“What do you mean forget about it?” Evan snatches the beer from my hand.
My shoulders stiffen. He’d better be real careful how he comes at me next.
“We had a deal,” he snaps.
“No, you have a vendetta, and I want no part of it anymore. I’m the one who got fired, not you. Which means I get the final say about this. And I’m calling it off.”
He shakes his head incredulously. “I knew it. She got to you, didn’t she? Fucking clone got you wrapped around her prissy little finger.”
“Enough.” I smack my hand down on the table, rattling our drinks. “That goes for all of you,” I tell the girls. “She’s off-limits. As far as you’re all concerned, she’s not to be messed with.”
“When did this happen?” Steph looks at me in confusion. I don’t blame her. Until this second, I’ve kept everyone out of the loop.
“This is why we can’t have nice things,” Alana says.
“I’m serious. Look, I like Mac.” I let out a breath. “Didn’t expect to, but here we are. I’m into her.”
Across the booth, Heidi’s lips twist into a scowl. “Men,” she mutters under her breath.
I ignore the jab. “I don’t know where this is going with us, but I expect you all to be nice to her. Forget we ever hatched this stupid plot. It’s not happening anymore. No more rude comments,” I say to my brother. To the girls, “And no scheming behind her back. For better or worse, you assholes are my family. I’m asking you to do this for me.”
In the silence that follows, each of them gives a curt nod.
Then Evan storms off, because of course he does. Steph shrugs as she goes to check on her tables. Heidi and Alana just stare at me like I’m the biggest dumbass they’ve ever met. It’s not the enthusiastic confirmation I want, but it’s honestly better than I hoped for. Still, I’m under no illusions that this’ll be painless for any of us.
Heidi shoves a hand through her short hair and continues to eye me. In her expression, I see a flicker of anger. A hint of pity. And a gleam of something else. Something vindictive, alarming.
“No one breathes a word of this to Mac,” I warn Heidi. “Ever.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
MACKENZIE
I spend the next week dodging Preston with such skill it’s a shame avoidance isn’t an Olympic sport. If it were, Bonnie would also make a worthy competitor. She covers for me at our dorm one night, answering the door topless to scare him off. For whatever lewdness Pres gets up to in his free time, he remains terrified of public embarrassment. So when Bonnie starts shouting at the top of her lungs, and our hallway neighbors poke their heads out their doors to see what all the commotion is about, Preston is quick to retreat.
Ignoring his texts and phone calls is easy. Hiding from him on campus has been trickier. I’ve taken to ducking out the back entrance of every class a few minutes early or several minutes late to make sure he isn’t waiting for me. Getting classmates I’ve befriended to text me a heads-up when he’s spotted nearby. It’s a lot of effort, but a hell of a lot less messy than getting cornered.
Seems like everything in my life has been reduced to the act of sneaking around. Avoiding Pres. Going behind my parents’ backs to work on the hotel. Slipping around town to meet up with Cooper. I can’t risk anyone on campus recognizing him and ratting me out to Preston, and I think Cooper’s hiding me from Evan, so our rendezvous have become increasingly creative.
And while we still haven’t had The Talk about our dating situation, we can’t keep our hands off each other. I’m addicted. Utterly addicted to him. Bonnie calls me dick crazed. I’d argue with her if she hadn’t been right about absolutely everything since the moment we met.
On Saturday night, I meet Cooper at one of our usual spots down the beach from his house. This end of the Bay was the hardest hit from the last couple hurricanes and has been pretty much abandoned for years. It’s nothing but empty houses and decaying water-front restaurants. An old fishing pier broken and mostly overtaken by the ocean. We let Daisy off her leash to run around a bit, and she wastes no time terrorizing the tiny sand crabs and chasing birds.
After stopping to sit on a piece of driftwood, Cooper pulls me to straddle his lap, facing him. Both hands cradle my ass as I scratch my fingertips lightly up and down the back of his neck, in the way I know gets him a little hard.
“You keep doing that,” he warns, “I’m gonna bang you right here in front of the seagulls.”