“I’m not like that.”
But he doesn’t look me in the eye.
I bark out a harsh laugh. “That’s why you weren’t at all disturbed by Seb’s actions, right, Preston? Because you’re exactly like him. And you know what’s funny? I’m not even mad. I should be,” I tell him, because there’s plenty of anger from all the ways he’s disrespected me tonight. “I should be pissed. But I realized tonight that I don’t care anymore.”
“You can’t break up with me,” he says sternly, as if he’s telling me I can’t have candy because it’ll rot my teeth.
“I am. I did.”
“Forget whatever it is you think I’ve done. That’s just extracurricular bullshit—”
There’s that word again.
“It has nothing to do with our relationship. I love you, Mackenzie. And you love me too.”
For years, I’ve confused what we had for love. I do love Preston. Or at least I did, at some point. It started that way. I’m sure of it. But we were never in love. I mistook boredom for comfort and comfort for romance. Because I didn’t know what true passion was. I didn’t know what I was missing, how it’s supposed to feel when you can’t contain yourself, when desire for another person consumes you so completely, when your appreciation and affection for them is total and unconditional.
“Stop it, Mackenzie.” Oops. Now he’s pissed. I might be sent to my room with no dessert. “You’re throwing a temper tantrum and it isn’t cute. Come back inside. Apologize to your parents. We’ll forget this whole thing ever happened.”
“You don’t get it. I’ve made up my mind. I’m done.”
“No, you’re not.”
I didn’t want to resort to the nuclear option, but he’s given me no choice. “There’s someone else.”
“What the fuck? Who?” he snaps, anger reddening his face.
My cab pulls up to the curb. Thank God.
“You don’t get to know,” I say coolly. “And now I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.”
For the first time tonight, he listens.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
MACKENZIE
Fifteen minutes later, I’m standing at Cooper’s front door. I think I knew when I left the dinner table where I was going to end up. I knew—when I walked away from Cooper yesterday, when I spent hours spinning his words over in my head, remembering our hungry kisses—that if I found my way back here again, it would be with a purpose.
When he opens the door, I almost lose my nerve. He’s wearing a T-shirt and ripped jeans. Hair damp as if he just showered. His looks, his body, his tattoos are pure temptation. I hate that he doesn’t have to do anything, say anything, to get me all sideways and messed up. It isn’t fair.
“Hey.” I swallow against the sudden onset of dry mouth.
He stares me down hard without a word. I expected anger. Maybe to be chased off with a warning not to show my face in these parts again.
This is worse.
“Look, I came to apologize.”
“That right?” Cooper takes up the whole doorway, strong arms braced on either side.
“I was out of line,” I say remorsefully. “I never should have insinuated you have herpes. Perpetuating the stigma of STDs and slut-shaming is wrong, and I’m sorry.”
Though he tries his best to hide it, Cooper can’t entirely smother the smirk that pulls at the corner of his mouth. He drops his arms.
“Fine, come in.”
He leads me through the empty house to the lit back deck that looks out onto the bay. Neither of us is quite sure how to start, so we both lean against the railing, pretending to watch the waves through the darkness.
“I’ve never slapped anyone before,” I confess, because it’s my responsibility to break the ice, and for some reason this is harder than I expected.
“You’re pretty good at it,” he says dryly. “Fucking hurt.”
“If it makes you feel any better, my hand was still sore when I woke up today. You have a hard face.”
“It does make me feel better,” he says with a smile in his voice. “A little.”
“I am sorry. I way overreacted and totally lost it. I felt terrible about it. I still feel terrible.”
Cooper shrugs. “Don’t sweat it. I’ve had worse.”
Part of me wants him to lash out. Tell me I’m a brat and a spoiled bitch. But he’s so cool and calm. Unreadable, giving nothing away, which makes all of this nearly impossible. Because for everything I learn about Cooper, I don’t know him at all. Sometimes I think we have a connection, then I get to thinking about it until I convince myself I’ve concocted the entire thing in my head. As if every time we meet, I’m waking up from a dream and I don’t remember what’s real.