Good Girl Complex(Avalon Bay #1)(25)

“There,” she says, touching my arm. “All better.”

“Thanks.” My voice sounds a bit gravelly.

“No problem.” Hers sounds slightly hoarse.

I find myself momentarily caught in her bright green eyes. Taunted by the flashes of her almost-naked body as the hem of my shirt rises on her thighs. Her warm palm against my skin. The thrumming in her neck that tells me she’s not indifferent to me either.

I could do it. Take her by the hips, coax her into straddling me. Shove my hand through her hair and pull her mouth to mine in a blistering kiss. I’m not supposed to sleep with her unless she initiates, but if the chemistry sizzling between us is any indication, I suspect she won’t stop with a kiss. It’ll be a kiss that leads to the bed that leads to getting balls deep inside her. She’ll dump Kincaid faster than you can say game over. I win. Mission accomplished.

But where’s the fun in that?

“Now,” I say, “about your friend.”

Mackenzie blinks, as if snapping out of the same lust stupor I’d fallen into.

We draw a warm bubble bath for the puppy and put her in. She’s a completely different animal all of a sudden. The drowned rat becomes a small golden retriever, splashing around and playing with a bottle of shampoo that falls into the tub. Poor thing is all skin and bones, lost or abandoned by its mother, and she didn’t have a collar when we found her. The shelter will have to figure out if she’s chipped or not.

After we scrub the dog clean and dry her off, I set out a bowl of water in the kitchen and feed her some cut up turkey franks. Not ideal, but it’s the best we have under the circumstances. While the pup eats, I leave the door open and step out to the back deck. The temperature’s cooled off, and the ocean breeze is blowing in off the water. Out on the horizon, a tiny blip of a boat’s bow lights flickers as it travels.

“You know …” Mac comes beside me.

I’m acutely aware of her, every nerve attuned in her direction. This chick barely glances at me and I’m half hard. It’s very annoying.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she finishes.

“And why’s that?”

“I think you know why.” Her voice is soft, measured. She’s testing me as much as herself.

“You don’t seem like the kind of girl who does anything she doesn’t want to.” I turn to meet her eyes. In my limited experience, Mackenzie is stubborn. Not the type to get pushed around. I’m under no illusion that she’s here because I’m so damn clever.

“You’d be surprised,” she says ruefully.

“Tell me.”

She appraises me. Doubtful. Questioning how sincere my interest is.

I raise a brow. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“I’d like to think so,” she says, wary.

“Then talk to me. Let me get to know you.”

She continues to study me. Christ. When she stares into me like this, I feel her picking me apart, working things out. I’ve never felt so exposed in front of another person before. For some reason, it doesn’t bother me as much as it probably should.

“I thought freedom was being self-sufficient,” she finally confesses. “I’m finding out that isn’t exactly true. I know this probably sounds stupid coming from me, but I feel trapped. By expectations and promises. Trying to make everyone else happy. I wish I could be selfish for once. Do what I want, when I want, how I want.”

“So why don’t you?”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Sure it is.” Rich people are always going on about how money is such a burden. That’s only because they don’t know how to use it. They get so caught up in their bullshit, they forget they don’t actually need their dumb friends and stupid country clubs. “Forget ’em. Someone’s making you miserable? Something is holding you back? Forget ’em and move on.”

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip. “I can’t.”

“Then you don’t want it bad enough.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Of course not. What’s ever been fair? People spend their whole lives complaining about things they’re unwilling to change. At a certain point, either pluck up the courage or shut up.”

Laughter sputters out of her. “Are you telling me to shut up?”

“No, I’m telling you there are plenty of ways that life and circumstances beyond our control conspire to keep us down. The least we can do is get out of our own way.”

“What about you?” She turns on me, pointing the question back in my face. “What do you want right now that you can’t have?”

“To kiss you.”

She narrows her eyes.

I should regret saying that, but I don’t. I mean, what’s stopping me from kissing her, from telling her I want to? Gotta pull the trigger on this thing at some point, right? I’ve clearly got her on the hook. If I don’t commit to this plan now, why am I wasting my time?

So I watch her, trying to discern her reaction through the stone-cold fa?ade of indifference. This chick is implacable. But for a split second, I glimpse the flicker of heat in her gaze as she considers it. Gaming it out. One action begetting another, a cascade effect of consequences.

She licks her lips.