Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
I finagle my body around and put my good foot to the floor, before leaning over to the nightstand with my hand for some extra leverage. My pinkie brushes a piece of paper, stopping any and all progress immediately. When I pick it up for closer inspection, the jagged lines of Mack’s handwriting give way to a personal note written just for me.
Katy,
Since you were pretty out of it last night, I figured I should remind you that you can’t put weight on your foot. Use the crutches leaning right in front of you to get around.
And don’t hesitate to call my cell if you need any help this morning.
-Mack
PS: I know you’re probably rolling your eyes right now, but this is doctor’s orders. You gotta follow them, babe.
I hate that he’s right. I am, in fact, rolling my eyes at the mere idea of having to use crutches while I’m on vacation at the beach. One step in the sand and I’ll be flat on my ass.
Despite my annoyance, I grab the crutches and put them to use standing from the bed and hobbling out of the bedroom.
The kitchen is my mission, and not so long ago, I would have laughed at myself for how pathetic that sounds. Anna and I had big plans to make this birthday one to remember. We were going to do a spa day and shopping, and I had even agreed to go dancing at a few Destin clubs.
Now, the closest I’m going to get to the spa is a cucumber in the fridge, and the club might as well be the moon.
I’m practically in full-on pity party mode as I finish the short, crutches-assisted walk down the hall, but when something bouncy smacks me on the top of my downturned head, I come to an abrupt stop and look up.
What the…?
Balloons and streamers in all colors of the rainbow cover what feels like every inch of the kitchen and living room. Even a giant “Happy Birthday” sign sits above the mantel.
Suddenly, I feel the need to blink incessantly. My eyeballs are doing their best to have a little rain shower.
“Happy birthday, Katy,” Mack says softly, his board-short-covered hip hitched against the marble countertop beside the fridge.
“D-did you do all this?”
“I had to make sure you started your thirties off right.” His smile is so damn genuine, it makes my heart pound like a kick drum inside my chest.
Mack did all of this? For me?
Boy oh boy, do I have the feeling I missed some things last night.
“How did you know it was my birthday?”
“Your dad.”
My head jerks back in surprise. “My dad?”
“I had a nice FaceTime call with him yesterday while you were sleeping off the morphine.”
“Oh my God.”
Mack nods. Laughs a little. “You can’t be mad because you’re the one who handed me the phone when he called.”
I cringe, hanging my head in my hands. I can only freaking imagine what else I did. “Oh. My. God. I just know I have reason to be mortified.”
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself.” He flashes an amused wink in my direction. “Morphine tends to do that to people.”
“Just…tell me. How far off the rails did I go?”
His non-response makes me groan.
“Oh no. I was a disaster, wasn’t I?”
“Relax.” Mack shakes his head on a soft chuckle. “Other than fighting half the ER staff, you weren’t that bad.”
“What?! Tell me you’re joking!”
“You can have the truth, or you can have what you want, Katy Cat. But you can’t have both.”
“Gah.”
“Don’t sweat it,” he says with a shrug. “It’ll be our little secret, okay? No one else will ever have to know you were kung fu fighting,” he promises, singing the last three words like the giant goofball that he is.
It takes a strong roll of my eyes to bring my attention away from him and back to the condo and everything he’s set up. The balloons and streamers are still there, hanging prominently throughout the kitchen and living room, the happy birthday sign still sits above the mantel, and upon this second look, I even see a bottle of wine and a box of donuts in a bow-strewn basket on the table.
This might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me…
“Mack?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” I tell him frankly. It’s what he deserves to hear. No games, no insults, no references to his shortcomings of days past. He stepped up for me in a way that I don’t know if I could have stepped up for him, and he did it without guarantee of repayment. “For taking care of me yesterday…” I pause and wave my hand around the room. “And for all of this. You really didn’t have to do any of it, but for some reason, you did. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”