Good Girl Complex: An Avalon Bay Novel

I catch a glimpse of Mac through the flames of the bonfire, a glowing fleeting glimpse, before a wave of beer smacks me in the face.

“Asshole.”

Confusion jolts through me. Staggering backward from the firepit, I wipe my eyes with sandy fingers. I blink a few times, using my forearm to mop beer off my face. I blink again, and Mac is directly in front of me, holding an empty red cup in her hand. As our friends all stand there staring at us, I struggle to understand what the hell is happening.

“Lying asshole,” she repeats with seething ferocity.

Evan tries to approach her. “Whoa, what was that for?”

“No. Fuck you too.” She points a warning finger at him. “You lied to me. Both of you.”

Beyond her slender shoulder, I spot Alana weaving her way through the crowd, trailed by Heidi. Alana looks guilty. Heidi’s expression is one of pure apathy.

Mac’s expression? Sheer betrayal.

And now I get it. Reading her face, I feel like I’m falling. It’s like that second when our brains jerk inside our skulls and we experience a frozen moment of terror before the descent, because we know: This is going to hurt. There’s nothing to grab on to now. She’s got me dead to rights.

“Mac, let me explain,” I start hoarsely.

“You used me,” she shouts.

Her arm thrusts forward and the empty cup bounces off my chest. A stunned audience stands silent, retreating to the opposite side of the pit.

“It was all about revenge this whole time.” She shakes her head repeatedly, the emotions in her eyes running the gamut from embarrassed to incensed to disappointed.

I think about the first night I approached her, how irritated I was at having to feign interest in some stuck-up clone. How she snuck up on me with her smile and wit.

What the hell did she ever see in me to make it this far?

“It started that way,” I admit. I’ve got seconds, maybe, to get this out before she runs off and never speaks to me again, so I drop the bullshit and lay it all on the table. “Yes, I found you because I wanted to get back at him. I was stupid and pissed off. And then I met you and it blew up my whole life, Mac. I fell for you. It’s been the best six months of my life.”

Some of the hardest months too. All of which she’s endured with me. Despite me. I’ve thrown more shit at this girl than she had any reason to withstand, and still she found her way to love me regardless. Of course I was gonna mess that up. How could I ever think otherwise?

But holy fucking shit, it hurts worse than I ever could’ve imagined, the thought of losing Mackenzie. My heart feels like it’s being crushed in a vise.

“And, yeah, I should have come clean a long time ago. But goddamn it, okay, I was scared.” My throat starts closing in on me, cutting off my airway. I suck in a ragged breath. “I was scared of this moment right here. I made a terrible mistake, and I thought if you didn’t find out, it wouldn’t hurt you. I wanted to protect you.”

“You humiliated me,” she spits out through tears and rage. I want to throw my arms around her and take her pain away, but I’m the one doing this to her, and every second she levels me with that look of devastation rips me apart. “You made me look like an idiot.”

“Please, Mac. I’ll do anything.” I grab her hands, squeezing when she tries to turn away. Because I know the second she takes that first step, she’s gonna keep walking forever. “I love you. Let me prove it. Give me a chance.”

“You had a chance.” Tears stream down her cheeks. “You could have told me the truth months ago. You had a million opportunities, including the day I asked you point-blank if you knew Preston, if he got you fired. But you didn’t tell me the truth. Instead you let everyone laugh at me behind my back.” Mac pulls her hands from mine to wipe her eyes. “I might have been able to forgive you for everything else if you hadn’t lied right to my face. Got to hand it to you, Cooper. You did it so well. And then you got everyone I thought was my friend to lie too. Put me in this perfect little glass house of bullshit for your own amusement.”

“Mackenzie.” I’m grasping at a rope as it’s sliding through my fingers. With every breath I take, she’s slipping further away. “Let me fix it.”

“There’s nothing left to fix.” Her expression flattens to an eerie dullness. “I’m going into the house and I’m packing up my stuff and I’m leaving. Because that’s the only thing left for me to do. Don’t try to stop me.”

Then she turns her back and disappears beyond the glow of the fire.

There’s silence in her wake.

“Forget what she said,” Evan blurts out, shoving my shoulder. “Go after her.”

I stare out at nothingness. “She doesn’t want me to.”

I know Mac well enough to see when she’s made up her mind. Anything I do now will only chase her off faster, hardening the hatred. Because she’s right. I was a shit person when I met her.

Nothing I’ve done since has proven different.

“Then I’ll go,” Evan growls, throwing off my attempt to stop him.

Whatever. He won’t succeed in changing her mind. She’s leaving.

She’s gone.

Everyone else slowly wanders away until I’m left alone on the beach. I sink down to the sand. I sit there for I don’t know how long—so long the bonfire is reduced to cold embers. Evan doesn’t return. No point telling me what I already know. The sun peeks above the waves by the time I trudge back to the house through the remnants of the aborted party.

Daisy doesn’t come running to be let out when I walk inside. Her water bowl isn’t in the kitchen.

Half the closet is empty in my room.

I throw myself on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. I feel numb. Empty.

I wish I’d known then how hard it would be now to miss Mackenzie Cabot.