“I like you too, MacKenzie.”
Mac's smile was devastating. "Good. Because I have a question."
"Okay..."
"The team does dinner every Thursday night at O'Brien's Pub. It's kind of our thing, wings, beer, terrible sports takes from Luke." Mac's thumb traced lazy circles on her hip, and Rachel fought to focus on his words instead of that distracting touch. "Come with me this week? Meet everyone properly?"
Rachel's stomach flipped. Not in the good way.
Meeting the team. As Mac's... what? Date? Girlfriend? The girl he was seeing? In front of everyone. All his friends. His teammates. People who'd known him for years, who'd probably heard about her past by now, about—
"Rachel?" Mac's voice gentled. "What's wrong?"
"I—" She forced herself to meet his eyes. "That's a lot of people, Mac. All at once."
"It is," he agreed, not dismissing her concern. "But they already like you. Jamie thinks you're hilarious. Luke's been asking when you're coming to dinner for weeks."
"What if they're just being nice?"
"They're not." Mac's hand came up to cup her cheek. "And even if the whole team spontaneously decided to be weird, which they won't, I'd be right there. The whole time. We can have a code word. If you want to leave, just say... I don't know, 'pickle,' and I'll fake a stomach emergency."
Despite her nerves, Rachel laughed. "You'd fake food poisoning to rescue me?"
"I'd do a lot more than that." Mac's expression was serious now.
Rachel bit her lip, considering. The old Rachel, the one who'd stood at that country club a year ago, would have said no.
But Mac wasn't Brad. And this wasn't Burlington.
"Okay," she heard herself say. "Thursday. O'Brien's."
Mac's face lit up like she'd just agreed to marry him. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Deal." Mac pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her temple, then her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. "Thank you for saying yes."
"You're very persuasive." Rachel's hands slid up his chest, feeling his heart racing as fast as hers. "Must be all that charm."
"I'm very nice. Especially me. I'm very nice," Mac quoted back at her, grinning.
The library phone rang in the distance, shrill and insistent.
Rachel sighed. "That's probably for me. Duty calls."
"Go be an amazing librarian." Mac pressed one more quick kiss to her forehead before stepping back, creating space between them that felt too cold, too empty. "I'll text you later about Thursday. Six thirty?"
"Six thirty," Rachel confirmed.
Mac grabbed their trash, shot her one last smile that made her knees weak all over again, and headed for the door.
Rachel watched him go, her heart still racing, her lips still tingling.
Thursday. Team dinner. Meeting everyone.
She pressed her fingers to her mouth, trying to calm her breathing.
What had she just agreed to?
