many of my friends throughout the years, and between moving to London and moving back home, I miss having a good friend. Even a pal to come along with me when I walk through all the outdoor markets on the weekends would be nice. I try to give Freya and Mac some privacy, but it gets lonely and boring. I wonder if this Harris family can adopt me the way they’ve seemed to adopt Freya and Mac.
My eyes return to the bar, and I nearly growl into my drink. Why did Santino have to show up and distract me?
Mac notices my change in demeanor, and his eyes follow mine to where Santino stands at the bar with the Harris brothers. He turns his back on all the ladies talking near us. His voice is low and ominous when he leans in and asks, “Is it alright he’s here?”
My spine straightens defensively. “Why would I care?” I take another drink.
“Because you look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Mac replies knowingly. “I still don’t know exactly what the hell went on between you two, but I trusted you when you told me he wasn’t the one who put you in your position five years ago.”
“Mac,” I warn, narrowing my eyes at him. “We’re not discussing that.”
“I know, I know,” he grumbles and takes a drink. “I still would like to beat the piss out of him. He’s got the kind of face that could just do with a nice smashing.” Mac eyes me cautiously. “All you have to do is say the word, and I’ll punt him out of here faster than a football.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re not punting anyone. You can barely bend your arms in that suit.”
Mac’s cheeks turn red as he smooths his hand over his lapel. “It’s a wee bit tighter than the last time I wore it.”
“Last time you wore it, you were probably drinking protein shakes and running five miles a day on the pitch.”
Mac’s nose wrinkles. “Bloody desk job is making me soft.”
“You’re soft because you’re happy,” I reply with a small smile, trying to change the subject.
Mac smiles back. “Aye.”
He glances down at his mobile to reread the last text from Freya just five minutes ago. He’s been texting her most of the night like a sweet, overprotective husband. Freya all but forced him to go out tonight. She said she needed some time to talk to their two cats, Hercules and Jasper, about the baby on the way.
God, she’s weird. I love her.
Mac diverts his attention back to me. “Sorry if I’ve been a bit of a grumpy bear since you arrived. I’ve just been stressed about Freya and the bairn. You know I love the shite out of you for helping us out like this, don’t you?”
“You didn’t love the shite out of me before?”
Mac’s brows furrow. “Of course I did, but…well…you’ve been different since—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off, my lips thinning nervously. “Don’t bring it up. It’s in the past, aye?” I plaster on a smile that I don’t altogether feel, but I want my brother to let this train of thought go. Now.
Mac stares back at me, taking in every feature on my face and making me feel like he sees right through me. He gets a soft look in his eye that I swear to Christ, all Scottish men in my life have. It’s the kind that says, I’m tough as an ox on the outside but soft as a lily on the inside, and I’ve got too many feelings to know what to do with myself.
His nostrils flare before he nods firmly. “Aye. I won’t bring it up again.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders, and the smell of his whiskey permeates my nose. “It’s been good to see you like this, Tilly—a bit like the old Tilly, when you were wee.”
“I’m the new Tilly,” I correct with an elbow to his ribs to get his alcohol scent away from me. “New and improved and having a great time tonight, so thanks for bringing me out.”
Glancing over, I see no sign of Santino at the bar anymore, so I shake my glass at Mac. “Going to get a refill.”
“I can get it.”
“That’s okay.” I wave him off. “I can take care of myself.”
“So you keep telling me.” Mac gets a proud look in his eye just like our dad does, but his attention is diverted to Roan and Booker, who have just entered our space.
I