gaze from his beer, and I just about dissolve from the heat in his gorgeous dark eyes. “Now you’re not at Oxford, I need to know if there’s a chance we could get back together.”
I don’t think I can bear just being friends-with-benefits.
It’s no good. I want to be with him more than anything, but things are different now. I don’t want to keep our relationship a secret. If we’re going to sleep together, I want commitment. “Will.” I only just stop myself from taking his hand, and I flatten my fingers on the table between us instead. “You talk about us splitting up. But we were never really together, were we?”
“I know.” There’s a hollow note in his voice that tears me up. “After what happened with Jenna, I was so sure I didn’t want to get serious with anyone else. And you only wanted a fling because of Uni. But I have to tell you. I was wrong. I’ve always been serious about you.”
Oh my God. Did he really just say that?
“Have you?” My voice is a whisper, and I don’t even care that my question is the dumbest ever.
He looks as though he’s about to face his executioner. “I need to know if I stand a chance with you, now you’ve changed your plans.”
I can’t even find adequate words to think, never mind say. I grip his hand and hang on tight, in case he vanishes if I’m not touching him.
In case this is just a lucid dream and not the best birthday present I’ve ever had.
He squeezes my fingers. “You not speaking isn’t a bad sign, right?”
I sniff. “You want to date me for real and go public with it?”
“I’ll sky-write it above Notting Hill if you want.”
“I might hold you to that.”
He grins. “Is that a yes, then?”
I shake my head. “Come here.” I tug his hand across the table, and he leans toward me. Our kiss is featherlight, but I feel it all the way down to my toes. “That’s a yes, Will.”
He pulls back, and we gaze at each other. I’m sure we look completely besotted, but I don’t care that, from the bar, my friends are making whooping sounds our way.
“I got you something for your birthday.” For some reason, he seems unsure. Does he think I won’t like what he’s got me? Seriously, I’m stoked he got me anything.
He pulls an envelope from his pocket and slides it across the table. Intrigued, I pick it up and pull out a cream, embossed card.
My smile slips as shock punches through me. It’s an invitation from an art gallery located in Camden Market to exhibit my work…on Boxing Day.
I swallow, open my mouth, and nothing comes out.
“If you hate the idea, I’ll cancel.” A worried frown slashes his forehead. “And I mean obviously, you’re going for your art now. But at the time I just thought it was a way to show you how much I believe in your talent. How much I believe in you.”
I’m going to start sniffling if he keeps this up. “I don’t hate it. I love it.” I sniff, anyway. “I don’t even know how you managed to pull this off.”
Galleries book up their space months in advance.
He lets out a relieved breath. “I went on a hunt. Most of the galleries were booked solid, but this one had a late cancellation. Good luck or what? I showed them your sketch of me. Obviously, they want to see your portfolio before they finally commit, but you’ve got this in the bag, Mac.”
I clear my throat. “Thank you. This is like—I can’t even.”
“Whoa.” His grin is the one I love, gorgeous, mocking, and pure Will. “Are you speechless?”
“Yes.”
“Are you my girl?”
I laugh, because seriously? “Yeah.”
“And you don’t care that I’ve just chucked away a fantastic future in the city, for a career that won’t make me a fortune any time soon, if ever?”
“What are you on?” I shake his hand, and an irrepressible warmth spreads through my entire body. “I don’t care about any of that.”
He kisses my knuckles, and all I want to do is cancel the clubbing and spend the night in his arms.
“You know what?” His voice is barely above a sexy whisper. “I love you, Mackenzie Carter.”
This is officially the Best. Night. Ever.
“Guess what?” I lean over the table until our lips are almost touching. “Love you, too.”
Epilogue
Mackenzie
December 23rd
The charity fundraiser for the foundation was epic. There were no last-minute hitches—well, nothing we couldn’t handle—and Atomic Fire set the stage ablaze.
Almost literally. But it worked.
It’s almost midnight by the time we all crash at home. Talk about an extended family. Alice’s mum and partner, Brian, are here, and so are Violet’s parents and her little brother, Sam, who clearly thinks the sun shines out of Lucas’s backside.
“Told you that you’d enjoy it, didn’t I?” Duke grins and slaps Dad’s shoulder.
“It was very entertaining.” Dad almost sounds as though he means it.
We all go into the sitting room, and Dad and Margo disappear into the kitchen to make hot drinks. Everyone’s staying here tonight. Both Harry and Lucas have given up their rooms for their future in-laws and are camping downstairs. Duke’s got the spare bedroom.
And Will’s sleeping in my room. Which is all kinds of weird, as I moved in with him a couple of weeks ago, into the most adorable little cottage we’re renting in the village near Oakland. But my room still looks like it always did. Just like the way Dad’s never done anything with my brothers’ rooms.
The parents and Duke sit on th
e sofas, and before Will and I can grab his favorite chair beside the fire, Harry and Lucas step in front of us.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I glare at them because I’m pretty sure I know what’s coming. This is the first time we’ve all been in the same room since Will and I made our relationship public, and Lucas has barely spoken to his best friend since.
Former best friend. I hate how that happened. We didn’t even go to the Halloween party Lucas arranged, since I didn’t want to put Will in an awkward position.
My brother ignores me. “How much longer are you gonna be a dick?”
“He’s not a dick,” I grind between my teeth. “Honestly, Lucas—”
“I’m not saying I’m ready to forgive you,” he says, magnanimously, “but you could at least make the effort, so my sister still sees her family.”
What the hell is he talking about? “Are you high or something?”
“Okay,” Will says, like my brother is making complete sense.
“Because,” my obviously deluded brother adds, “family’s important.”
“Even I went.” Harry sounds like the prophet of doom.
“Yes, and you looked gorgeous as a knight of Exitium.” Alice gazes at him in adoration, and the penny drops. After all, I saw all the photos on social media.
“Wait. I was the one who refused the invitation to the Halloween party. Not Will.”
Both of my brothers stare at me as though I’ve just sprouted a unicorn horn. “Why would you do that?” Harry asks.
“But you like parties.” Lucas frowns.
“Oh, shut up. You must’ve seen the email was from me, not him.”
“Yeah, but I thought he’d…influenced you.”
Will gives a snort of laughter. “Thought you knew her better than that.”
“I can’t believe you even said that.” I don’t know whether I should laugh, like Will, or give my brother a broken nose.
“I know,” Violet says. “I said to him there’s no way Will would ever tell you what to do, but he was so cut up when you didn’t go, he had to blame someone.”
“I wasn’t fucking cut up,” Lucas growls, and Violet gives his arm a little pat.
An unwanted trickle of guilt slides through me. “I’m sorry. I thought maybe it was, you know, too soon.”
Lucas still looks highly offended, and I bite my lip against the urge to giggle, not helped when both Violet and Alice looks as though they’re doing the same.
“Just so you know,” Will says to Lucas, “I’d do anything to make Mac happy. I’m sorry if I screwed up our friendship, but she’s my number one priority. And always will be.”
It’s a physiological impossibility, but I swear my heart expands until it fills my entire chest. I hook my arm through his and don’t even care if I have a ridiculously gooey smile on my face.
Lucas makes a sound somewhere between a growl and a gag. “All right, then.”
“It’s all very exciting about your new degree,” Alice says, changing the subject. “How’s that all going?”
“I’m going to be spending the next six months covered in paint getting a portfolio together.” Aberystwyth is my number one choice. And not just because it’s not far from Oakland.
“Mac has an exhibition at Camden Market on Boxing Day. You’re all invited.” Will makes it sound more like a command than an invite, although they do all seem keen, and I end up talking about my art more than I ever have in years with anyone except Will.
An hour later, as everyone’s crawling to bed, we end up outside Mum’s study. For the first time in years her door’s open, and it’s strange, but in a good way.
Her door was never closed when she was here.
Hand in hand, we go in the room, and I trail my fingers over the back of my favorite chair. It was made to be used, not hidden away like a piece in a museum.
Moving on doesn’t mean forgetting the past. I squeeze his fingers.
“I’m going to ask Dad if I can take this chair with me.”
He doesn’t answer, just holds me close, and I rest my head on his shoulder. I’m glad you met him, Mum.
“You okay?” he says softly.
“Yeah.” I raise my head and lose myself in his beautiful brown eyes. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
“Not recently.” His grin does the most wonderful things to the pit of my stomach. “You should work on that.”
I laugh, and it’s strange. I haven’t laughed in this room for years. But it feels so right. I always used to be so happy in here.
The one line from The Princess Bride that neither of us has ever quoted to the other floats through my mind. There’ll never be a more perfect moment.
“As you wish.” I love you.
“That’s more like it.”
“It’s a good job you’re cute.” I lead him from the room. “No one else could say that to me and walk away without a limp.”
He pulls me around and cradles my face in his hands. How did I get so lucky? “No one else ever will say that to you, Mac. Because no one could ever love you as much as I do.”
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Acknowledgments
A big thank you to my most fabulous editor, Candy Havens! I’ve grown so much as a writer under your guidance, and I can never thank you enough. Here’s hoping one day we meet up at a conference so I can give you a hug IRL!
For my brilliant CPs, Sara Hantz and Amanda Ashby, two of the best friends a girl could ever have. What would I do without your wine and pineapple jokes?
And, as always, mega thanks to my husband Mark. You’re a legend and my rock. Love you.
About the Author
Christina Phillips is an ex-pat Brit who now lives in sunny Western Australia with her high school sweetheart and their family. She enjoys writing paranormal, historical, and contemporary romance where the stories sizzle and the heroine brings her hero to his knees. Christina is addicted to good coffee, expensive chocolate, and bad boy heroes. She is also owned by three gorgeous cats who are convinced the universe revolves around their needs. They are not wrong.
If you would like to know when her next book is available, sign up for her new release mailing list at her website—http://christinaphillips.com
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