Cold As Ice

Mackenzie

It was the hottest day of the year and only twenty-eight degrees. Still, temps like that are considered a heat wave here in Antarctica. It was a nice break from the frigidity we usually experience, but not enough to make me miss home. I’ll never go back… same as how I’ll never trust another man. Never, never, never.

It’s been nearly two years since I finalized my second divorce and fled from Florida and it’s been the best decision I’ve made. Who said running from your problems doesn’t work? And if your problems are people, what better place to run than the south pole?

There’s a smile on my face when I pull off my hood, slide out of my coat, and grab my clipboard from the table. The next group of grad students are arriving this evening and as the head research coordinator on Ross Island, it’s part of my job to ensure they are welcome and understand their assignments.

“Ms. Taylor! They’re here!”

I spin to the doors of the main station where Liz is waving me over. I really wish she’d drop the ‘miss.’ It makes me feel much older than thirty-four. When I reach her and see the group through the glass, my smile vanishes. You’ve got to be kidding me.

“What is he doing here?” I hiss, staring at the familiar bulky figure of a man with dark aviators, a darker trimmed beard, and matching black coat that I know covers sleeve tattoos.

“Who? Professor Walker?” Liz asks.

“Professor?! Lane Walker is a professor?!” He does not fit the mold in the slightest.

“Yeah. The professor I’ve been communicating with from the university for months,” Liz says. She pushes on the bar of the door to hold it open for the group and shouts in greeting as they approach.

The chill hits me but does not help drop my heated temperature. “And you failed to mention that?” I say through gritted teeth. This is not happening! I came here to remove myself from that life. Apparently, seventy-five hundred miles is not far enough.

I step back, covering my face with the clipboard, hearing the excited murmurs of biology students and swishing windbreaker material of their coats as they file in around me. I take a few deep breaths, desperate to gather my composure and slow my pulse. I would love to bury my head in the snow right now, but there’s no way to avoid this encounter.

Slowly, I ease my clipboard lower and my eyes stall on my ex-husband’s best friend.

The bastard has the audacity to grin at me. I narrow my eyes before remembering I have sixteen other students staring, waiting for directions.

I clear my throat and drop my gaze to my clip board, beginning my spiel about penguin habitats and global warming, discussing the plan for the research for the next six weeks, and finishing with where the cafeteria, lab, and dorms are located. “Liz will be initiating the tour if you’d like to follow her.”

Liz’s brows pull together. “I am?”

“You are,” I say. “I need to have a word with Professor Walker.”

When my gaze shifts to Lane and the aviators looped into the neck of his shirt and up to those hazel eyes, he winks, WINKS, at me. Unbelievable.

The group saunters off and I grab Lane’s arm, yanking him behind me through the flappy doors of the empty lab. I pivot, popping my hands on my hips and giving him my meanest glare.

“Surprised to see me, Mackenzie?” His voice is still that deep and raspy baritone it always was. He did make a great back-up singer for Jack.

“You think?” I snap. “You had better start explaining yourself.”

“Or what? You’ll run away again?”

“Lane.”

“Mac.”

When he holds eye contact a little too long, I shift my weight, feeling a hot prickle that’s not from irritation. He’s taking me in, assessing me, studying my features and noting what’s physically changed in the past few years. Well, not much buddy so quit with the gazing.

He sighs. I hope he’s grasping how frustrated I am by this impromptu visit.

I tuck a stray chestnut strand of hair behind my ear. “Since when do they let drummers become professors?” I ask.

“Since I got a Ph.D. in Marine Biology.”

“Oh,” I say, trying my best not to sound impressed. I knew we always had that in common, but I didn’t realize teaching was on the radar for Lane. I guess a lot of things there changed after the band called it quits. After Jack and I called it quits.

He leans toward me, whispering, “Chicks dig drummers more than professors though, if you’re curious.”

“I’m not,” I snap.

He cocks his head to the side, all sanctimonious, and says, “Not even a little bit?”

“Why are you here, Lane?” I sound exhausted.

“I…” he runs a hand across his mouth and the scruff of his jaw and there’s a sad, wistful glimmer in his eyes. “I didn’t know how to get ahold of you and… I needed to see you in person.”

That puppy dog look shouldn’t have me softening, but it does… just a smidge. I try not to let it reflect in my voice, though. He’s a big part of the reason my life crumbled after all. “Well, you saw me. And now you can leave.”

I start past him, but he hooks my elbow. His touch sends a foreign tingle scurrying under my skin. There used to be this thing, this feeling when it came to Lane. A sparking tether alongside a natural comfort. I denied it, keeping him appropriately in the friend zone while I was with Jack, but right now, I can’t deny that it still exists.

“Mac,” Lane says softly. “I’m so sorry. It took me over two years to get to you. Can you please forgive me?”

“You were supposed to be my friend, Lane. And you kept Jack’s affairs from me. You knew. Only after I found out you came clean?”

“It destroyed my friendship with Jack and tore apart the band. Which is what I was afraid of!” He huffs, gaining control. “But mostly, I was afraid of losing you. At least when you were with Jack, I had you in my corner.”

I swallow hard, realizing how very close we’re standing. I feel the heat radiating from his unzipped coat and a part of me wants to wrap my arms around his waist and press into him, hear his heartbeat. I’ve missed you in my corner, too.

“I should have never let you marry Jack. And for that, I’m sorry.” He finally releases my arm. “That’s why I’m here. To apologize, but I’ll make up an excuse and leave, if you want me to.”

My shoulders rise and fall with my breath while I consider. I can understand the moral dilemma he was in. Betray Jack and lose more than one friendship or lie to protect me from the hurt? “We have research to do. So, let’s focus on that.” This is about the penguins, and I could use the help, but also, I’m not ready for him to leave after saying something like that.

I turn away, but just before I push through the doors, I hear him mutter, “It should have been me, you know.”

And those are the only words I think about for the next three days.

Is he right? If Jack hadn’t interrupted us that first night we met at the bar, would it have been Lane at the altar? We’ll never know because I fell for the clean-cut lead singer that seduced me and every other woman in the place. The memories of Jack taste like copper in my mouth.

Because of those, I’ve tried to avoid being alone with Lane, which has proven to be impossible considering the quaint size of the station and because we are working side-by-side on this study. And yeah, he’s intelligent and helpful and it’s been fun to be around an old friend, but his sneaky glances in my direction are distracting, making the hair stand at the nape of my neck while I photograph two penguins on the ice. He should have returned to base with the students this evening, but as soon as I pulled out my camera, he stalled.

“I love that they mate for life.”

I’ve always been able to feel his presence in a room, but more so now that we’re alone in the giant vast of white wilderness shimmering in the setting sun.

“Me too,” I say quietly, snapping a few more.

“Mac,” he says, stepping in front of my lens.

Seeing him from this perspective is a glowing reminder of how attractive he is. He nudges my camera from my face and rubs the open tip of his gloved thumb across my cheek.

I whisper, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to win you over. I’ve been trying to win you over for days.” He leans into me, looping an arm around my waist. I can feel the warmth of his exhale. “Is it working?”

“I can’t do this with you, Lane.”

“Why not?”

He’s breaking into my space again. And I hate that it feels so good. “Because… too much has happened. I came here for a fresh start.”

“You came here to hide from the shame and embarrassment and paparazzi. There are a few hundred people on this slab. A fresh start at a relationship isn’t happing on this frozen tundra… unless it’s with me. Have a fresh start with me, Mac.”

“Lane…” He’s inches from my lips and I want to push him away and pull him in at the same time.

"Please,” he says. “I didn't know how to tell you this before, but I would give up everything to be with you. I never wanted to just be your friend, Mackenzie, and now that it’s okay to be more, that’s all I want.”

He’s shifting closer, and closer, and closer yet, closing the gap between us. When his mouth meets mine, my camera clatters to the ice. Heated passion consumes me, and I melt, kissing him back, moving my lips in a perfect rhythm with his. It’s in this moment that I realize he’s right. It should have been him. He’s never been just a friend.

But it’s too late and he’s broken my trust once before. I’ve already made up my mind. It’s better to not love at all, than to love and lose.

My fingers trail from his neckline down to his chest, where I wedge them between us and create the distance I need.

“I can’t do this,” I mumble.

The line of his beanie bumps mine as he tilts his forehead. “I know you feel what I always have. Don’t run away from this.”

“Run away?” I take a step, bending to grab my camera. “You’re the one who needs to leave, not me.”

“Mac, come on.”

“Lane,” I point an index finger at him. I can’t handle another heartbreak. “Don’t tell me how I feel. I need you to go,” I say and turn to walk away.

“You don’t want to be alone forever. I know you don’t!” he yells after me.

“That’s all I want, Lane. Leave. Me. Alone.”

Then why do I feel so empty?

***

The hollowness is still present the next morning, and the next. It solidifies like a rock, rotting in my stomach when I see Lane out the window of my room, hauling his pack toward the helicopter. I don’t know what he had to say to leave his students here, but whatever it was worked, because there he goes. I’m awful for pushing him away and, damn if it doesn’t hurt to watch. I didn’t want him here and now I hate that he’s leaving. I brush my fingers to my lips, the ghostly memory of his alive there.

There’s a knock at my door and when I reply with ‘it’s open,’ Liz says, “Do you want to say goodbye?”

I shake my head. “Not necessary.”

There’s a touch at my shoulder. “I saw how he looked at you,” she says. “What’s the story?”

“There isn’t one,” I reply, turning away from the window.

“Ms. Taylor, if it’s not too bold to say, I haven’t seen you this grumpy since you lost the footage of the chicks.”

I glare at Liz and move towards the door. I’m not grumpy. I’m something else… wildly depressed and miserably disappointed.

“Do you know why I love penguins, Ms. Taylor?” Liz asks, trailing me. When I don’t reply, she follows me down the hall and continues her speech. “They’re the most romantic creatures and can sense their mates before they ever see them. The male sacrifices and they’ll travel miles, trusting their mate will be there when they return. It’s a bond, and like trust and love. You know it’s there, even if you can’t physically see it.”

I pause at the doors to the cafeteria. “What’s your point here, Liz?”

“Professor Walker is clearly your mate.”

I blink at her, feeling a knowing sensation creep through my chest.

“He told me the only reason he got a Ph.D. and traveled thousands of miles is for you.”

My mouth opens, but no words come out.

Liz continues, “And I think deep down, you already knew.”

“I…” Spinning from the doors of the cafeteria, I look down to the main entrance. Your mate.

“Take my coat,” she says, shrugging out of it. “Go after him.”

I stare at the jacket in her hands for a moment.

“GO!” she says, “Get your penguin!”

“Oh God, Liz,” I say, snatching her coat. “That sounds ridiculous.”

Her giddy laugh echoes through the hall as I run toward the door. I burst through just in time to watch the chopper blades disappear along the horizon.

Just as I’ve asked, he’s gone.

Lane

Five weeks. It’s been five long weeks since I’ve last seen Mac. I don’t know why this time feels so much more permanent. I suppose it’s because before I had a plan to chase after her, but now that I know how she feels, I’ll respect her wishes and leave her alone. It was asinine of me to go to Antarctica in the first place, to believe I could finally have her to myself.

A throat clears and my gaze snaps to the doorway of my office. I blink… blink…blink not believing it’s actually her. I’m goddamn hallucinating because Mackenzie can’t be here, in Florida, on campus, in a sundress, hands pinned behind her back, looking nothing like an Eskimo and everything like a summer goddess.

“Surprised to see me, Lane?” Mac asks with a coy grin on her beautiful face.

“I…” I push out of my chair and step around my desk. A memory pricks at my mind and my mouth tightens as I move. “You had better start explaining yourself,” I mock.

“My how the tables have turned.” She laughs, meeting me in the center of my office.

I reach to touch her cheek but, unsure of where we stand, resist the urge.

A flash of hurt crosses her expression. She lifts my hand and kisses my palm and then stares at our fingers while she intertwines them. I am elated that she’s here, yet utterly confused, but oh so damn hopeful by her actions.

“You came back,” I say.

“I never thought I would,” she sighs, meeting my eyes. Hers are pools of emerald and affection and I search them for answers.

“I didn’t either,” I say. “Why did you?” Please tell me that you changed your mind.

“I learned something recently,” she says. “Just because there’s distance doesn’t mean you stop feeling.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask. My heart threatens to beat out of my chest. “Where did you learn that from?”

“Penguins… well, and Liz.”

I laugh. I knew I liked Liz.

“And I came to tell you that you we’re right. I was hiding. And I was hiding because I was scared. And then you kissed me and things changed between us, and I’m still scared. Of getting hurt again.”

“I never want to hurt you,” I whisper.

“I know. Which is why I want to try that fresh start with you. If you’ll still have me?”

I stare at her for a moment, at the way she shyly smiles with that dimple, the way her dark lashes curl, that button nose.

“Well?” she asks “Will you? Have me?”

“You trust me to?”

“I understand now that Jack and I trapped you into a cage. Of course I trust you, Lane, and,” the delicate part of her throat shudders with her swallow, “I want you.”

That’s it, that’s what has my heart bursting and my arms swooping under her thighs. She yelps as I lift and spin us in a circle. “I will have you ever day for eternity, Mackenzie Taylor.”

I let her slide down my chest, pressing soft kisses into her hair, then her temple.

“I’m so sorry I pushed you away,” she says, hands resting on my chest. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve been missing you since the day I met you,” I say.

“Well, then I guess it’s time to stop,” she says, tilting her chin to me and pressing warm, plump lips to mine. She giggles as she pulls back and says, “Funny, even in the most frozen place on the planet, you we’re able to melt my icy heart.”

“You’re not as cold as you think you are.”

“Apparently not,” she sighs, resting her head against my chest.

Exactly as I’ve imagined for years, I hold her tight against me, my body flooding with passion, and love, and heat. Mine, she’s all mine.

Mark this day on your calendar, folks. It’s the hottest day of the year.