Page 53 of One Last Summer
“Cool,” he said, dragging his hand through his hair as he nodded toward the door, an unmistakable twinkle in his eye.
“’Kay, bye, guys!” I said to our friends, who were still mid-lunch. Normally I’d be self-conscious about their perplexed, amused looks, but I was too wired right now to care, too hopped up on lack of sleep and thoughts of Alewife and Dream Mack calling me “good girl.”
“Follow me,” he said, his hand on the small of my back. “I know a secret way.”
We rushed out through the back door of the kitchen, cutting behind Bag End and down along the water to get to the office.
Mack dug his keys out of his pocket, his hands working quickly as he twisted the lock. He pushed the door open with a grunt. Inside, the office was musty and hot, with that stale, lingering smell that sets in when the windows haven’t been opened in a few days.
Dust particles danced in the sunlight, and stacks of manila folders covered both desks that were wedged next to each other in the corner. It was exactly as I remembered, and I knew I’d want to marvel at its frozen-in-time vibe later. But right now, all I cared about was the person in front of me.
“Stuff’s in here.”
He moved quickly into the next room; walls and walls of shelves, stacked with giant gray bins labeled in thick white packing tape and black pen. Suddenly every inch of my skin was clammy, and I was acutely aware of how small this room was. Here, alone again in this tiny, windowless, glorified closet, my heart drummed steady and loud in my ears. All I could think about was the way his neck had actual, visible muscles, and how badly I wanted to run my teeth against them.
“Nick and Trey are acting weird, don’t you think? Why go for a walk?” My mouth was running a mile a minute, because being in a tight space with Mack ignited my adrenaline like a cigarette dropped at a gas station. “That just seems random, right? And they’re sleeping in separate beds.”
“Millen. I think you’re the one acting weird.” He took a step toward me, and the room was suddenly void of all oxygen as his fingers tugged at the waist of my shorts, urging me closer.
“Sorry,” I whispered, my ability to breathe long gone.
“I think you’re forgetting what I told you.” His lips grazed my cheek, his breath tickling my ear, and I closed my eyes as the room started to spin around us. “I like weird.”
And then he was kissing me again. It was both familiar and brand-new, the feeling of his mouth, soft and wanting against mine, short-circuiting my nervous system until all that was left in my brain was a jumble of sounds and feelings, all sensation and no words, except for one that seemed to pulse through my entire body, beating in time with my racing heart: More. More. More.
Suddenly we were moving, and then my back smacked up against the shelf behind me, my leg desperately trying to hitch around his hip. He slid one hand up my waist and wrapped the other around the crook of my knee, pinning us closer together. I was grabbing on to anything that could hold me up, his shoulder, the edge of the shelf behind me. I did not care about Amaya, or Alewife, or if the world ceased to exist around us. All I cared about was how his body felt against mine.
The only feeling I wanted to bottle right now was this.
“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry.” I didn’t need to open my eyes to recognize the voice that cut through the chaos of our bodies together.
“Oh my god,” I said as Mack pulled away from me, running both his hands through his hair as I tugged down my shirt, which Mack had somehow gotten half over one shoulder.
“Marla,” Mack started, his face flushed, from both lust and embarrassment, presumably. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Nope, no need to apologize. I just came here to grab some tax returns, and saw this door was open.” She shielded her eyes, but there was no hiding the smile that snuck out underneath. “You two enjoy the storage room.”
We stood there, frozen, until we heard the door to the office slam shut, and then Mack turned to me, a hand still on his forehead. “Wow.”
“That was awkward,” I said, trying to form coherent thoughts as my body tingled.
“Marla has known me since I was ten years old, and I don’t think I’ve ever so much as introduced her to anyone I’ve dated, much less made out with someone in front of her,” he said, his face still stunned.
“Well, it’s not like she can fire you,” I said with a dazed laugh.
But Mack was distracted. He was looking at the bins on the shelf, which we were technically here to get, and then back up at me.
“Let’s get these out of here,” he suggested with a shake of his head toward the door. “We can store them in the boathouse.”
“Okay,” I said, agreeing quickly. He pointed at a box labeled RELAY, and I’d never hoisted something into my arms so fast in my life. It could have weighed fifty pounds or been packed full of feathers. I had no idea. I’d carry a car over my shoulder if it meant getting to finally see Mack naked.
We hustled out of the back room and into the main office, and then out the door. Mack paused to lock up and then took off with a jog, speeding by me, giant bin balanced in his arms.
“Are we racing?” I shouted, a couple of feet behind him.
He whipped his head around, lips parted, eyes narrow in thought, as if he was trying to decide if he should kiss me right here. “I mean, I think we’re both about to be winners here, don’t you?”
“I’m trying really hard not to make a joke about someone finishing first,” I cracked, breathless, working overtime to catch up with him.
