"You okay?" Mac asked, noticing her standing frozen by the counter.
"Yeah. Only..." Rachel wrapped her arms around herself. "Last night was a lot."
"The Derek stuff?"
"No. I mean, yes, but also..." She took a breath. "I'venever let anyone see me like that before. Vulnerable. Publicly. With Brad, I was always performing. Trying to be what he wanted. With you, I can't hide."
Mac set down the French press and crossed to her. "Is that a bad thing?"
"I don't know." Rachel's voice cracked. "What if you see the real me and decide I'm too much? Too broken."
"Hey." Mac cupped her face. "Rachel, the real you is who I fell in love with. The messy, scared, brave, brilliant real you. I don't want a performance. I want this."
"I don't know how to do this without armor."
"Then we figure it out together. No armor required." Mac kissed her forehead. "Now. Coffee. Because I genuinely don't understand how this French press works and I need your help."
Rachel laughed, a wet, shaky laugh. "You add the grounds first."
"See? I need you. For coffee-related reasons and also all the other reasons."
They settled on the couch with their coffee, Mr. Darcy claiming Rachel's lap.
"So," Mac said, his tone shifting to something more serious. "I've been thinking."
"About?"
"About me staying here. Or you at my place. Permanently."
"Mac, it’s too soon."
"Hear me out." Mac set down his coffee mug, turning to face her fully. "Rachel, I know it's fast. We've been together for less than two months. But look at what’s happening. Derek is escalating. He’s watching the team. Watching you."
He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.
"I hate dropping you off at your apartment at night," he admitted, his voice low. "Now I will hate driving away knowing you're alone in that building with a flimsy lock while that guy is in town. I won't sleep until I know you're safe."
A shiver ran down her spine. She’d been trying to ignore that fear, but Mac was naming it.
"I want you to move in with me, Rachel," Mac continued. "Yes, because I love you and I want to wake up with you. But mostly? I want you behind a deadbolt I can check. I want to know you're safe. Move in with me, please? At least until this blows over. But... hopefully forever."
Tears pricked her eyes. It wasn't just romance. It was protection. And God, she was tired of being brave alone.
"You really want me to move in?"
"More than anything."
"Okay," Rachel said, the word slipping out before her fear could stop it.
Mac's face split into that wide boyish smile that made him look like a kid on Christmas morning. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Mac kissed her, deep and thorough and full of promise. When they pulled apart, both slightly breathless, he was grinning so widely it looked like his face might split.
"We're moving in together," Mac said, like he was testing out the words. "Your place or my place?"
"Your apartment's bigger," Rachel said with a small smile.
