Page 24 of Take What Hurts

Too late now, because Elliott had finally broken through the crowd. Huffing, she came to a stop in front of them. “Hey,” she breathed.

“Hi.” And, god, if it didn’t come out as breathless as if she’d just finished running a fucking marathon. Of course, Elliott looked… far too good in her black down jacket open against the heat of the crowd, her plain white T-shirt a stark contrast against the olive-toned skin of her neck. And it hung just right down to her washed-out forest green chinos and the high-top Nikes. And if there was anything hotter than that androgynous simplicity, Mackenzie didn’t know what it would be.

And then a smile blistered open across Elliott’s face and she leaned toward Mackenzie, and every atom that composed her skin tingled in anticipation. Then Elliott’s eyes flicked to Frankie. Time seemed to stop as Elliott’s face contorted with a question, followed by an apparent realization that made her face collapse, before she wrenched herself back upright and affixed an expression so neutral that every line in her skin disappeared. Elliott cleared her throat and spoke: “I’m sorry.” She laughed, but it was shaky and forced as she stiffly offered her hand to Frankie. “You must be Mackenzie’s girlfriend.”

Frankie’s eyes widened, and Mackenzie’s cheeks burned. She shot Frankie a look of warning. The only sound was the rumbling noise of the crowd around them, before Frankie guffawed out a laugh. Elliott’s hand dropped with a slap to her thigh, eyebrows drawing down in confusion. Before Frankie could slap her own special brand of awkward on this situation, Mackenzie rushed to clarify.

“This is Frankie. My best friend.” She brought a hand down on Frankie’s shoulder and squeezed. She reveled in the way Elliott sagged where she stood. Mackenzie’s little heart flopped in her chest. Was there anything more adorable than this person who wore every thought on her face and was otherwise as subtle as a battering ram?

Now Frankie stuck out her hand, and Elliott took it. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Frankie grinned wickedly and pulled her hand away.

Elliott, wide-eyed, glanced at Mackenzie. “Uh⁠—”

Mackenzie laughed, heat seeping into her cheeks. “Ignore her.”

Frankie hummed under her breath and studied the two of them for a moment before she glanced down at the phone in her hand. “Oh, you know what,” she said—far too brightly—waving her blank phone screen in Mackenzie’s face. “Parker’s calling me. Booty call, ya know? I’m gonna go.”

Elliott snorted and choked on the laugh that tried to make it past her lips, and Mackenzie’s mouth dropped open. “Frankie, nobody is calling you.” She motioned to the blank screen.

Frankie was already backstepping away into the crowd, a merciless grin cracking across her face. “I’ll call you,” she mouthed. A moment later, she turned around, melted into the crowd, and was gone.

Mackenzie rolled her eyes and turned back to Elliott, who had her hands shoved deep in the pockets of her chinos, shoulders raised and a small smile tilting the edges of her mouth up. “Did I, um—did I do something?”

Mackenzie sighed, a small bark of exasperated laughter pushing out of her mouth with it. “No, you didn’t. That’s just Frankie.” She took a breath and lifted her eyes to Elliott’s, which promptly began inspecting a glob of gum flattened on the pavement. Mackenzie peered up at Elliott, hand reaching out to wrap around her forearm, and gave it a small squeeze. “Really, you didn’t.”

Elliott glanced up at her, mouth pulling into a small smile. “I believe you.” Eyes darting toward the sound of a kid shouting somewhere to their right, she seemed to deliberate for a moment, and Mackenzie waited. Elliott, she’d noticed, needed time to get words out sometimes, and Mackenzie had all day. Finally, Elliott spoke, voice tentative, and Mackenzie’s heart squeezed in her chest. “Hey—I’m uh—” She scratched at a spot on the back of her head, face scrunched in thought, and Mackenzie had to bring a hand to her stomach to ease the fluttering there. “I’m sorry about the other day—at the café? I shouldn’t have said anything about the phone call. It’s not professional.”

Mackenzie wondered if Elliott ever spoke to another lawyer without ruminating over their every interaction for weeks after, or if she only did that with Mackenzie. Mackenzie peered up at Elliott through her lashes, a small smile tugging at her lips, and shook her head. “Is this something you do?”

“What do you mean?”

Mackenzie squeezed her arm again. “This is the third time we’ve run into each other like this, and it’s the second time you’ve needlessly apologized for a very normal interaction between lawyers.” Mackenzie pulled her hand away and shoved it deep into a pocket. “Are you okay?” She tilted her head toward the clothing booths, and Elliott nodded, falling into step beside her.

Elliott nodded, the frown lines in her face shallowing minutely, but still visible in her distress. “It’s—um.” She stepped around a kid who’d spilled his french fries all over the pavement before rejoining Mackenzie. Closer this time. Every nerve ending in Mackenzie’s body tingled at the proximity. “I find it very hard to know when I’ve overstepped. And”—she cleared her throat—“it’s especially difficult with you.”

Mackenzie ached to make the waver in Elliott’s voice disappear. Despite her brain screaming at her to just not, she reached out a hand and took Elliott’s. Her fingers were warm, despite the frigidness of the day, and her eyes matched—the honey brown molten when she finally looked at Mackenzie. “Why?”

Elliott glanced down at their interconnected hands, before her face tilted to the iron gray band of clouds above. “Um, anxiety, I think?” She squeezed Mackenzie’s hand, and Mackenzie couldn’t tell if it was involuntary or not. She hoped it wasn’t. “I haven’t been diagnosed. But there’s—” She shrugged. “There’s stuff there.”

Mackenzie nodded. That hadn’t escaped her. “And why is it difficult with me?”

Elliott shrugged. “It was all a bit unconventional, I guess? Us meeting, then finding out we’re opponents. You know? My brain struggles to keep it all straight, I think. But, in answer to your original question, it’s like this with a lot of interactions I have at work.”

The experienced lawyer in Mackenzie wanted to advise and teach and mentor. To mollify and praise. But that wasn’t her place. Especially not in her position, right now, as a person who was hopelessly attracted to Elliott, her entire body sparking like a live wire.

Instead, Mackenzie sucked in a sharp breath of cold air and forced her face into a smile as she squeezed and let Elliott’s hand go. Her skin cooled with the loss, and it occurred to her what her body wanted was to take hold of that hand again and keep it in hers for as long as she could.

Right then she should have said goodbye.

She should have walked away and ended this moment of connection right fucking there. Should have preserved the small part of her brain that was rational enough to know failing to walk away right now would make everything—her professional life, her personal life; all of it—that much harder than it was already becoming.

But the small, tender space in her chest that was drawn like a fucking magnet to Elliott pleaded with her and won over her sensible brain again. Eyes on Elliott’s, she fed the kindling flame heating her lower abdomen. “I get that, and I’m happy to listen if you want advice. But for right now, want to go shop for some clothes that I definitely don’t need with me?”

Like fireworks on the Fourth of July, Elliott’s face erupted into a blazing smile that brought out a little dimple Mackenzie hadn’t noticed before but that added another log to the small fire burning in that spot low in her abdomen.

“Yeah, I’d love that. Let’s go,” she said, sticking her hand out for Mackenzie to take.

As she grasped Elliott’s warm palm again, the fire roared in earnest, her heart leaping. Elliott intertwined their fingers, and another spark shot straight up Mackenzie’s arm and into her chest, and for a luxurious moment, she ignored the way the voice in her brain—which was becoming softer and softer with every minute she spent with Elliott—told her Elliott had likely only offered her hand so they wouldn’t get separated.