Breathe Me In

  “I wish you could find someone.”

  “Oh, stop wishing that on me,” Macy laughed, striving for a light tone.

  “Hasn’t it been a while since you’ve even had a date?”

  “Hmm. I guess.”

  Candace huffed in frustration. “Do you just…not care to be with anyone?”

  Macy cut her a meaningful look. “Gee, I can’t wait to be in your shoes.”

  “All right, touché. Is that really why you don’t, though? You’re afraid of getting hurt? It sucks but how will you ever find the one if you don’t try?”

  Why the hell was she under the gun all of a sudden? “Because I haven’t found anyone who could even be a candidate to be the one. I’m not worried about it. I don’t mind being by myself right now. I like not having to answer to anyone else, or worry about someone else’s moods—don’t ever think there isn’t a male equivalent to PMS. I like eating what I want to eat when I want to eat it and going where I want to go when I want to go. When you’re in a relationship that isn’t always how it is. You have someone else’s wants, feelings, and even their schedule to consider.”

  “I know you want a family though. You’ve said it.”

  “I do, very much. Someday. Nothing wrong with enjoying my singlehood while I have it, is there?”

  “You know, I never worried much about finding someone either. I always had a crush on Brian, but even when I went to him to get my tattoo, I never once expected all this. It just happened.” She shook her head. “I miss him so much. We didn’t have enough time together.”

  Oh, God. It wasn’t like he’d died. “Well, you know…you imposed this separation on the two of you, not him. If it’s eating you up that bad, go back.” It wasn’t what she wanted to see happen, simply because avoiding more days like this in her best friend’s future was high on her list of priorities, but in the end Candace was going to do what she wanted anyway.

  “I think it’s inevitable. The thought of not being with him makes me literally sick to my stomach. I sure can’t imagine being with anyone else.”

  Macy nodded, lost in her own thoughts. Candace had said ‘it just happened.’ That’s how things usually went—that person you insisted you weren’t looking for and thought you didn’t need ambushed you and turned your world upside down. She damn sure hadn’t been looking for Ghost…who hadn’t repeated his invitation of a few days ago, she’d noticed. But he did still text her pretty often, so maybe she hadn’t put him off pursuing her completely.

  Pursuing her. It had been a long time since she hadn’t been the pursuer. Since Jared, really. He’d been pretty relentless. But after that catastrophe, she’d put up walls, and very few men had been brave enough to try to scale them. She could shut them down with a single look. She’d perfected that look.

  Not that she’d been celibate. She loved seeing something she wanted and going after it. As such, there had been a couple of forays into exclusivity that seemed promising at first but fizzled before the six-month mark. There had been a fling—hot and fleeting, the way she’d wanted it. But nothing that made her too eager to give the whole relationship thing another try.

  Then why in the hell was she so interested now?

  “Oh, God. There’s Jameson. He’s probably fuckin’ spying on me.”

  Candace’s words jerked Macy out of her reverie just as memories of Ghost’s smile began to creep in. She looked in the direction of Candace’s gaze…and froze. The black Navigator cruising by in the parking lot was the same one she remembered Jameson owning, and sure enough, as it passed them, the white Baylor University sticker across the back windshield identified it. Without a doubt, it was the same one Macy had seen drive by Dermamania the night she and Ghost hung out there. The night it had been vandalized.

  She had to tell Candace. She had to…but God, the last thing she wanted was to get caught up in all this. For one, she would have to explain what she was doing at Dermamania in the middle of the night. Candace would probably hate Macy for meeting Ghost behind her back when Macy had been telling her all along not to see Brian anymore. How could she defend herself? How could she even try?

  When the hell had this become such a freaking cluster?

  Maybe she could say nothing. Jameson was already the prime suspect…but there was nothing pinning him to the scene. Macy’s mother was best friends with Candace’s mother. How would it affect everyone’s relationships if Macy was the voice who brought shame to the entire Andrews family? How would it affect Candace to know she’d been keeping this from her? Even though they’d cleared the air a bit, it would probably take very little to set Candace off again.

  A hand waved in Macy’s face and she jolted out of her funk. “Huh?”

  “I said, are you all right? You’re pale. You could’ve seen a ghost.”

  She had. That was the damn problem.

  “I’m fine.” Jameson’s SUV crept on by and finally, mercifully disappeared from sight.

  “We can go home, if you want. I’ve done enough damage for today, I think.”

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  As they headed for Macy’s car, she tried to pretend everything was okay, but she couldn’t. Everything crashed down on her as she slid into the driver’s seat, and she had to sit and catch her breath while Candace got in on the passenger side. “Hey… Are you sure you’re all right?”

  Not now. She wasn’t ready to tell her right now. Soon. She would do it soon.

  Clearing her throat and releasing her iron grip on the steering wheel—which she hadn’t even noticed until she let go—she gave her friend a reassuring smile. “I’m fine.”

  “Hello?”

  Macy’s heart dropped for a moment when Ghost answered his phone. From the sleepy gruffness of his voice, it was obvious she’d woken him, though it was well after noon.

  “Oh— Hey. I’m sorry. Thought you’d be up by now.”

  She heard rustling on the other end of the line—as if he was turning over, or maybe throwing back the covers to get up. Macy cringed as her inquiring mind wanted to know if he slept naked. Of course, along with that speculation came a variety of possible images. “That’s okay,” he said. “I should be.”

  “Working late again?” The parlor had only recently reopened.

  “Yeah, but I usually stay up for a while after, too.”

  “I can let you go.”

  “Naw. I’m good. What’s up with you?”

  She chewed her bottom lip. What was she doing? They’d settled into a texting pattern, but neither had actually called the other. There almost seemed to be an unspoken competition between them…who would break down and call the other first.

  Obviously, she’d lost.

  She’d dialed him on impulse—part from boredom and part from wondering if he could give her some advice and part from simply wanting to hear his voice again. “I don’t know. I have a dilemma.”

  He chuckled. “Lay it on me.”

  “What would you do if there was something you needed to tell someone, but to do so could…really mess some things up for you? And possibly for a lot of other people who consider you their friend?”

  “Hmm. You’re throwing deep shit at me first thing in the…well, afternoon.”

  Macy laughed. “Yeah, I guess. Sorry.”

  “You sound down.”

  “I am, a little.”

  “So you call me.” She could practically hear him grinning, and it was impossible not to answer with one of her own.

  “Yeah, why is that?”

  “Why do you call me when you need cheering up? Because I’m fucking funny.”

  “There is that. But you’re not the one to go to when I have a moral dilemma, I see.”

  “You’re probably right about that. I don’t know, Macy. As far as your dilemma, I guess it would depend.”

  “On what?”

  “Who’s getting the shittier deal here?”

  It was all pretty much equally shitty. A bad deal any way you looked at it, and she
told him so.

  “Well,” he said, “without knowing the details, if someone’s being wronged in some way then you—or I imagine I would need to come clean about it.”

  He’d only affirmed what she already knew, of course. Jameson Andrews needed to pay for what he’d done. Bottom line. End of.

  “I’m being…a real coward,” she admitted, cramming a knuckle into one eye in frustration.

  For a beat, he didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” All at once, she straightened, infusing herself with the needed determination to do what had to be done. “I should let you get your day started.”

  “I don’t go to work until two. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. Or maybe tell me what’s going on.”

  He’d find out soon enough, once she “came clean.” And he’d hate her for holding out this long, too, wondering what the hell was wrong with her for not doing the right thing from the start. Or for not calling his attention to Jameson’s creeping the night he vandalized the parlor. The whole thing probably could have been prevented if she hadn’t been so stupid.

  Hell, sometimes she thought if she could lock herself in her apartment and not have to deal with anyone, ever, that would be just fine with her.

  But becoming a hermit wasn’t feasible, so she hung up with Ghost and decided to call Candace. Right then.

  Which was how she found herself at Dermamania later that afternoon, spilling her guts to Brian in his office while Candace visibly tried to hold it together in his presence. The longing coming off her best friend was practically palpable, and before long, Macy left the room to take a deep breath and to give them the privacy they so obviously needed.

  She’d done it. Candace wasn’t mad at her as far as she could tell. In hindsight, Macy realized how silly she’d been to be worried. Candace had forgiven her for far worse, and she’d shown little more than amusement over hearing about Macy and Ghost’s rendezvous. Brian was so happy to have proof of Jameson’s involvement that she doubted he harbored any ill feelings toward her, either.

  There was no doubt about it: the tough exterior Macy tried to show the world had cracked and unexpected emotion had swamped her during the entire exchange. Worry over her best friend, worry over doing the right thing, worry over this unwelcome yet undeniable desire for this guy who shouldn’t even be on her radar… It had all come to a head and she’d made a blubbering fool of herself. But it wouldn’t be the first time. Her mom would tell her it was good for her to get knocked down a few notches every now and then.

  As she entered the front area where the machines buzzed alongside happily obscene chatter, Ghost smirked at her. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved head or jaw in several days; the shadow of his hair lent a ruggedness to his appearance that kicked her pulse rate up.

  As far as she knew, he had no idea what was going on or what she was doing here. Except for the missing art and TVs, there was no indication Dermamania had ever been trashed. Those guys had really busted their asses to get it up and running again. Amazing.

  Since Ghost seemed fairly idle—with no client under his needle and surprisingly not an active participant in the ongoing banter—she ambled over to his station.

  It felt good to not be secretive. To not have that weight on her shoulders.

  “Hey, killjoy,” he greeted, hoisting himself up on the counter and resting his elbows on his knees.

  “Hey yourself,” she flirted shamelessly back. Maybe it was only Macy’s imagination, but conversations dropped all around them. The pink-and-blonde-haired girl—Starla?— in particular paused and stared with open interest.

  He’d called her “killjoy” again, but she hoped he was teasing. They’d had some laughs. She wasn’t that bad, was she? Wouldn’t her lighter mood show all over her face?

  If his expression was any reflection of hers, though, she must look happy as hell. His grin, as usual, was absolutely killer.

  “Long time no see,” he said.

  “I know. Sorry about that.”

  He gave a slight nod, his gaze steady upon her face. Right away, she knew he was thinking of their conversation earlier that day. “You okay?”

  “I’m great.” For the first time since I last saw you, she added silently. “You?”

  “Hanging in there.”

  She didn’t know much about his life beyond his being Brian’s friend, his job here and the sad story about his parents. By all appearances, he was a carefree guy. But no one was without cares. It occurred to her then that she wanted to know his. All of them. He’d listened to her yammer about her “dilemma.” Maybe she could return the favor.

  “So…” she began when it became apparent he was content to sit and grin at her. But she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “Are they working things out?” he asked, nodding toward the back.

  “Oh. I don’t know.”

  A dark eyebrow raised. “Then what are you guys doing here?”

  “She...um, I...” Macy cast a glance around. Oh, yeah. He was someone else she needed to come clean to, wasn’t he? He’d been affected as well. But she couldn’t, not here in front of everyone. “Can we talk about it later?”

  “Well sure. Are you finally asking me out?”

  “What?” she laughed.

  “Talking about it later implies I’m going to see you later.”

  “We could talk on the phone,” she pointed out.

  “I might not answer.”

  “You said you would.”

  “But I won’t if it means never seeing you.”

  Was he really saying this now? In front of all his friends? She heard a few chuckles from behind her. “You’re something, aren’t you?” she asked him.

  “Girl, you have no idea,” Starla muttered. Macy threw her a grin over her shoulder.

  “I haven’t figured out what yet,” Ghost said. “I don’t think anyone has. Makes you curious, doesn’t it?”

  “Say no!” Starla said. “For the love of all that’s holy, say no.”

  Candace and Brian took that moment to come in from the hallway, expressions bleak, tension between them that practically vibrated. Macy and Ghost shared a grim look and he gave her a slight nod. She was at her friend’s side and out the door with her in a second, all flirting forgotten.

  “Candace, what happened?” she asked as Candace threw open the door to her car and flung herself inside.

  Shit.

  Sighing, Macy got in and pulled Candace into her arms, letting her cry as long and hard as she needed. She didn’t ask any more questions, didn’t judge, didn’t dole out unwanted advice. Her sweet friend was beyond it all, anyway. Sometimes crying it out was the only thing you could do. Macy had been there.

  She swore she would never, ever let herself be there again.

  Chapter Five

  The text didn’t come until later that night as Macy was settling into bed.

  Feel like finishing our conversation?

  Glancing at her clock and frowning at the late hour—it was almost midnight—she tried to ignore the sudden throb of her pulse. Now? she replied.

  Ah, past your bedtime. Sorry.

  I was still awake.

  4get not every1 operates on my schedule

  She smiled into the darkness of her room, realizing she heard his deep voice saying the words as she read them. It made her toes curl. And she was dying to finish their earlier conversation, but the thought of her best friend at home no doubt sobbing into her pillow gave her pause. It’s okay, she tapped. But I really shouldn’t. I’m drained.

  Ur friend ok? he asked.

  No. Yours?

  No. Tho he looked like a man with a plan when he left today.

  Hmm. If Brian had a plan to fix this whole awful mess, more power to him. The way he’d looked at Candace today, as if she were the only precious thing in his universe...it had almost brought tears to Macy’s eyes. She didn’t think anyone had ever looked at her that way. It had cer
tainly done more to change Macy’s thinking about this whole situation than all of Candace’s crying and anger. She knew how emotional her friend could be. Now she’d seen the other side. Brian was in as much pain as Candace, if not more.

  She’d always tolerated Candace’s parents pretty well. After witnessing that devastation today, she’d decided they needed to be slapped. And so did Jameson—but thankfully Brian had taken care of that, and now that he had Macy’s information, he was about to hit him and the Andrews family where it really hurt. Their money, their pride, their status in the community.

  Macy kind of wished he could do it without dropping her name, but oh, well. She would expect the incredulous phone call from her mother any day now, since Sylvia Andrews was Jennifer Rodgers’s good friend. Though how her mother tolerated that woman, she had no idea.

  I wasn’t sure about Brian at first, she admitted to Ghost, but I’m starting to change my mind.

  He’s a good one. Don’t worry.

  After a moment of intense debate with herself, she tapped back, What about you? Are you a good one?

  He was a long time replying, and she wondered if she’d said something wrong...or if maybe he was just trying to formulate his reply. She was beginning to enjoy the idea that she’d flustered him when his message popped up.

  I can be good. Or I can be as bad as you want me to be.

  God, she bet he could. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly through her nostrils, realizing she’d been rubbing her thighs together to assuage the building ache between them.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted to fuck a guy this bad without going ahead and doing it.

  So do it, she told herself. Just freaking do it, and get it over with. Where was the harm? Candace herself had been pressuring her to find someone. Where are you? she texted.

  About to leave work.

  I can be there in twenty minutes.

  Then I’ll wait.

  Twenty minutes. She threw her covers off and her feet hit the floor. She needed this. She’d been thrust into the middle of a scandal, she’d been a terrible friend, and while she was glad she’d fessed up, the guilt still weighed on her. A wild romp with Ghost wouldn’t take that burden from her, but it would damn sure help her blow off steam. It was only sex, and she couldn’t have picked a better no-strings kinda guy. That was for sure.