Page 6 of My Only One


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“I miss her, too. I wish I could get a cat.”

“Mm-hmm.” I love Dally to death, but I wouldn’t put a pet in her care. The woman is dangerously forgetful when it comes to anything but her lab.

“I can hear your judgment over the phone,” Dally accuses.

“I didn’t say a thing,” I protest. Castle rubs her wet nose against my chin. I drop a kiss on her small forehead and let her use my chin as a scratching post as she butts the top of her head against me.

“You don’t have to.”

“Well, darling, you haven’t kept a plant alive so I’m a little concerned about wee ones that require regular feeding.”

“I’m not that bad,” she exclaims.

Castle climbs down to my chest and curls into a small ball. I absently pet her as I answer Dally. “Maybe if the pet was a lab experiment and you had to monitor her regularly, it’d be okay but, darling, outside of the lab you’re kind of a disaster.” Which is why I’m around. Dally can deploy her brilliance with her DNA lab and I can take care of Dally. It’s a perfect solution and everyone sees it but her.

“You’re supposed to be my friend, Mack.”

“I thought you said a true friend was one who would tell you if there was lipstick on your teeth.”

“Which you didn’t do,” she points out.

“Once! Once I didn’t do that in college and I didn’t point it out because you looked pretty.”

“With lipstick on my teeth? Come on, Mack. No one looks good with lipstick on their teeth.”

“You did.” She looks good all the time.

“Whatever. Let’s move on. What car do you think I should get?”

I pull out my laptop and hit some car sites. Dally may not love me, but I’m her best friend. We end every night talking on the phone like this. If I can’t be with her, at least I have this.

Chapter 5

Dally

I open my fridge and of course there is nothing inside of it. I don’t know what I thought I was going to find. I hadn’t eaten enough last night and I woke up hungry. I normally would skip breakfast but my stomach isn’t going to let me today. It’s then I remember I don’t have a car to stop and grab something. That is the one thing I’d forgotten to ask Mack last night. I have no idea where I’m supposed to pick up the car. I’m pretty sure he didn’t mention that part. I’ll have to text him and ask.

He’d started talking about different types of cars I should test drive and I might have fallen asleep. It wasn’t because Mack bores me; I was exhausted from the day. I should have been listening better but his voice always comforts me so much that it actually lulled me to sleep. I would need a new car and as usual, Mack is willing to help. He always has a calming effect on me. In the back of my mind I somehow always know that he will handle important things for me. No matter how much I try and fight to do them on my own. He gives me more peace of mind than I think I’ve realized before now. Knowing that he’ll be there no matter how many times we bicker about little things. Each night before we both go to bed, my phone buzzes and his name appears on the screen. I always pick up regardless of what happened between us that day.

Maisie’s reminder that Mack isn’t always going to be around has me slamming the refrigerator door. Anger I shouldn’t have courses through me that he thinks he’s going somewhere. Who the hell would he be going somewhere with? I try and shake it off. Mack has been acting different. I’m pretty sure he called me darling. I didn’t call him on it because what if that wasn’t what he said? Then I would’ve felt all awkward for saying out loud that I thought he called me a term of endearment. Still, that little word coming from his lips felt foreign. I search my mind trying to think of whether he calls other people names like sweetheart or love but I come up with nothing.

My phone that’s still on my charger in my bedroom starts to ring. It was almost dead when my alarm went off this morning. Another clue that I passed out with Mack still on the phone. I dash toward my bedroom, seeing Mack’s name appear across the screen.

“Hey,” I answer.

“You okay?” His voice comes out worried.

“Yeah. Why?” I glance at the clock. I’m not running late. Why is he worried?

“You’re out of breath,” he says.

“Not all of us get up and run miles on end in the morning. A dash down the hall to grab a phone can leave some of us winded.” I turn, finding shoes to slip on.

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