The Day He Kissed Her (Bad Boys of Crystal Lake 3)

She’d spent the night tossing and turning and knowing that her world was about to change because she couldn’t go on like this. Not anymore. There were too many things left unsaid that needed to be spoken. The hourglass, it seemed, had run out of sand.

Gibson ran up onto the steps, the burly retriever yipping playfully at her feet, but she didn’t have the heart to play with him.

Jake and Raine had been by an hour earlier to check on her, and she’d asked them to leave the dog. She thought that she might take Gibson into the woods for a walk, to clear her head, but she had no energy.

She had nothing, and just this once, she thought that it would be nice to feel nothing.

Lily must have dozed off because when Gibson started barking, she jerked so badly her glass went flying and shattered at her feet. Gingerly, she got to her knees and picked up the broken pieces, placing them in a little pile beside her chair.

A noise made her freeze.

Mackenzie.

He stood at

the end of the driveway, still dressed in the clothes he’d worn the night before—the jeans dirty, the T-shirt splattered with blood. He’d pulled on a ball cap, and she couldn’t see his eyes, but she felt them.

He looked toward her for several long moments, and when he started toward the porch, her heart leaped into her chest. He crossed the lawn swiftly on his long legs until he stopped at the bottom of the steps, and he pushed the brim of his cap back.

Sweet Jesus, but his face looked rough. He had abrasions along his jaw and beneath his eye, and stitches above his brow. Such need filled her—the need to touch him, to breathe him in, and she bounded down the stairs, straight into his arms.

He held her for a long time, not saying anything, his arms wrapped around her as if she was his lifeline, and when he finally let her go, his fingers lingered along her mouth. His thumb grazed the tender skin near the one corner that had met his elbow the night before.

She wanted him to keep touching her even if it hurt, to keep their connection alive, but he moved away, and her heart turned all over again. God, she felt sick.

“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry, Lily.”

“Mackenzie, it was an accident,” she said softly. “Please don’t blame yourself.”

“An accident?” His voice was incredulous. “An accident is tossing colors in with whites when you’re doing laundry. An accident is forgetting to leave your parking brake on or forgetting to turn off the sprinkler system.” He clenched and unclenched his hands. “What happened last night wasn’t an accident. It was bound to happen sooner than later. It always does. I’m just so goddamn sorry…”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what to say. I lost it. I thought I could handle seeing him. I thought that I could keep my shit together, but when he called you a…”

Lily flinched and reached for him, but he moved farther away.

“When he called you a whore, I saw red.” Mac scrubbed at his face. “All I could think about was getting to him and shutting his rancid mouth the hell up. I didn’t think about anyone else. I didn’t think about you or Becca or Liam. I screwed up, like I always do.”

Something in his tone got to her, and the fear that had been building inside Lily for days erupted. He was already leaving her.

She blanked for a moment, saw nothing but his pain, heard nothing but his sorry, and felt nothing but the distance he was trying to put between them. She gave herself a mental shake and desperately tried for some kind of normal.

Conversation. Yes. Keep the conversation going.

“Is your father…”

“He’s out. He’s with my mom, and apparently they’re going to play house again.”

“Oh, Mackenzie. I don’t know what to say.”

He shoved his hands into his front pockets and hunched his shoulders. “There’s nothing to say. It is what it is. She’ll always choose him over us. God, to think there was a time I thought of trying to convince her to come live with me in New York, and now she doesn’t want to talk to me.”

He sighed. “Liam and Becca are at the cottage. They’re going to stay there until I can figure this out. I’ve already talked to the Bookers, and I think he’ll let us rent the place year-round since it’s winterized. It’s an alternative for Becca if she chooses to stay here.”

Hope flared and she took a step toward him. “So you’re staying in Crystal Lake?”

“What?” He shook his head vigorously. “Hell no. I’d end up killing Ben if I did. I’m heading back to New York City as soon as I get my sister settled. I just can’t…this place isn’t good for me. Not anymore.”

“Oh,” she whispered, trying to ease the pain inside her and afraid to ask the next question. “So, what are we going to do about us?”