Undercover Bromance

by Lyssa Kay Adams

  Gavin cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  “That is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard. Liv is the easiest person to love I’ve ever known. She’s funny and smart and kind and brave, and if you spent any time actually getting to know her, you’d see that her sarcasm is just a way to push people away before she gets hurt. It’s all a front for a mushy heart that’s afraid of being broken. If you can’t see that, you don’t deserve to have her in your life.”

  The guys all exchanged another one of those annoying all-knowing looks. Gavin sat back in his chair and tilted his head. “So why exactly aren’t you fighting for her, then?”

  And that’s when Mack realized he’d been played. Sonuvabitch. “You didn’t actually mean any of what you just said, did you?”

  Gavin grinned. “Not a word.”

  A blood vessel seemed to burst in Mack’s temple. “Get out of my house. All of you.”

  He spun and stomped to the opposite counter where his phone was still dead and black. Mack planted his hands on the edge of the granite and squeezed until his knuckles turned white, until the flesh of his palms stung.

  “Dude, for someone who has spent years lecturing us on how to adapt the manuals to our own lives and relationships, you sure suck at taking your own advice,” Malcolm said behind him.

  Mack flipped off the room over his shoulder.

  There was a scrape of wood against the kitchen tile followed by Gavin’s voice. “What did you tell me when I said I couldn’t understand Chase’s actions in The Protector?”

  Mack squeezed the counter tighter. “I don’t want to talk about the goddamned book.”

  “You said I was missing the subtext.”

  “It’s a fucking book!”

  A fist lightly bounced on his shoulder. “You’re missing the subtext of your own actions, Mack,” Gavin said.

  Mack shrugged him off. “She ended it, Gavin. Not me.”

  “Did she, though?” Malcolm asked, his feet scuffing across the floor as he, too, approached. “Or did you just walk away without a fight?”

  Mack stiffened, his chest tight from a sudden sense of being caged in—not from his friends but from a truth he didn’t want to face. “She told me it was over.”

  “You said yourself that Liv pushes people away to protect herself,” Gavin said quietly.

  “You knew she would react defensively,” said Del, who now joined their small huddle. “That she would put her walls back up.”

  “You knew that, and yet you did exactly what she expected of you,” Malcolm said.

  Mack stared at his phone and willed it back to life, but the screen remained dark. Maybe that was for the best, because what if it powered up and he saw zero messages from Liv? Ignorance really was bliss. In so many ways. What he wouldn’t give to be ignorant of this feeling, this agonizing pain, this soul-sucking fear that the guys were right.

  The vise around his chest tightened again.

  “You let Liv push you away instead of staying and fighting for her,” Gavin said. “Why?”

  Mack closed his eyes. Fear is a powerful motivator.

  “Come on, man,” Del said. “Talk to us.”

  He couldn’t. He couldn’t form the words.

  “Mack—”

  “Because she’s better off without me.” It came out quietly. Maybe because he was saying it more to himself than to them. Maybe because he simply needed to say it out loud. To acknowledge it. Own it. Live with it. Once and for all.

  “Shit,” Gavin breathed. “I guess we found the subtext.”

  “Why would you think that, Mack?” Del asked.

  Mack opened his eyes but saw nothing.

  “Look at us.” That was from Malcolm, quiet and commanding.

  Mack shook his head. He couldn’t face them right now. They’d take one look in his eyes and see right through him. The real him. See him for the fraud that he was. Nothing but a scared fourteen-year-old kid who hid in a closet while his father beat his mother. And then they would reject him too.

  “Why would Liv be better off without the man she loves?” Del asked.

  “Because she loved an illusion.” Shit. What was wrong with his voice? He could barely talk. “She loved a made-up man crafted from the pages of too many romance novels.”

  “No. You were more real with Liv than we’ve ever seen you be with a woman,” Del said. “She fell in love with the real you.”

  “Maybe that’s what really scares you,” Malcolm continued.

  “I—” His voice officially failed.

  “Mack,” Malcolm said softly, his fingers squeezing his shoulder with comforting certainty. “Tell us about your father.”

  Mack closed his eyes again and tried to swallow, but once again something hard had taken up residence in his throat. “I’m so afraid that part of him lives in me. I think that’s why I changed my name.”

  Jesus. The truth made him dizzy. He gripped the counter harder to stay upright. “I changed my name because I’m terrified that his blood runs through me. What if there’s a part of me somewhere that’s just like him?”

  “Mack,” Malcolm said. “You are not your father.”

  The arrow-sharp precision of Malcolm’s words pierced what little steel remained around his bruised, battered heart.

  “And you are not what your father did.”

  Something dripped from Mack’s chin. Ah, fuck. He was crying. Goddammit.

  “The fact that you started reading romance novels to learn how to be a better man than him shows that you already were a better man than he could ever dream of being.”

  Gavin came closer. “You’ve been living with some kind of undercover identity for so long that you’ve forgotten who you really are—a good, decent man.”

  “Fuck,” Mack growled. “Fuck!”

  Mack pounded his fist on the counter, but then Malcolm wrapped two giant arms around him from behind. And then Del hugged him, and then Gavin, and suddenly even the Russian was there, and it became a great big manly hug huddle with Mack in the middle.

  His friends held him up as all the shit he’d been bottling up since he was fourteen came flying out in a torrent of sobs that he couldn’t have stopped if he tried. And they let him cry, let him cling to them.

  Malcolm pressed his forehead to the back of Mack’s neck. “Let it go, man. Let it go. We got you as long as you need.”

  He did need them. So much. Because his knees shook, and his legs barely functioned. Mack lost sense of time as his chest released all the built-up pressure of a lifetime of secrets and remorse, pain and regret.

  Until the pleasant ding-dong of his doorbell interrupted, followed immediately by an impatient knock.

  Great. Who the fuck . . . Wait. Maybe it was Liv. Mack untangled himself from his friends.

  “I will get it,” the Russian said before Mack could stop him.

  He raced back thirty seconds later, eyes bulging with panic. “Code red. Code red.”

  Code red? What the fuck did that mean?

  A diminutive, pissed-off woman appeared in the kitchen.

  Oh, fuck. Code-fucking-red.

  A collective gulp filled the tense silence as Thea Scott crossed her arms and glared.

  “Um, hi, honey,” Gavin said. “What are you—”

  “Don’t honey me,” Thea snapped.

  Gavin shut up.

  Thea fired her missile-like stare squarely at Mack. “Now, see, this really pisses me off. I come over here all riled up, ready to call you some really creative names for breaking my sister’s heart, maybe even kick you in the balls, and instead you have the audacity to stand there looking like that.” She waved her hands at his general state of pathetic loserdom. “How am I supposed to make you feel like shit when you’re already there?”

  Mack gripped the back of his neck. “The
a—”

  “Stop talking.”

  He snapped his mouth shut.

  She slammed her hands on her hips. “I swear to God, you and Liv are going to be the death of me!”

  Mack’s heart sputtered. “What-what’s wrong with Liv? Is she okay?”

  “I told you to shut up.”

  His friends’ loyalty had found its limits. They all headed toward the back door, except for Gavin, who hovered like he wasn’t sure which would get him in more trouble—staying or going.

  Thea threw her arms out to block them from leaving. “No one’s going anywhere. You’re all to blame for this.”

  Gavin inched forward cautiously, taking one for the team. “To blame for what?”

  Thea pursed her lips. “My sister is about to go after Royce.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Mack heard a buzzing sound in his ears. “I—what did you say?”

  Thea made another frustrated noise. “Hello? The cookbook release? She’s going after him.”

  Today was the day of the cookbook release. Holy shit. He’d been drunk and depressed for so long that he hadn’t even added up the days. His mouth went dry. “She’s going after him alone?”

  “No. Jessica and Alexis are helping. And Hop and that weird Geoff guy.”

  “What the hell is their plan?” Mack couldn’t help the tone of his voice. He was worried and feeling super protective about the woman he loved. So sue him.

  “Same plan as before, I guess. Except instead of leaking the audio tape, she and Alexis managed to get seven women from the list to agree to come forward. Each woman wrote an essay or something about what happened to them, and Liv had this crazy idea about getting Riya and Geoff to switch out the press kits for all the reporters at the last minute to include those essays.” Thea threw her hands in the air again. “I don’t know all the details! I just know it’s nuts, and I blame you guys!”

  Warring emotions made his hands shake. Pride, because holy shit, she’d done it. She’d gotten women to come forward. But panic, because holy shit, she couldn’t go in there without him. Without the backup of the guys and, fuck, Noah.

  Noah. Mack spun around and grabbed his phone, willing it to life. Noah answered on the second ring. “Wow. You’re alive.”

  “Where’s the audio? Is it in any shape or form to be leaked?”

  Noah paused. “The audio of Royce? Why? What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking we need to get our asses over there and do what we said we were going to do.”

  Mack heard a rustling noise, as if Noah were standing and searching for something. “How much time do we have?” Noah asked.

  Mack put Noah on speakerphone and looked at Thea. “How much time do we have?”

  She shook her head. “Not much. The event starts in an hour. I couldn’t get away until now.”

  “I can do it,” Noah said. “I can get it ready in the van, but we need to move now if we’re going to do this.”

  One by one, the guys shared a look, a smile, and then a nod.

  Del walked over and clapped Mack on the back. “Is it grand gesture time?”

  His heart pounded with hope and fear. “It’s grand gesture time.”

  It was time to get back the woman he loved.

  * * *

  * * *

  Liv wasn’t going to have any fingernails left after today. The plan was simple, but the risks were high. By the end of the day, either Royce Preston would have been exposed for the predator he was, or . . .

  Or all the women who’d agreed to come forward were going to face his wrath all over again, and Riya would be out of a job, and—

  Liv stopped pacing in the driveway outside the garage and dragged her hands down her face.

  “Stop worrying,” Alexis said, jogging down the stairs from Liv’s apartment.

  “So much could go wrong.”

  “And so much could go right.”

  “What if Riya can’t get us in? What if Geoff can’t make the switch? What if—”

  Alexis palmed Liv’s cheeks. “What if two hours from now the entire world knows what Royce did to us? Think about that and only that. I know I am.”

  Jessica came down the stairs next, her arms heavy with the folders that would be handed out to reporters. Riya had managed to steal one for them so they could match it exactly. Just before the doors opened, Geoff would make the switch.

  That was the plan, at least.

  Liv grabbed half of the folders, and they carried the load to Hop’s car. He was driving, but he’d yet to appear from the house. Every second that ticked by sent her anxiety into another level of hell.

  Liv bit another nail. “What is taking him so long?”

  “That,” Jessica said, pointing.

  Liv turned around. There, standing just outside the back door, Hop and Rosie were wrapped in a passionate embrace and a swoony kiss for the ages. Joy for them managed to push through her sorrow over Mack just enough for Liv to smile and enjoy the sight. At least someone got their happy ever after.

  “Wow,” Jessica sighed. “It’s cool that even old people fall in love.”

  Liv must have made a face that revealed the direction of her thoughts because Alexis once again came to her side. “Are you sure you don’t want to call Mack?”

  Liv squeezed her eyes shut. Mack. She couldn’t think about him right now. She needed to stay focused. “I’m sure.”

  “It’s not too late.”

  Alexis’s words could have had two meanings—that it wasn’t too late for Mack to help today or it wasn’t too late for them. But Liv didn’t ask which one she meant before sliding into the front seat. She had to do this first. And then she would go to him and tell him what a fool she’d been. To tell him she was sorry—so damn sorry—for not being brave enough to hear his side of the story, to accept it, to trust him.

  To tell him she loved him.

  Him.

  Braden Mack or Braden McRae. Whatever his name was, she loved him. She didn’t know how it was possible, but it had happened, and she wouldn’t survive if she’d destroyed it with her stupid insecurities.

  Hop climbed into the driver’s seat. “Last chance to back out,” he said brusquely.

  Alexis and Jessica slid into the back seat and buckled their seatbelts. “Let’s do it,” Alexis said.

  “I’m ready,” Jessica added. “He can’t get away with this anymore.”

  Liv reached into the back seat. Alexis and Jessica placed their hands on top of hers.

  “I love you two,” she said, her voice heavy with an emotion she hadn’t expected. “I’m sorry I made such a mess of things at first—”

  “Stop apologizing,” Alexis said.

  “I know I pushed too hard.”

  Jessica shook her head. “None of this would be happening without you.”

  Liv felt their support and forgiveness all the way to the tender parts of her soul. She laughed through a sheen of tears.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  * * *

  “Okay,” Mack said, snapping his seatbelt. “Let’s go.”

  Mack drove the van with Malcolm in the front seat. The Russian was crammed into the back next to Noah, who worked feverishly to get the tape of Royce ready. Thea, Gavin, and Del followed in Thea’s car because they actually had a stupid game tonight after this. Mack would’ve laughed about it if his heart weren’t lodged in his throat.

  Mack’s phone buzzed just as the small caravan pulled onto the freeway. His heart sputtered with hope that it would be Liv, but it was Gavin. “What?” he barked.

  “She just texted Thea. They’re almost there. We need to go fast.”

  Mack hit the accelerator, but the fucking van was a million years old and barely broke sixty-five.

  Mack pulled the p
hone away and relayed the message to Noah. Then he returned to the call. “Thea is sure we shouldn’t tell her we’re coming?”

  “She’s sure. Liv needs to—”

  “Do it her way,” Mack finished. “I know.”

  He ended the call and tried again to nudge the van up to something close to the speed limit. Cars passed on the left and right. When this was over, he was buying Noah a new fucking van.

  Actually, there were a lot of things he was going to do when this was over, and almost all of them involved doing whatever it took to get Liv back.

  The skyline appeared after several tense moments.

  “Mack, we got a problem,” Noah said from the back just as he took the exit.

  Not the words Mack wanted to hear. “What kind of problem?”

  “I can’t edit it down.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The part about you. I can’t cut it out in time. If we hack into their audio, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to turn it off before—”

  Mack squeezed the steering wheel.

  Before all of Nashville’s elite learned the truth about him.

  What would that feel like? To be free of the shame? To wake up every morning without the crushing weight of his past? What would life be like if he could finally free himself of the suffocating illusion that was Braden-Fucking-Mack?

  Here was his chance.

  And he was taking it. “I don’t care.”

  “You’re sure?” Malcolm asked quietly.

  “I’m sure,” he said, certainty adding an edge to his voice. “I’m done being undercover in my own fucking life.”

  He just prayed he wasn’t too late.

  * * *

  * * *

  They were going to be late.

  An entire block around Savoy was blocked off for the event, because of course it was. If Royce had to shut down the whole city to bask in his undeserved glory, he’d do it. Traffic slowed to a stop three blocks from the parking garage where they planned to meet Geoff. Hop let out a string of curse words that made Jessica’s mouth drop open; apparently she didn’t know that even old people could swear too.