“Hey, gorgeous,” he said before leaning close and giving me a kiss on the cheek.

  I hadn’t expected either of those things—the compliment or the kiss—and I wondered how much he’d had to drink. Was he as drunk as Matt?

  “Sorry again, Operation SunnyMac,” Matt slurred his words as he stumbled away, and I pressed my lips together to stop from giggling.

  “New recruit?” I asked, assuming Matt was a new freshman.

  “Transfer,” Mac corrected, and I nodded in surprise.

  For whatever reason, I’d expected a transfer student to be a little less sloppy than a first-time freshman.

  “Any idea what he’s talking about? The operation thing?” I tried to question, but Mac seemed distracted.

  “Who cares?” He waved Matt off. “He’s trashed.”

  “You look nice,” I said before I could stop myself, taking in the way his shirt pulled tightly across his biceps and shoulders. Freaking baseball players always had the best arms.

  “You always look nice,” he fired back, and I felt my face get hot.

  I was pretty shocked that we were standing face-to-face and not tearing each other’s throats out like we’d been doing all the other times before this one. And I’d been looking forward to—and dreading—this moment since he’d left that flower in my car.

  “I like your hair.” His fingers reached out and grabbed some of my newly dyed silver strands, twisting them around as he stared.

  At some point during the last two weeks, I’d found myself craving some sort of drastic change. My hair seemed like the easiest thing to control and manipulate, so I’d gone to the store, picked out a box of silver permanent hair dye, and done it myself, praying that it would look good. I had no idea how much I’d love it.

  “The color really suits you,” he added.

  I found myself at a loss for words. I—Sunny Jamison, who rarely got flustered to the point of being unable to speak—couldn’t find a single syllable to utter in this moment. I knew I was supposed to be angry with him still, but I was struggling to hold on to that particular emotion.

  A loud crash caused us both to startle and break away from one another. We looked around, and Mac spotted the chaos before I did, his head shaking with his disapproval. Matt was on the floor.

  “Shit,” Mac mumbled. “I gotta go handle that,” he said, giving my shoulder a quick squeeze. “Do not go anywhere,” he insisted before hurrying off and leaving me alone.

  I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I stay put and wait for Mac to come back, or should I wander the house and see if I know anyone else here?

  Feeling unsure and uncomfortable, I decided to go walk around instead of staying in one place like a loner with no friends.

  Wandering a crowded house filled with drunk athletes on the prowl might have been a mistake, considering that I was doing said wandering alone, but at least I was sober. I got stopped every few feet by random guys offering me a drink. Instead of taking one from any of them, I kept moving, not stopping until I got into the backyard, where a pony keg sat, unattended. It was shocking that no one else was outside when this was usually the place to be at these parties.

  I moved toward the steel barrel and poured myself a cup of ...foam.

  “It’s out,” a voice sounded from somewhere behind me, and I spun around quickly to see Colin stalking my way.

  “Already?” I asked even though the answer was obvious.

  “We might have started a little too early,” he said with a grin. “But you came! I knew you’d come,” he said before pulling me into a tight hug. “Your hair looks sick,” he said, and I was surprised that he could even see it in the dark.

  I liked Colin. He was always so laid-back and happy, and the text messages from earlier had swayed my decision.

  “Thanks. And, well, you did threaten to kidnap me if I didn’t show up tonight.”

  “It was a necessary evil,” he said seriously, and I gave him the side-eye. “What? It was. It is. It’s pertinent that you and Mac work your shit out.”

  “Ooh, pertinent, eh? Big word,” I teased.

  “You have no idea what he’s been like lately,” Colin added, sounding stressed.

  But he was right. I didn’t have any idea because I hadn’t freaking talked to or seen Mac since the morning he’d changed my tire.

  “And I think it’s because of you.”

  “Me? What did I do?”

  Colin shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me, but you have to fix him, okay? He’s broken now.”

  Before I could overanalyze what he had said or ask him anything else, a group of people appeared from the side of the yard, carrying something between them, and Colin cheered in response.

  “Excuse us,” a random male voice boomed as they tossed the empty keg out of the way and replaced it with a new one.

  And just like that, the backyard went from empty to packed, and I was uncomfortable again. I was a walking contradiction—hating being alone in my apartment because I was scared to death, but dying to get away from all these people at a party. What the heck is wrong with me?

  While Colin was distracted, I decided to head back into the house and look for Mac. Once I was back inside, I realized that Mac was nowhere to be found, and I had no idea where he was. Maybe I should have stayed out there with Colin until he found me.

  I kept scanning the packed rooms, looking for his long, surfer-like hair and sexy frame before someone tapped me on the shoulder three times. When I turned my neck, my eyes instantly crashed into Mac’s hazel beauties, and my entire body relaxed in his presence.

  “There you are,” he said with a half-grin. “I was looking for you.”

  I coughed out a breath. “For little ole me?”

  “Yep,” he said, his hand suddenly on my bare lower back, and I instinctively leaned into it, loving the way his rough fingers felt against my skin there.

  The thought of super-gluing his hand to my body crossed my mind, and I had to stop myself from laughing out loud.

  He whispered into my ear, “I told you not to move.”

  Before I could come up with a witty retort in response, a brunette female stepped between us, forcing Mac to drop his hand. I wanted to kick her in the teeth for making that offensive action happen, but then her hands ran down the length of Mac’s chest, and I wondered if it was the first time she’d touched him or not. I suddenly envisioned myself doing much more than just punting her.

  “I’ve been looking for you all night, Mac.” She was practically drooling as she said his name, and I wanted to vomit all over her bare legs.

  “I’ve been here,” he responded, but it wasn’t flirtatious or even entirely friendly.

  I’d honestly never seen Mac be anything less than charming, especially to girls, and him rebuffing her made me feel good.

  “Want to go to your room?”

  “No,” he said before gesturing in my direction. “I was talking to Sunny, and you interrupted.”

  Tall girl gave me a quick glance before dismissing me. “Well, I’m here now, so you can talk to me instead.”

  “Wow,” I said loud enough for her to hear me, but she didn’t even look in my direction.

  “That’s pretty rude,” Mac added, and I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up and out of my mouth.

  “I can be anything you want me to be. I’ve heard all about you, Mac. You’re legendary. I want to be a part of it.” She batted her eyelashes and licked her lips.

  “No, thanks,” Mac said, trying to maintain his composure, but I could tell that she was pushing his buttons, and it was pissing me off to witness such blatant disrespect.

  “But, Mac.” She reached for his chest again, and I saw spots.

  “Seriously? He said no. Can’t you hear?” I ripped her hands off of his chest and gave her a slight jab.

  “Mind your own business, twat,” she spat, looking me up and down, her lips twisting, as if my very presence disgusted her.

  “Did you seriously just call me a twat? What are you, seven?” I asked forcefully, my need to defend Mac and not myself fueling my ire. “And he obviously isn’t interested. A concept you can’t seem to get through your thick fucking skull,” I growled.

  “Mac’s always interested.” She looked at him like he was a piece of meat who had no opinion or say over his own body. “Aren’t you, babe?”

  She clawed his shoulder and tried to hold on, but he wiggled out of her grip. Before he could make another move away from her, she pressed her lips against his, and I stood there, my mouth falling open in shock. I watched as Mac unattached her from him with force and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Are you joking right now? Who does that shit?”

  “What?” The girl feigned shocked by his rejection as she continued to bat her fake lashes at Mac. “I thought that’s what you wanted. You kiss everyone, right?”

  “He said no. Multiple times!” I yelled, and before I could stop myself, I shoved her hard enough to make her lose her balance and fall flat on her ass.

  Oops.

  “You bitch!” she screamed at me as she struggled to get up, but her shoes were too tall, and she stayed on the floor instead.

  “Mouth rapist,” I shouted back before Mac had his arms wrapped around me, holding me back because I was coming. Absolutely. Unglued.

  “Come on, Cujo,” he whispered in my ear, pulling me away.

  I noticed that we had drawn a little too much attention to our situation. It only surprised me because the music was so loud and everyone was usually too caught up in their own world to notice anything happening outside of their little bubble. But I guessed that tossing someone to the ground might cause a commotion.

  I had no idea where Mac was dragging me off to, but I didn’t care. I was happy to get away from the drama, the unwanted attention, and the girl who had refused to take no for an answer. I wasn’t paying attention to where we were walking, my eyes still filled with rage, but Mac pulled me into a bedroom before shutting and locking the door behind us.

  Sweet, Broken Boy

  Sunny

  “I really hope this is yours.” I looked around the space, taking note of the size, and realized that we were in Chance’s old room. Which was now Mac’s.

  There were piles of clothes on the floor and baseballs randomly scattered all over the place. A single wood bat lay across the desk, covering a closed laptop and a dark blue notebook.

  Mac sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands. Blowing out a long, slow breath, he looked up at me, his light-hazel eyes weary. “Thanks for that, Sunny.”

  I moved next to him to sit before hopping right back up and pacing. I was too amped up to stay still. “Girls shouldn’t treat you like that,” I said as fire raged through my veins. I wanted to rip that chick’s hair out in clumps. “You know that, right, Mac?” I suddenly had a feeling that he didn’t.

  “But I created this, you know? ‘The playboy baseballer who hooks up with a different girl every night,’ ” he said, using his fingers to make air quotes before glancing up at me, his bright eyes locking on to mine before looking away in defeat.

  “It might be a part of who you are, but it’s not all you are.” I stopped pacing and took a few calming breaths before dropping my body next to his once more and doing my best to stay put. Placing my hand on his thigh, I continued, “And even if you are a giant flirt and hook up with girls all the time, that doesn’t mean you don’t get a say in the matter.”

  He wasn’t listening to me. I could see it in his eyes, his body language. Mac was lost in his thoughts.

  “It’s my fault. I did this to myself,” he mumbled to himself.

  We girls went through this kind of thing all the time—blaming ourselves for the actions of others. We’d been subliminally taught to question every single thing from what we wore to what we said. Did we smile too much? Did our body language contradict our words? We broke down every single aspect of what we had done to deserve whatever it was that had happened to us, that’d wronged us. Because society had basically told us that people wouldn’t take us at our word. They wouldn’t believe what we said, just because we said it. They’d look at everything else to make it our fault. It was ironic to see it happening to a guy.

  “No, it’s not. And you did not. You said no, Mac.” I emphasized the word no, but he still wasn’t looking at me. Reaching for his chin, I gripped it softly and turned him to face me. “You said no. You have every right to say no regardless of how many times you’ve said yes before.”

  “Thanks.” He was so quiet that I wasn’t sure I’d actually heard it or made it up.

  I let go of his face, and he focused on his hands in his lap.

  “Sunny, I’m really sorry about this summer. And that first party. And hell, I’m sorry about all of it. I haven’t been nice to you, and I know that, but I couldn’t seem to stop. I have no excuse, but I really am sorry.”

  I was taken aback. I hadn’t expected him to actually apologize or own up to what he’d done without being confronted about it. If I’d brought it up, most guys would have played it off like they had no idea what I was talking about or made up a hundred excuses as to why they had been too busy to return a single text message when everyone knew the truth—we made time for the things we wanted. And sending a text took literally two seconds.

  “Thank you,” I said, accepting his apology because it was one of the things I knew I’d needed from him.

  “That’s it? You forgive me?” He actually brightened up a little, his hands unclenching.

  “I mean,” I started, “I still have questions. And I don’t like how you treated me.”

  He put a finger to my lips, stopping me. “I know. I really do know. And I’m not sure how to make you believe me, but I am sorry. I wish there were another word or something else I could say. I’ll keep saying it if that’s what you need. I’ll tell you I’m sorry every day for a year if it helps.”

  A small laugh escaped my lips with his offer. I believed that if I told Mac I needed that daily apology, he would give it to me. I wasn’t sure exactly what I required, but since he’d opened the door to this conversation, I decided to go for it. We were going to have to address it all sooner or later. I just hadn’t expected it to come up tonight, during a party.

  “Can I ask why you did it then? Why you ignored me this summer and why you’ve been mean since?” I hoped he couldn’t hear the hurt in my voice, but I had done a shit job at hiding it.

  Mac’s gaze leveled me. His eyes were so intense, filled with so many things I couldn’t even begin to read or understand. All I could do was stare back and wait for whatever insight he’d give me.

  “Our phone call that night,” he started, and I was instantly back in that moment, “I told you so many personal things.”

  “You did,” I agreed, hoping that I didn’t sound like I was judging him for it.

  “I felt stupid after.” His eyes pulled together, and he looked like he was in physical pain.

  “Why? Why would telling me all that make you feel stupid?” I hated that he felt dumb about that conversation when it had made me feel anything but.

  After we’d hung up, I’d felt so close to Mac, and I loved it. He had sounded so burdened, and I wrongfully assumed that talking to me had eased the weight he’d been carrying. I’d figured I’d made him feel better, not worse. So, hearing him say that he felt badly almost made me wish I could take the call back and that we’d never had it in the first place. Almost.

  “Because I was so ...” He paused, staring up at the ceiling before bringing those beautiful hazel-colored eyes back to mine again. “I was so weak that night, Sunny. I was upset. And jealous. And angry. I’d never said half the shit I said to you to anyone else before. Ever.”

  My hand moved to his thigh, and I squeezed it, feeling the muscles in his leg flex. “That’s usually a good thing, Mac.”

  “Not for a guy like me.”

  He swallowed hard, and I had no idea what he was talking about. To be honest, I was a little too scared to ask. Now, I was the one feeling foolish.

  “Are you worried that I’ll tell someone what you told me?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. You would have already done that by now if you were going to.”

  A quick huff escaped me. “That’s not very reassuring.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I have trust issues.” He tried to play it off like it was a joke, but he was serious.

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “So, that’s why I pulled away this summer. It fucking killed me to ignore you, and I knew I was doing the wrong thing—I need you to know that. But I convinced myself that I couldn’t let you in any deeper. I had to stop myself from reaching out to you almost every day,” he explained, and my heart physically ached with his words. “And then whenever I saw you, I felt dumb and ashamed and embarrassed. And I thought that was all you saw when you looked at me too.”

  Good Lord. This guy ... is ... killing ... me.

  Mac closed his eyes before blinking a few times. “Some dumb, weak guy who practically cried on the phone with you one night because he hadn’t gotten drafted and he felt sorry for himself.”

  “Mac,” I said his name, and my voice cracked. I was getting emotional. “I never, not once, thought of you or saw you that way. Being able to talk about your emotions is a strength, not a weakness. Any guy can shove his emotions down and pretend they aren’t feeling them, but it takes a bigger man to admit when he’s sad or not okay. I got off the phone with you that night, knowing I had never felt closer to anyone in my life.”

  “Really?” he asked, sounding completely surprised.

  “I’d never wanted you more,” I admitted, feeling vulnerable and embarrassed myself. Being this honest was more than a little terrifying.

  He softly shook his head, like this was almost too far-fetched for him to comprehend. “I figured you were as repulsed by me as I was.”

  Oh dear. My poor, sweet, broken boy.

  Colin was right. Mac needed fixing. Or maybe he just needed some good old-fashioned loving.