Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

WOOD

I always thought the saying "stabbed in the heart" was metaphorical. But there's nothing metaphorical about the sharp pain in my chest.

Watching her walk out of my apartment shreds my insides into jagged pieces. Ripping me apart in a way that feels like I'll never be whole again.

It took everything in me to choke out the few words I said to her without breaking down, dropping to my knees, and begging her to stay.

She doesn't deserve that. I was in a beautiful, delusional bubble all week thinking that we could start something real. But she just got out of a long relationship. She needs time. And space.

I don't want her to think of me as just a rebound.

So, I let her go.

I shut the door and when I turn around, Noah is standing in the living room, arms crossed. "What the fuck are you doing? You need to go after her."

I slump down on the couch and hold my head in my hands. "Nah, man. It's not like that."

"I know exactly what it's like. I also know the way she looked at you the last few days. It was a way she'd never looked at you before. She never even looked at Spencer like that. You can't fake that."

"Turns out, you can."

"Bullshit. Were you two fucking?"

I nod.

"Was it good?"

"It was the best I've ever experienced in my life."

Noah widens his stance. "Maybe it started out fake, but it sounds pretty real to me."

"Even if she did like me like that, I'm not the guy she spends the rest of her life with. I'm not the guy she takes home to her mom. Or the one she marries. I'm the fling. I'm the rebound. The good time, but also, the short time."

Noah snorts. "No, I'm the one she doesn't take home to mom. Livvy's mom thinks I'm the anti-Christ. You are exactly that guy. How can you not see that?"

I chew the inside of my cheek as I chew his words over.

"Did you tell her how you feel about her?" he asks.

"No."

His biceps flex across his chest. He gives me a stern look and waits.

Fuck! "I've got to go talk to her."

Noah throws up his arms. "Fucking finally."

I shoot up and run out the door, blood coursing through my veins like a freight train. Heart thudding against my chest. Palms sweaty.

I hit the down elevator button.

My hand is shaking.

I wait for it to come, watching the light flash as I hop back and forth between my feet. Up and up. Slowly. Closer and closer.

What am I going to say to her? I have no idea. But I just need to get to her.

Finally, the elevator reaches the top floor and chimes as it stops.

The doors slide open with a whoosh and I'm about to leap inside when, standing there, in the middle of the elevator, is Macy. Bags in both hands, eyes welled up with tears.

She sort of shakes her head and shrugs, like she doesn't know why she's here, either.

My chest inflates like I can finally breathe again.

Heart still racing, I rush into the elevator, hands on both sides of her face, and kiss her hard on the mouth.

She kisses me back as we both stumble out of the elevator and into the hall, her bags thudding to the floor.

Heaven. Heaven is touching her and kissing her and having her here in my arms.

I kiss her lips and her nose and her cheeks and her lips again.

"What are we doing?" she asks between kisses, a tear falling to each cheek.

"I don't know." But I know I don't want to stop kissing her.

She goes up to her tiptoes and wraps her arms around my neck. "I don't want to leave."

"Stay," I say, peppering her with kisses. "With me."

"Yes," she breathes, just before I cover her mouth with mine again.

She breaks the kiss. We're both breathing heavily. I wipe her cheeks with my thumbs as she looks up at me. "Tell me it was real."

"It's real," I whisper.

"Are you sure? You and me." She shakes her head. "It doesn't make sense."

"What do you mean?" I tense up, prepared for her to explain that I'm not right for her. Not smart enough. Not serious enough. Not good enough.

"I mean, look at you. You're gorgeous. Outgoing. Everyone wants to either be you or be with you. And then there's me. I'm quiet. I'm plain. New restaurants stress me out. I carry needles with me everywhere and need to be within a few minutes of a bathroom pretty much all the time. How long will it be until you realize you can do better?"

"I—" There's too much to process. I'm not sure where to even start. "Better? Than you? Are you kidding? There is no one better than you. You are amazing. Brilliant. Kind. And you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met. When you're in the room, I don't even see anyone else. Mace, you are everything."

"I am?"

"Yes. Oh my god." I rake my fingers through my hair. "I've been afraid to tell you, but I've been frustratingly, desperately, debilitatingly in love with you since the moment we met."

She hiccups. "You have?"

"Yes."

Her eyes dart between mine, a little crease between her brows. "You think I'm beautiful? Why didn't you tell me you had feelings for me?"

"What good would it have done? You were with Spencer. And I hated it. But I wasn't going to say anything if that's what you wanted. If that's what made you happy."

She's shaking her head like she's not processing my words. Or that she doesn't believe me.

Fuck. "What can I do to convince you how I feel? I'll do anything."

"I don't?—"

"Here." I take my phone out of my pocket and frantically scroll to my notes app and open it. I hand it to her. "Take it. Look."