Summer: Day 37

Kylar's POV:

Sometimes when you verbally admit something you realize what you initially felt wasn't necessarily true.

I thought I loved Mackenzie.

And I do, just not like how I thought I did.

I went one day knowing she would never love me, one day of her knowing I would 'forever' be in love with her, and one day of those three words escaping my tongue. I love you. The only difference is that I was okay with it; she was right, we were too similar to ever be anything.

This summer, I should've known she was sneaking around with Zachariah. I knew she never curled her hair, so the excuse, "it was the curling iron," was a total lie. And the lie, "I'm going to my mom's work," was complete bullcrap, especially considering she hated her mom's guts as I did my father's. But within the cycle of life; sometimes people change and grow apart. And while I hate to admit it, Mackenzie wasn't my person as much as I wanted her to be.

We were in a little bubble of childhood fantasies, but we're both growing up into young adults, and honestly, we're taking different pathways doing so. She's trying her best to be an independent, strong woman, and I'm still living under my mother's roof with no intention of leaving unless I have to. Not my fault I don't have a boyfriend who has the inheritance of a millionaire's company. My father doesn't fancy me so.

But all these things add up to one thing: fate. We can't always control the things that happen in life, but we can do things to get to our dreams and goals.

I think the one thing I've craved in life was the love and attention from someone, anyone really. And maybe that's why being with Britney helped me forget about my troubled feelings about Mack; because Britney made me feel things. Things I didn't recognize were genuine until I took a step back and missed her.

It was only twenty-four hours, but I missed her. Her voice, her laugh, her gorgeous smile, her dry humor, her lips, her hugs, her cuddles. I actually missed someone other than Mackenzie, but the feeling was completely foreign. I felt it in a whole other way. The feeling resulted in the pit of my heart where the vein meets the organ, constricted and powerful; I missed Britney from the bottom of my heart.

And I needed her. Wanted her in ways I didn't want anyone else.

This is how Zachariah must feel about Mackenzie.

Not being able to stand being around the person because they make you feel things so intense, but not being able to stay away from them because they're that addicting.

So that's why I stood outside Britney's house right now, debating whether to knock or not.

When my fingers finally press the doorbell, I let out a shaky breath full of optimism and hope. It's time to move on, it's time to give myself to somebody else.

The second the door opens is the second I finally realized why Britney came into the ice cream parlor at the beginning of the summer. It was to warn me, to give me a clue as to why I needed to move on. And Britney, she wasn't going to just be my distraction—she'd be the new chapter in the book I thought would only be Mackenzie's.

I could see myself falling for Britney. In fact, I wanted to fall for her; in love, not out.

"Kylar," she whispers, her mouth forming an 'O' shape. "What are you doing here?"

I go to open my mouth to say something, but it just hangs. "I don't know if you know just how beautiful you really are," I say, completely awestruck by the way her hair is tied up into a messy bun. "You're goddamn gorgeous, Brit."

"Kylar," she whispers again, her brown eyes filled with questions.

I take a step forward so we're closer together, close enough I grab her hands in mine. "I know I messed up and pretended to feel things when I knew I felt for Mack, but I realized whatever Mackenzie and I have is different than what you and I can have."

She shakes her head, looking down at our hands. "I don't know what you're saying."

"I'm saying that I want to fall in love with you, Britney. Be my girlfriend," I say, squeezing her small hands as she looks up into my eyes.

"But if you love Mack—"

"Mack and I aren't fit for each other, not like you and me." I caress her cheek and she nuzzles into my warmth a little more. "You make me feel things, Britney. You help me forget about life when I'm around you. When it's you and me, all I see is you and me."

She smiles, the kind that makes her nose crinkle. "I really like you, Ky."

"And I really like you," I whisper back. "And I think I realized that once Mackenzie was out of the picture. Her and I would never work and now I see that, but we can. We can work, Brit."

"So you told her?" Britney asks, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth.

I nod, frowning a bit. "Yeah."

"But she said no?"

"I should've known she would because she loves my brother," I say, wincing a little. I look at Britney, her features illuminated by the sunshine creeping to midday. "Honestly, I don't love her like that. I thought I did, thought she could, but I really don't. Mack has a certain place in my life, she always will. But Britney, I want you to have my heart."

"You want that?" Britney asks, vulnerable as ever with a shake to her voice.

"Things are different with you. I got to know you and want to continue getting to know you, I want us to grow together." My eyes search hers before I ask, "Do you want that?"

"I do," she says, a huge smile on her lips.

I lean down and kiss her forehead, saying, "Save those words for our future, Brit."

"Okay."

"Okay?" I whisper, lowering my head down to her level.

"Okay," she whispers back.

"Perhaps 'okay' will be our always?"

She giggles as she hooks her arms around my neck, pulling herself up to kiss me. Her lips are warm and soft on my own, and I immediately feel okay with myself, with life. I will fall in love with this girl in ways I've never fallen before, I just know it.

******

Mack's POV:

My hair's a mess, I'm still in Zachariah's hoodie, and my eyes are droopy from the lack of sleep and the amount of crying I've been doing the last couple of days.

I didn't wanna go to work today, especially since dealing with Deacon was the last thing I wanted to spend my energy on. But he had me scheduled and I could use getting out of the house, so I chose not to use one of my sick days and went to work anyways.

I go straight into the break room and clock myself in, putting my things in my locker. And oop there it is—the last thing or person I wanted to see. It was if he had a sixth sense for my arrival.

"Damn, what made you look like you got hit by a bus," he jests, raising an inquisitive and amused eyebrow.

I shut the locker and fail to stop myself from rolling my eyes. "I got hit by a train, thank you very much." Like don't point out my flaws. Trust me, I know enough about them already.

"Sheesh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." Deacon shakes his head at his own amusement, walking over to make an espresso drink of some sort.

"Nope," I mutter, sitting down at the bar table. "I just have this look every time I see you, no big deal. And don't take offense to it."

"Wow," he muses, looking over his shoulder with a galant and mischievous grin on his face. "Low blow there, Mackenzie. And no offense taken. I'm pretty use to our way of speaking to each other now, so I'll let it slide." As if I was dying for your approval.

I clench my jaw when he uses my full first name. "You're so infuriating, you know that? Just call me Mack, I don't like being called Mackenzie."

"And why would I do that?" he asks, finally pulling away to sit across from me. Not that I wanted him to.

"Because that's being a decent human being?" I return, crossing my arms.

Deacon takes a sip from his drink. "Good thing I find myself far from decent, unless we're talking about my bed game—now that's far from decent, that's one of my strong suits." He cocks his head to the side as if trying to read me.

Okay, I didn't need to know that.

Clearing my throat, I say, "I didn't ask—"

"I volunteered," he suggests, shrugging his shoulders. I watch as the coffee cup goes back to his mouth, his lips still curled into a smirk as he takes a sip of his drink. "How's your boyfriend doing?"

"He's um—" I inhale sharply, shutting my eyes. "He's fine. He's decent."

"You don't sound too positive about your response," Deacon mocks, leaning forward in his seat, intrigued. "So tell me, what's the truth?"

I shake my head, looking down at my hands as I slouch in my chair. "I don't think my love life is any of your business, Sir. Not that it concerns you, but Zach and I are working through some things right now." Only, we're actually far from working through them.

"Totally believable," he says with sarcasm laced in his voice. "I swear to fucking life in general if he's just messing around with you for his enjoyment, he's just one big ass bastard." Language for a boss much?

"And isn't that what you're doing?" I inquire, cocking my head to the side.

He nods. "To some degree, I suppose. Though I don't know if I'll ever actually get you, so it's no harm and no harsh feelings are involved. I'm simply putting my offer out there—which is still on the table, and if I miss as I shoot my shot then what gives, you know?"

"You have very twisted logic for someone who appears to have a high intellect," I observe, lifting my chin in confidence.

"Only some people can pull off that kinda look accordingly," he returns, sipping his drink again. Deacon smiles, his teeth still paper-white despite the amount of coffee he probably consumes. "I just so happened to be one of them."

"Well congratulations, that's definitely something to be proud of," I say sarcastically, getting up to put my barista apron on.

Deacon's gaze follows me, his gray eyes observing my every move. "So you said no to dinner, but how about a friendly coffee date after hours?"

Haha, friendly coffee date up my ass.

"Definitely not today," I reply, rolling my eyes at him again.

"So some other time then?" he suggests, standing up so his intimidating height towers over my petite figure. Suddenly, I feel tiny compared to him. "It's not much different than what we were just doing, but instead of picking fun at each other, we could actually try to get along for once."

"I don't think that's humanly possible."

"You don't know that until you try," he says, nodding. "Be a decent human for once, no?"

I take a deep breath, working my patience. "If I say yes to a fifteen-minute coffee hangout, will you quite bugging me?"

"Perhaps," he shrugs.

"Sounds appealing," I deadpan, crossing my arms as I look him in the eyes.

"Twenty," he says with compromise.

"That's pushing the limits," I say, shaking my head. "I can only put up with so much asshole in my life."

"You handle your douche of a boyfriend-ex-boyfriend pretty well," Deacon states, matching my phlegm.

I laugh, snorting a little. "Exactly, I can only deal with so much of that quality. Besides, Zachariah is nowhere near as infuriating nor as derogative as you."

Deacon chuckles, finally nodding his head as if pleased. "Understood, fifteen minutes it is. The next time I have you scheduled then, after hours?"

"Whatever," I sigh, not really giving a damn. "The sooner the better so you get off my ass about it."

"Eager much? And in order to get off your ass I'd first have to be on it," he explains, amusement swimming beneath his hollow, gray eyes. "So is that an invitation?"

"No, idiot," I say as I screw my face up at the thought. This man-child, child of a man.

Author's Note:

*rips hair out* SORRY for the short chapter again, I promise the next one will be a lot longer. Didn't really know what to write here so I just wrote some gibberish, haha.

If you're enjoying the book so far, thank you so so much for the support! I'd appreciate it if you could comment, vote, and add to your reading lists so more people can find out about Too Close for Comfort. 

Thankiesssss, until next update <3