Page 64 of Mace
He leans back in his chair, draping his elbow over the back of the one next to him. It makes my heart stutter.How does he make that look so good?“Do you want to work the stage? Take your clothes off for strangers?”
No. It’s the last thing I want to do, but paying Bernie what I owe him is no longer my main objective—protecting Ivy is. If I’m going to get my sister away from Link, I need money so we can start over somewhere else. Toby won’t like being pulled out of school and moved away from his friends, but I’m really not seeing any choice. Link has proven he is going to do anything to keep me out of their relationship, and that terrifies me. I don’t know what he’s capable of, but I don’t need to. My imagination is running wild enough.
“I don’t think anyone chooses to take their clothes off for money, Mace.”
“I can’t let you on stage, Maylie.”
“Okay.” Disappointment floods me, and not because I want to do it but because it was my way out. Although trying to convince Ivy to come with me might result in me having to kidnap her.
Maybe I can get a job during the daytime before my shift starts at Temptation. It won’t leave much time to be around for Toby, but at least I can save enough to start over somewhere else.
Suddenly, I really want to be done with breakfast and this conversation. I already feel like a failure without my shortcomings staring me in the face.
I stand, pinning that smile that is becoming automatic on my face. “Thank you for breakfast, but I need to get back. I need to grab some milk on the way before Toby dies of hunger.”
Mace rises with me, and I can tell he’s not happy. Neither am I. It was nice to pretend for even just a short moment that my life was normal and not spiralling out of control, but this isn’t reality. And denial will not fix anything.
“Maylie, wait,” he says as I turn and rush out of the bistro.
I don’t. I can’t let him see me like this because I’m pretty sure I’m about to have an emotional breakdown. I have spent so much time being strong, and now, everything is falling apart, including me. I’ve never felt as helpless and as alone as I do right now.
Ducking my head, I rush out into the street, the cooler air hitting my face as I pull my jacket around my body. I move surprisingly fast, wanting desperately to escape everything.
The weight of my responsibilities, the uselessness I feel about my sister’s situation, and the fear it might put my brother in danger, all presses down on my shoulders heavily.
What was I thinking bringing Mace into any of this?
He doesn’t need my baggage. He already has his own trauma to deal with. I hate that loathing and worthlessness spread over me. This isn’t me. I’m not the depressed, sadgirl. I’m Maylie, the baker of brownies with a quick smile and joke.
No, that’s who I want everyone to think I am.
The truth is, that version of me is as fake as the wig I pull onto my head every time I step behind the bar.
I barely make it around the corner of the street before a hand grips my arm and I’m spun around to face him. I try to free myself, but Mace’s fingers are iron bands around me.
“I don’t care what the fuck happens between us, you don’t run from me,” he growls.
“I can’t do this. You shouldn’t want to do this either. Getting involved with me is a bad idea, Mace. I have the ability to find problems wherever I go. You deserve better. Hell, I deserve better, but I’m fucking cursed. If you have any sense, you’ll run far and fast.”
The emotions on his face are hard to read, but his hand cups the back of my neck in a move similar to what Steve does to Bella. My heart had fluttered every time he did it, but Mace’s big palm wrapped around my nape has my pulse jack-knifing against my ribs. “I’m not going fuckin’ anywhere.”
Before I can say a word, his head descends, and he presses his mouth to mine.
Mace is kissing me.
Mace. Is. Kissing.Me.
My heart leaps in my chest, pounding a frantic beat as his mouth claims mine. I have dreamt often of how my first kiss would be, and it was nothing like this. This is so much better than I could have ever thought about in my wildest of imaginings.
His big hand cups around the back of my neck, holding me in place so he can deepen our kiss, and when his tongue slides along the seam of my mouth, I part my lips to let him in.
I’ve seen plenty of kissing on TV and in movies, so I know enough to have a vague idea of what I need to do, but nothing could have prepared me for the way my body tingles and heat pools in my belly. I have never felt as alive as I do in this moment, and all I want to do is keep kissing him.
Heat spreads along my skin everywhere he’s touching me, and my body craves something from him I don’t understand. I need him to keep kissing me, to keep wanting me, even if it is only for this brief moment.
My world narrows to him, everything around us fading to blackness as his tongue caresses mine. The warmth spreading through my body is addictive, and I crave more of it, even as I know I shouldn’t allow myself to get in too deep. This can’t last. We can never be more than this kiss, than this moment, but I take it for what it is, and I allow myself to sink into the deliciousness of every touch of his mouth to mine.
When we break apart, his eyes are molten and I’m breathless.