Chapter 16

16

Mack

Having the majority of our parties at Killer Brew really does make it feel like home. We've got the mezzanine above the bar, full drink service, with a towering Christmas tree standing in front of the mullioned windows.

I'm getting the warm fuzzies, which isn't just the alcohol talking.

But the alcohol is definitely talking.

I'm walking around, grin wide, feeling gooey and smiley and fuzzy—wait, I already said fuzzy. I throw back another swig of beer, loving the bubbly feel on my tongue.

Davey stuck close by earlier in the night, but he's chatting with Payne and Beau now, and I'm flitting from group to group, wishing I could sweep everyone up in a hug. I'm always happy, but tonight, that happy comes without a side of heartache, and I've gotta say, it's a nice change .

Having heart hurties is exhausting.

"Mack?"

I swing around and find Luke standing there. His cheeks and nose are flushed almost as red as his hair, so I assume he's only just arrived.

"Luke!" I throw my arms out and wrap him in a hug.

He laughs into my shoulder, hands resting on my back, and when I pull away, he's somehow even redder. "Ford and Orson said it would be okay to come."

"Yeah, of course. The more, the merrier! Get into the Christmas spirit." I almost knock into Keller—I definitely slosh the drinks he's carrying—as I scoop up a set of reindeer antlers. Then I turn back to Luke, step in close, and settle them on his head.

"Thanks." He touches the band gently. "Brayden didn't want to come tonight, so it's just me. Other than Orson and Ford, you're the only friend I have here. Any chance …"

"Yeah?"

"Well …" He gives a self-deprecating laugh. "Can you stick by me? For a bit while I meet people?"

"Of course. I'll introduce you around."

"Fuck, that'd be great. I've been here for most of this year and still haven't made a lot of friends. It's very different to back home, where I knew just about everyone."

"Why did you move here?"

Luke shrugs. "Job opportunity."

Something about that doesn't sound right. And normally I'm not the most switched-on bulb in the room, but I'm pretty fucking sure I'm reading this one right. "A job? What do you do?"

"Oh, uh …" He stuffs a hand in the pocket of his jacket and ru bs the back of his neck with the other. "I'm working as a tour guide. At Kill Pen."

"Oh, cool!"

He eyes me. "Really?"

"I bet it's the kind of job that's different every day. Is it spooky walking through all the cells, or have you gotten used to it by now?"

"I'm used to it." He studies me, smile pulling at his lips. "You're very animated tonight."

"Just a little tipsy."

His laugh is throaty. "I bet you don't get a chance to let your hair down much?"

"Nope! But it's fine. I love my kiddies and my husband, and work is great. Then I get tipsy when I can get tipsy."

Luke's giving me a strange look. "Husband?"

Shit. Did I say that out loud? "Ex! He's my ex. I said ex-husband."

"Of course you did." Luke's eyes flick to the other side of the room. "Well, don't look now, but I'm getting the feeling your ex doesn't like us talking."

"Really?" I swing around and find Davey in the same spot as before, hand wrapped around a glass, and glaring our way. As soon as our eyes meet, his dart away.

Luke pulls me back to face him. "I said don't look."

"But everyone knows when you say don't look, it obviously means you need to look."

"No, it literally means to not to ." We're both snickering now. "Come on, I need a beer to be social."

"That sounds unhealthy."

"About as unhealthy as still being in love with your ex?" He gives me a pointed look .

"No. The beer thing is actually unhealthy. Physically. Mine's all mental, and it's totally fine because I know there's nothing there, and I'll move on when I want to move on. Easy peasy."

"Really?" His expression makes it clear he doesn't believe me as he calls over Lisa and orders for us both. "So it's a me thing, then?"

"What?"

"Well, I'd convinced myself that you never got back to me about a second date because you were still in love with your ex, but if you're not and it's totally easy to move on, then it must be me."

My mouth drops. "Not you. Of course not. I like you. You're funny and kind and weren't put off by all the, y'know, swelling." I still can't believe that our first date sent me into anaphylaxis. "You're great!" I drag the word out to emphasize that he is, in fact, great. Then I play punch his shoulder.

Luke looks from his shoulder to my face like he's about to laugh. "Stop that."

"What?"

"Trying to, I don't know, boost me up or whatever. If you're not interested, it's okay. I think you're cute, and I wanted to see where things would go, but I'm not all heartbroken or anything."

A long rush of air leaves me. "Well, that's a relief."

"I take it dating isn't something you do a lot of?"

"It's not something I do any of. Davey's home for two weeks, gone for two weeks. When he's home, we spend a lot of time together as a family. When he's gone, it's just me and the kids."

"You don't have family who can babysit?"

"Sure. Davey's parents." I don't even begin to explain how awkward it was that one time I asked them to watch Kiera and Van so I could go out. Art had been determined to find me someone to sleep with—someone who wasn't their son—and my own pain was reflected in Mary's eyes. Handing off the kids was very much a silent conversation of "Oh, yes, here are the little ones. Please supervise while I get my dick sucked by someone who isn't your son," and then she'd silently said back, "We love you and want that for you but would much prefer it was our son doing the sucking," and I haven't been game enough to have that experience with them again.

Preferably ever.

"Are your parents not around?" he asks.

"They live in Boston, so we take the drive up there to see them, and they pop down from time to time, but for a sleepover? No go."

"I bet kids make everything so much harder."

"A lot." I palm my forehead, thinking of all the grays that have come through since that pair came into my life. "But also amazing too."

Luke turns this over for a moment. "I'm not sure I want kids."

"Any reason?"

"It's more a whole mesh of smaller reasons. And kids are something I don't think you should have unless you're one hundred percent decided on it."

"I agree." Davey and I had been on the same page every step of the way. The day we brought Kiera home, I don't think we took our eyes off her. She lived in our arms for the full two weeks that Davey was home, and then he left, and it was too hard for me to look after her and do everything else.

As bone-tired as I was, having her and Van is something I've never regretted, but it sure as fuck would be easy to.

"Your kids are super cute though," he says .

"Thanks. I know." They're adopted, but I like to take full credit for the cuteness that they are. "Let's say we dated." It's less of a segue and more of a steamroll. "You know the kids are a package deal, right? Like they won't be going anywhere."

His eyes crease at the corners as he takes another sip. "I'm not an idiot. And like I said, I'm not in love with you or have any grand expectations. All I wanted to know first is whether there could be anything there. If we'd worked out that it felt good between us, then we could have gotten into the deeper conversations. But let's say the guy I was into had kids, it's not a deal breaker. I'd adapt."

"Good to know."

Luke snickers a laugh into his drink. "Your ex really hates me, doesn't he?"

"What?" But before I can swing around this time, Luke grabs my arm and holds me steady.

"Do not look. Fuck me, Mack."

"Sorry."

"He's glaring though."

"How do you know? You didn't look."

"Just because I'm not as subtle as a bull doesn't mean I didn't look. I can see him in my periphery. He definitely wants to come over here and break things up."

"You think?"

"The jealousy is in neon."

I sigh, torn over whether that makes me happy or not. On the one hand, it shows he cares. I know he cares and loves me, but this is proof that he loves me loves me. On the other hand, I don't want him to feel jealous. It's a terrible, crummy emotion that I feel way too much of when it comes to him.

"Here's the thing: you're clearly still in love with him."

I don't answer, but it's not like I have to .

"It's okay. Well, from my side. From yours, it looks horrible, but I don't have to feel all that. The thing is, he sort of looks like he feels the same."

"I think he does."

"Then, sorry for being nosy, but why aren't you together?"

"His work." I down my beer, not liking that the fun, bubbly tipsiness has gone.

"That's right. He does something in PR?"

"Yep. He's always away, and it got too much for me, and he didn't want to choose us, so …" I trail off, remembering my conversation with Tonya about how drastically our lives would have changed if he made that choice. "It's not his fault. I don't think it's mine either. I think it's all a bit crap, and it wasn't supposed to work."

"Or …"

I cling to the word. "Yeah?"

"Well, as a guy, I know that if I lost someone and I still loved them, I'd be a bit of a territorial asshole. He didn't choose you, and even when you split, nothing really changed, right?"

"What's your point?"

"Change something, dammit!" Luke steps closer and drops his voice. "Go on a date with me."

"But—"

"At least that's what you'll tell him. We're friends, we can hang out—fuck knows I need some of those if I'm going to stick around here. I love Brayden, but it's getting like we're an old married couple."

"So … pretend to date, but not really?" I chew on that thought. "I don't like lying."

"Don't lie, then. Don't tell him we're dating. We'll hang out. Go to lunch, I'll pick you up for work on the days I start late, we'll catch up for breakfast or whatever. Then let Davey come to whatever conclusions he comes to."

As far as plans go, I hate it. But he's right that things need to change. I tried to romance him up, tried to make him fall back in love with the family life, and it hasn't worked. "Don't tell him we're dating, but let him think that we are?"

"Unless he asks you outright or whatever."

Not able to help it, I glance back over at where Davey is standing, and we catch eyes again. This time, he polishes off his drink and heads for the bathrooms behind the bar. I track every movement of his familiar gait, missing it more than ever.

"I want to actually go on a date," I say, feeling half-sick and half-relieved.

"You what now?"

"Like I said, you're a great guy. I'd be dumb to shut myself off to everything else on the slim hope that Davey will decide we're worth it. So let's try. Just the once. An actual date."

"An actual date."

"Will … will that be okay?"

Luke shrugs. "I know the deal, and you haven't lied to me about where your head is at, so let's go for it. If it doesn't work, we'll be back on my plan. Friends."

That bubbly, light, drunkish feeling creeps in again. I throw my arm around Luke's shoulders.

"Now that's out of the way, let's go make you some friends!"