Cut Too Deep (4 page)

Mac worried he would never convince her to go inside. Hadley sat silently contemplating if she had the courage. Her inquisitiveness had her leaning toward going in. She slowly breathed in and out through her nose to soothe her anxiety. Her thoughts calmed, and she surprised herself by realizing how much she wanted to go in and dance.

“Let’s do it,” Hadley shouted excitedly and exited the Honda.

Shocked by her sudden willingness, Mac swung his car door open quickly. He ran around the back of the car and looped his arm through Hadley’s before she changed her mind.

As the two friends walked, Hadley’s stomach twisted into a ball of nerves. There were a lot of people in the enormous brick building. What if she saw someone from her past? She clung to Mac for mental support.

“How did you find out about this place?”

“My roommate is a professional street dancer and DJ. He helps organize these events. I’ve wanted to ask you for a while.”

As they stepped inside the warehouse, her desire to flee grew in intensity, but her determination to see the night through kept her from bailing. Base thumped in her ears, louder than her thoughts, and she relaxed. Mac whispered to a guy standing in front of a rope blocking the entrance. The guy removed the rope, and they passed through before turning down a hall.

They went through a set of double doors into the dimly lit space. Neon lights flashed in every direction, bursting like fireworks. Pounding music vibrated the cement floor beneath their feet. The crowded room smelled of sweat and clove cigarettes. Hadley tasted the sweetness of the cloves on her lips when she licked them.

She glanced around in awe of the raw beauty and expression personified by the dancers. While the music playing sounded like typical house music, the reaction of the individual dancer transcended into something unique and untypical. Hadley found them mesmerizing to watch. Some looked to be trained dancers, technical and precise, and others, clearly not as well trained, but equally amazing. They were artists. An old warehouse floor, their canvas for the night.

To the right, a girl spun across the floor on the tips of her ballet slippers. To the left, a gathering of break-dancers caught Hadley’s eye. Two guys in the middle of a circle appeared to be engaged in a friendly competition. One of them spun on his head. As his body came to a stop, he twisted at the hips and bounced up on to his feet. He nodded at his opponent challengingly.

Music hypnotized Hadley’s body. The urge to dance took over, sending her darting through the crowd, and carving a path in search of the right spot, somewhere with enough space to maneuver across the cement floor.  She wanted to be lost to her only love—her true craft.

After finding a corner large enough with great energy, she started to dance. She stopped, remembering she hadn’t come alone and looked for Mac. He rested casually against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, smiling at her admirably.

“Please, keep going. This is why I brought you,” he shouted over the music.

“Aren’t you going to dance?”

“I will, but right now I’m enjoying the view.”

Hadley couldn’t be certain, but she thought Mac was flirting with her. She felt self-conscious as Mac’s eyes raked over her slowly, but, soon, she forgot about him and everyone else. She became one with the song as it flowed into the next, and then the next. She fell completely in love with every note as her body moved lyrically in perfect rhythm with the music. She incorporated a few other styles the way she did in her apartment, the feeling far superior to the small space in her home. Hadley soared.

Cool hands slid across Hadley’s hot skin, startling her.  In an instant, she was spun around and pulled against Mac’s chest. His warm lips pressed against hers. While her mind attempted to register what happened, Mac kissed her, urgently and passionately.

Hadley remained lost in the exhilaration dancing provided, entranced. She didn’t object to his kiss. Instead, she welcomed it, opening her mouth when Mac deepened the kiss. His tongue slowly entered her mouth and brushed against hers, joining the dance. His palm pushed into her back, drawing her close. He enjoyed the slight shudder of her small body.

Physical contact terrified Hadley, but she allowed his touch. Her arms dangled lazily at her sides as she tried to comprehend why he kissed her and why she kissed him in return. She and Mac were friends, and he her only goddamn friend, at that. One she wasn’t about to lose. Her arms finally left her side. She reached up, pushing her palms into his chest to break the kiss.

Mac smiled, his eyes smoldering.

Her voice remained calm. She fought the urge to spit anger at him.

“What the hell was that?”

He pulled her close again, his hot breath in her ear.

“That was me kissing you.”

Horrified by her friend’s passionate declaration, Hadley stepped back.

“I know what you were doing. But, why did you do it?”

He looked down, hiding his humiliation. Mac realized her earlier trembles were fear, not desire. He felt foolish for confusing the two. The back of his hand brushed across his lips, removing the kiss.

“I’m sorry. You looked beautiful dancing, and I’ve always been attracted to you. It was impulsive and…”

“Stop!” Hadley held her hand up. “Please. You don’t need to apologize, but I didn’t expect it from you.”

He frowned.

“Because we’re friends?”

“Yes…and…” She stopped herself from saying it.

What if my assumption is wrong?

She always assumed Mac was gay.

What if he isn’t?

“What?” Mac pushed. “We’re friends and?”

Heat rushed to the surface of her cheeks. She shook her head frantically.

“It’s nothing.”

He looked away briefly, and then back to her, as realization hit him. “Oh…do you think I’m gay?”

She nodded, feeling bashful, her nerves replaced with complete and utter humiliation.

“Why? Oh, come on, is it because I wax my eyebrows?”

With her head down, she shifted nervously on her feet.

Yes, because you wax your eyebrows, you live in the Village, your clothing preferences, and you’re as obsessed with Miller Genetti as I am.

Laughter exploded from Mac. He cupped her chin and lifted her head.

“I’m messing with you. I’m bi-sexual. I like men and women.”

Oh. Hadley felt rather naive for not considering he may be attracted to both sexes.

What am I supposed to say now? I don’t like either sex.

She would never have a relationship. Why bother clarifying?

Our fun night out is quickly going to shit!

If she didn’t say something, it was going to be over.

Hadley frowned and looked up timidly at her friend. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Mac laughed nervously. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I like our friendship, and I hope I didn’t ruin it.”

“You didn’t. Honestly, I haven’t been kissed like that…well…probably ever, and I enjoyed it. But, we should stick to being friends.” Mac smiled awkwardly. He didn’t want to be friends. He wanted substantially more but knew not to push. “Trust me, you don’t want to go there. You don’t know me. I’m Queen Fucking Crazy.”

Mac laughed and pulled his friend in for a tight hug. “Okay, ‘Queen Fucking Crazy’, friends it is.” Hadley hoped his agreement came with sincerity. The thought of things being weird between them made her heart ache. “You want to get out of here and grab a bite to eat?” he asked, slicing through the tension.

“Sure,” Hadley answered, smiling as a wave of relief washed over her. “We could hit Fanelli’s. It’s not too far from my apartment.

M
uch like the car ride over, silence fell between the two friends as they walked toward the glowing neon Fanelli’s sign. They agreed things wouldn’t be weird, but Hadley got the clear impression they were. Their relationship had undeniably changed. The question lingering was if their friendship would survive now that a line had been crossed.

Mac pulled the front door open, holding it, while his other hand pushed into the small of Hadley’s back, guiding her through.  The smell of grilled burgers hit Hadley’s stomach, causing her mouth to water. Between being too nervous to eat dinner and dancing, she was suddenly starving and feeling a little faint.

They searched for a seat at the long narrow bar. Hadley loved Fanelli’s. Unlike many of the trendier places to eat in SoHo, it was affordable and comfortable. With a traditional throw back style, tables were dressed with picnic décor, white and red checkered tablecloths and yellow and red plastic squeeze tubes for ketchup and mustard. Pictures of celebrities from boxers to rock stars, both old and new, adorned the walls. Mingled in with those were photos of old kegs filled with booze, representing a time when Fanelli’s operated as a speakeasy during prohibition.

Since the bar was full, the hostess sat the two of them at a small corner table, which Hadley actually preferred. She and Mac needed to talk.

A few minutes later the waitress arrived. She batted her long black lashes at Mac and set two glasses of water on the table before asking what they would like to drink. Mac smiled a big, sexy smile, and told her he would have a Bass. Hadley promptly ordered the same, annoying the waitress with her request. As the waitress walked away, Mac’s eyes stayed on her ass that nearly fell out of the bottom of her short shorts.

“Hello,” Hadley said, waving a hand in front of his face.

Mac looked up with a dreamy smile. “What?”

“Wow, Mr. Walsh! I had no idea you were such a tramp,” Hadley teased, and it made Mac laugh. He also enjoyed the pink sweeping over her cheeks, as though she might be slightly jealous of the flirtatious waitress. At least that’s what he hoped.

“I’m a single guy, Had. We’re all tramps.”

Hadley’s stomach constricted at his use of a childhood nickname she hadn’t been called since she was eight-years-old. Her hands sealed together on her lap. She rocked in the chair and breathed through her growing panic. When she lifted her eyes, she met Mac’s soft blue gaze. He observed her inquisitively, silently questioning her obvious uneasiness. She waited until her nerves subsided to say anything.

While smirking across the table, Hadley hoped her friend didn’t notice her minor meltdown and said, “You can be a tramp if you want. But that girl is no lady.”

Mac didn’t crack the slightest smile at her poorly timed Disney reference. Hadley realized how lame her joke had been. Being a child forced to run before walking meant little time to be silly and act like a child. Times like this, when Hadley chose to disguise her emotions with awkward humor, she realized how much of an effect growing up too soon had on her. Some of the mental pieces never matured past a frightened eight-year-old.

After several tense seconds, Mac asked, “Are you okay?”

Her gaze shot over his shoulder to a couple a few tables away. They held hands, lost in each other’s eyes. They were happy.

Hadley didn’t look at her friend, but answered, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Mac’s fingers found her chin. He gently tugged her face, so she had to look at him.

“Uh, whatever happened with you was definitely not
fine
.  Tell me!”

She removed his fingers with her hand.

“It’s nothing…you called me, Had.” The words barley came as bile burned the back of her throat. This was one of those triggers she worried about when she agreed to go out with him. “My dad calls me that.”
Or, he did.

Hadley lifted the glass of water and guzzled several large sips.

“I take it that’s a bad thing?” Mac asked, and she nodded. “You want to talk about it?” Hadley shrugged and looked away from him again. Mac hated her discomfort and the difficulty she had making eye contact when something bothered her. He vowed to work harder to gain her trust and be the friend she needed. “Okay, mental note, don’t call Hadley,
Had
, and don’t ask about her dad. I got it.”

She couldn’t contain her smile. Mac was quickly becoming someone she couldn’t imagine life without. He got her in a way no one ever had.

“He’s dead,” Hadley blurted out nervously. She grabbed the ketchup bottle and spun it around on the table.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mac offered kindly. His hand landed on hers, stopping her from spinning the bottle.

Hadley pulled her hand away and leaned back in the chair, her aversion to being touched worse after their kiss. She silently cursed the past that would always control her.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m not!” Acting unaffected had long been another tactic Hadley used to mask her pain, but Mac knew her too well to be duped.

Like a savior, the waitress arrived with their beers and a hummus appetizer Mac apparently ordered telepathically. He winked at the waitress, who slipped him a piece of paper. Mac glanced across the table, and Hadley rolled her eyes. The waitress took their order for burgers without ever looking at Hadley. She walked away, sashaying her curvy hips.

“Wow! She’s bold.”

Mac cocked his head to the side, grinning. “I didn’t notice.”

Hadley flung a pita chip at her friend that bounced off the side of his head.