“I’m proud you have a kettle!” she says. “I heard Americans don’t usually have them.”
“Of course I have a kettle, Mum. I knew you would visit one day.”
She beams at me, and I grin back. I haven’t been this happy for a long time.
Mackenzie slides off of his stool. “I’ll go clear my things out of the guest room.”
Panic sets in. My house is a good size but I’ve used all the rooms for other things. Gym. Office. Meditation Room. Having only one guest room always seemed fine before. My mind scrambles for options. The sofa is comfy, but downstairs is all open plan. There would be no privacy if someone needed a glass of water in the night.
“Um…” I swallow uncomfortably. “You okay to bunk in with me?”
He smiles softly. He has been living here long enough to know the layout of the house, so I guess he is not surprised.
“Sure,” he replies easily, without hesitation. As if he has no qualms about it at all.
I watch him walk away. I’m completely thunderstruck. Well, if he doesn’t mind, I certainly don’t.
“Your boyfriend is lovely,” says Mum. “And so gorgeous!”
“Of course he is gorgeous,” I mutter distractedly. “He is Mackenzie Jones.”
“I did love him in that Christmas film,” she says.
“And he is not my boyfriend! I told you we are just fake dating for the show,” I belatedly clarify.
She narrows her eyes at me and puts her hands on her hips. “Pish! I wasn’t born yesterday! I can see the way you look at each other.”
I stare at her, partly aghast, partly more ecstatic than I’ve ever been in my life. Mum is a great judge of character and very perceptive. I’m well aware I stare at him adoringly, like he is the best thing since sliced bread. It’s not surprising she saw it, but If she thinks Mackenzie is looking at me ‘like that’, she is probably right.
It’s the best news ever.
She gives me her knowing smile and turns back to her cooking. My gaze drifts to the ceiling, as if I think I suddenly have x-ray vision and I’ll be able to see him. Mackenzie is going to be sleeping in my bed tonight, with me. He likes me ‘like that’. It’s wonderful. It’s terrifying. How on earth am I going to control myself? It’s a daunting prospect. Despite my fears, I realize that I’m grinning. I can’t wait for tonight.
Chapter twenty-five
Kit
I’veneverbeennervousin my own bedroom before and I can’t say I’m a fan of the experience. Not that sitting in bed, pretending to read a book while Mackenzie is in the shower, is any reason to be scared. But that doesn’t seem to be preventing me.
I am just working myself up into a right state when, out of the corner of my eye, I see Mackenzie stepping out of the ensuite while towel drying his hair. There is a lot of creamy pale skin in my peripheral vision, so I know he is not wearing much, but when I turn my head to look at him properly, my mind implodes. He is only wearing a skimpy piece of… underwear? Lingerie? Panties? I have no idea what the right name is, but it’s pink, silky and leaves nothing to the imagination.
“Oh sorry. I always sleep in this, it’s comfy. Do you want me to change?”
I stare into his blue eyes. He looks completely innocent. Utterly guileless. But I know, I know he is doing it on purpose. He is trying to kill me.
I open and close my mouth several times but it’s no good. I’ve thoroughly lost the ability to speak. It’s a damn good thing the duvet is over my lap because my cock has sprung straight to attention. I’m also about to drown in my own drool. No one, absolutely no one should be this ridiculously hot. It’s criminal.
Belatedly, I realize he is still waiting for an answer.
“It’s fine,” I manage to wheeze.
Something like a smirk flashes across his angelic face before his expression returns to innocence. He chucks the towel in the laundry basket and prowls towards me. I swallow. The bed, he is prowling towards the bed, I remind myself. Because we are sharing it in a completely platonic manner.
He slides in and suddenly he is right there, beside me. All I have to do is reach out and I will be touching him. The effort of resisting makes my arms tremble. Carefully I place the bookmark in the book I didn’t read at all. Then I place it on the bedside table.
“Alexa, turn bedroom light off,” I say.
The darkness does nothing to save me. Every inch of me is still hyper aware that he is right there. I can sense his presence. I can smell the appley scent of whatever he used in the shower. I can hear his breathing. I can even feel the heat emanating from his body.
