“Unless the award is a chocolate cupcake that is delivered to my mouth in the next five minutes, I don’t care.”

He snorts, but a ghost of a smile is in his eyes. “Sorry, I award red velvet.”

“Pfft. Be gone with you, then.” I wave him off, knowing he isn’t so easily dismissed but finding small gratification in teasing him.

As predicted, Macon doesn’t move but rests a hand on his hip and peers at me from under the dark fan of his lashes. All the humor bleeds out of his expression, and I find myself frowning. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s hesitating. The moment pulls tighter between us, and he lets out a breath, squeezing the back of his neck with one hand. It is unfair how good that makes his bunching biceps look.

“Take the whole day, then,” he finally says. “I’m going out tonight.”

The way he says it has my hackles rising. I shouldn’t care; he can go wherever he wants. But there’s something almost guilt laden about the way he looks at me. Why would he be guilty?

“Okay,” I say, drawing the word out. “Have fun.”

His lips press together as if he’s fighting some internal battle, but then his chin rises. “If I’m not back for breakfast, I’ll text.”

Ah. That’s why. My stomach does a weird, sick lurch. He’s going on a date. It should be expected; while I might call him an asshat, there’s no denying he’s gorgeous. Hell, he’s famous. That right there would get him laid even if he needed to wear a bag over his head and had chronic halitosis.

Shit, I’m too quiet. I shrug my shoulder as if it doesn’t weigh a ton. “Kind of you to let me know.”

His expression turns stony, and I find myself replaying my words. Was I too flippant? Not enough? Whatever the case, I clearly didn’t convince him that I am unmoved. And that is not okay. It’s a struggle to play off tired grumpiness when a lump of inconvenient and unwanted jealousy sits heavy on my chest. But I try. “Is that all? Because the ibuprofen is kicking in, and I’m getting sleepy again.”

Macon’s nostrils flare with an indrawn breath, but he gives me a bland look. “Nope. That’s it. See you tomorrow, sleeping beauty.”

Tomorrow? As if it is now a sure thing that he isn’t going to come home. As soon as he leaves, shutting the door quietly behind him, I pull the covers over my head and curse my damn raging hormones. I miss him as soon as he’s out of sight. Damn that too.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Delilah