working as many hours as I was on extra labs, and my health was a little bit better, considering this cough just wouldn’t go away, I’d see if Dillon needed an extra pair of hands at the bar. I wanted to work, to do something, and not solely rely on trust funds.
Plus, I liked the place—the vibe of it.
And now, I was thinking about working and bars rather than the fact that Mackenzie was coming over, and I had no idea what she wanted to talk about.
The doorbell rang, and I tried not to run to it. Mostly so I didn’t appear too eager, but also because my lungs weren’t up to it. I was pretty sure I had another infection that was slowly seeping down my nasal passages, but I was fine.
I shouldn’t have kissed Mackenzie that morning because I didn’t want to get her sick, and that was on me.
Jesus, I needed to do better.
But it wasn’t like this cough had been there this morning. It had shown up suddenly and was now scaring the crap out of me.
I shook that away and opened the door.
Mackenzie was there, a bright smile on her face that was kind of terrifying. Mostly because it didn’t reach her eyes and had a bit of a manic quality to it.
“Mackenzie?”
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I said softly.
“Why are you so pale? Is everything okay?”
“I was about to ask what’s wrong with you, but let’s get you inside since it’s winter and you don’t need to catch a cold.”
And I didn’t need to give one to her.
She already had enough on her plate without dealing with my issues or getting sick.
She walked in, gave me a weird look, and I leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “I’m feeling a little under the weather,” I said honestly. “I don’t want you to get sick,” I added.
Her eyes widened. “Pacey, do you need me to leave? Wait, I have to say something first, and then I’ll leave.”
“That’s not foreboding at all,” I said softly.
She winced. “Go sit on the couch.”
“I’m not an invalid,” I grumbled.
“If you’re feeling under the weather to the point that you can’t kiss me? Go sit down. I’ll wrap you in a blanket. And if you’re not careful, I’ll microwave you some tea and make you some soup.”
I visibly shuddered. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“What, you don’t like my soup?”
“Ha ha,” I replied. I sat down on the couch and let Mackenzie wrap me up in a blanket. She sat on the other end of the sofa and looked at me.
“Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know how to begin this.”
“Now you’re scaring me.”
She swallowed hard. “Seriously, I think we fucked up.”
My eyes widened. “How?”
“I’m just going to start at the beginning. Tell you about everything that’s been going on, and see if I can get it out. Because maybe I’m wrong and I can talk my way through it.”
“Now you’re worrying me,” I said but sat back as she spoke.
“So, I went over to talk cheese and everything,” she began, and I blinked.
“Cheese?”
She waved her hand. “We had a cheeseboard. We couldn’t call it charcuterie because of the amount of meat involved,” she said, and I snorted. I couldn’t help it. She rolled her eyes. “Yes, a penis joke. Hilarious. I’m having an existential crisis right now. Can you let me continue?”
I nodded and looked at her. “Of course. Talk to me.”
“It’s just…it’s weird, I feel like a replacement there. That’s not why I’m here, but it began it all.”
“You’re not a replacement.”
She shook her head. “I know that, but it’s how I feel. They have all these amazing stories about Corinne, and she deserves to be spoken about. She deserves everything. It’s not fair that she’s gone, and we’re all still learning to grieve and deal with it. But when they start talking about her, I have nothing to contribute. I only knew her for a couple of months. And now I’m in her room, living with her friends, and I’m not her.” She looked up at me then. “I’m with you, and I feel like I’m taking her place there, as well.”
My brows shot up. “Corinne and me? We were never like that. I promise. You’re not taking her space anywhere, especially not with me.” She opened her mouth to speak, and I shook my head. “Corinne was one of my best friends. We met at the beginning of the school year, thanks to a class we took, and