Page 44 of Take What Hurts

The terror that had ripped through Mackenzie at the sound of her mother’s voice outside her front door while Elliott was trapped with her inside the apartment still simmered in every nerve ending. Mackenzie’s only thought had been that this was it. There was no escape. Elliott would bear witness to the worst version of herself. The one that was weak and pathetic and embarrassing. The version she hid from the world, under layers of well-practiced confidence and competence, and that she prayed no one she ever wanted to love or respect her would ever see in the flesh.

She shivered with the memory, and⁠—

“You all right?” Elliott murmured, loud enough for Mackenzie to hear her over Leslie Knope attempting to explain the benefits of fluoride to the easily manipulated constituents of Pawnee.

Mackenzie smiled again and played with a loose curl that stubbornly wouldn’t stay out of Elliott’s eyes. “Yeah, actually.” And she was. Because despite the terror, Elliott hadn’t run away. She’d run toward Mackenzie. Embraced the scared little girl that still lived inside her and gave her the reassurance Mackenzie hadn’t realized she’d been craving her entire life. Something deep in Mackenzie’s brain slotted into place—like a missing piece of the most complicated puzzle had finally shown itself. Turns out all it took was her mother mistreating the person she was well and truly falling for. “How are you feeling? This has all been… Well, it’s been a lot.”

Elliott’s lips curled up on the right side of her face, and she closed her eyes briefly and nodded. “It has, but it feels—um—right that we dealt with it together.”

It was warm, and safe, and fuck it if Mackenzie didn’t want to stay here with Elliott forever. Mackenzie nodded and slotted her fingers back through Elliott’s hair.

Then, like the day fading into night, Elliott’s smile faded at the edges, her eyes opening on Mackenzie’s. “I should probably get going, though.” She said it with a deep tone of regret, and her reluctance was self-evident when she failed to move even an inch away from the warmth of Mackenzie’s body. Mackenzie hesitated, her open mouth, which was ready to let all sorts of things spill out of it, snapping closed again, unsure of how to proceed. Elliott rose up on an elbow, the cute little crease appearing between her brows. “What is it?”

Mackenzie shrugged. “Or you could stay.” She didn’t look away from Elliott’s face, and she watched Elliott’s pupils grow larger in the fading light, realization dawning and eyes ticking down to Mackenzie’s mouth and back up to her eyes.

Mackenzie’s heart was hammering in her chest, and that look Elliott was giving her shot straight through her and down to her tingling core, which was flooded with a sudden rush of wet heat. Because Elliott, with her dark curls falling into her eyes and her sharp features and strong jaw, was looking at Mackenzie like she wanted to ravage her. Like she couldn’t wait. Like she would give a limb away just to touch Mackenzie. Taste her. Make Mackenzie forget her own name. And in that moment, Mackenzie knew for sure Elliott wouldn’t just be a good fuck. Elliott having her that way would fundamentally alter her. Change her brain chemistry. And she fucking wanted it. Wanted Elliott.

She heard Elliott’s breath grow ragged in the fraught silence that had expanded between them, almost like she had a window into Mackenzie’s every thought. Chests rising and falling, they held each other’s gaze, almost in challenge. The air between them grew thick and heaving with unignited sparks and lust. Mackenzie couldn’t still her shaking hands, and the lightest sheen of sweat gathered on the back of her neck. She shivered as the evening air fluttered lazily over it.

Then, in a blink, that Elliott was gone. Like she’d thrown herself across the living room. “Mackenzie, I can’t.” It came out as a pleading groan. A begging. And it only made Mackenzie flush harder, wanting her more. “We can’t.” Elliott scrubbed a long-fingered hand through her hair, and Mackenzie had to choke back a laugh at the way it stood almost straight up in the air. “Don’t get me wrong. I want to.” Another zap to Mackenzie’s center. Elliott was going to have Mackenzie in a puddle on the floor at this rate. “Like, I really do,” she continued, “but I need to do it properly if we’re going to do it, and fuck, Mackenzie, it’s not going to be like this.” Elliott’s eyes darkened as the flush rose up her neck and into her cheeks. Creeping higher into the tops of her ears. “Not with this work shit hanging over us, and all the tears. And,” she murmured, her voice impossibly low and gravelly, “it’s not going to be on your sofa in your living room.”

As though Elliott needed to be closer—to emphasize exactly what she was trying to say—she shot back toward Mackenzie and knelt on the cold tile. Hands on Mackenzie’s knees. Voice still low, eyes shades darker than they had been even moments ago, and Mackenzie gasped in a breath but, with effort, kept her hands in her lap. “Babe,” the endearment she’d hated when Reilly used it slipping out of Elliott’s mouth easily. Sounding natural. She loved it. “If we’re going to do that, I’m going to make it worth your fucking while.” Mackenzie’s stomach lurched, and she sucked in a sharp breath. Elliott crossed further into the inches of space between them, and Mackenzie closed her eyes against the soft push of breath over her lips. “And, if I do it right,” Elliott breathed, lips so close to Mackenzie’s now that they brushed lightly against hers with each word, “you’ll never want anyone but me to ever touch you again.”

Mackenzie gasped in another shuddering breath, because this Elliott was… well, she was brazen. Confident. And the hint of possessive intent was undeniably fucking sexy. There was a dominance there that Mackenzie craved like it was her next breath of fresh fucking air, and she wanted. So she lost the battle with her hands. She grabbed Elliott’s jaw in both hands and tilted her head up, bringing her up on her knees. Elliott’s eyes widened, and Mackenzie crashed their lips together. Elliott’s urgent tongue pushed past Mackenzie’s lips and into her open mouth, and with a moan that she couldn’t have suppressed even if she’d wanted to, Mackenzie fell over herself to let her in. Then, when Elliott’s long fingers started to creep up Mackenzie’s thighs, stopping inches from where Mackenzie was aching for her, Mackenzie pulled back, her lips stretched into a guileless smile.

Panting, Elliott let out a loud breath. “Fuck.”

Mackenzie’s smile broadened, and she hitched a brow. “Soon.” She relished the way Elliott hissed out another breath, eyes squeezed closed in apparent restraint. “But, for now, I just wanted to give you something to remember what this could be like. While we get our shit sorted.”

Eyes wide, almost pained, Elliott just barely held in a moan, before she pushed herself up, placed a light kiss on Mackenzie’s forehead, whispered “soon” into the shell of Mackenzie’s ear, making her shiver, and left the apartment.

TWENTY-THREE

ELLIOTT

“Elliott, can you just—” Hannah huffed in frustration. “Can you just, like, back up for a sec?”

Hannah sat across the desk from Elliott in her office, the shadows of surrounding buildings shortening in the city as a weak morning sun rose into a clear sky. Elliott loved days like this. Loved being able to look out the window and see the city spreading below her all the way to the Space Needle. Loved being able to walk down the hall to her floor’s common area and take in the remarkable sight of Mount Rainier standing sentry over the city. Hannah had not taken the news of Elliott’s conflict of interest well, but then again, Elliott hadn’t expected her to, and she hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with all the details.

“You’re recusing yourself from the matter.” It wasn’t a question. And by the way Hannah’s eyebrows sat almost in her hairline, Elliott accepted that she wasn’t going to let this go without a proper explanation.

Elliott gave a single nod and patiently repeated what she’d already told Hannah several times. “Yes. Because I have a personal conflict of interest.”

Hannah shook her head. “A personal—” She cut herself off with a huff of frustration, throwing her hands in the air. “How?” She practically howled the word, and Elliott rose to calmly close the door to her office. It was early, and she was certain no one would overhear, but to be on the safe side…

Elliott sat back down and brought her eyes back to Hannah, taking in her scowl. “Look, I know I told you Mackenzie and I were hanging out. You know, being friendly.” Hannah nodded, shifting in her seat with no small amount of irritation. “Well, we were, but then she kissed me⁠—”

“She what?” It came out as a choked shout, Hannah’s eyes wide as she shot up in her chair.

“Yes,” Elliott hissed, “and I really need you to keep a lid on it right now, okay?” Hannah slumped but gave a nod, urging Elliott to go on. “So that happened, and we kind of spent the rest of the weekend together accidentally—” Elliott cut herself off and shot Hannah a pleading look when Hannah’s mouth fell open, words almost visible on her tongue. “Nothing else happened,” she said in a rush, “just some cuddling and a lot of talking, but god, Hannah, I could hardly help myself.”

Despite the undercurrent of confusion and irritation written in every line of Hannah’s face, Elliott watched it soften and her mouth curl upward minutely as a smile of dawning understanding smoothed out the creases. “She’s the real deal, isn’t she?”

Elliott nodded. “Yeah, she is. She’s—” Elliott rolled various words around in her mouth, but none of them were right, and she frowned. “She’s, well… I think she’s sunshine. Like she lights up the scary shit, and things don’t feel so bad? And fuck, she’s surprising and has dealt with some real shit and just keeps going, you know?” Hannah was staring at Elliott like she’d never seen her before, and honestly, Elliott didn’t feel like the anxious, awkward mess she usually was, so maybe Hannah hadn’t seen her before, because nobody made her feel like this. Like she was a normal person rather than someone who required any degree of fixing or alteration.

“Anyway,” Elliott went on quickly, “I had a moment yesterday where I wasn’t sure how I was going to do my job, because I just wanted the matter to end, and I asked myself how I could properly advise Matilda when I categorically did not want to give her the cons of the offer because it might prolong things.” She readjusted herself in her chair. “I want to be with Mackenzie, but I can’t while I’m working on this matter, and she’s on the partnership track, and I’m⁠—”

“—also heading that way?” Hannah folded her arms across her chest, one eyebrow raised in question.