Page 27 of Faking With You

“Mac?”

Eliza’s voice breaks me from my train of thought, and I smile down at her.

“Pardon?”

“Josh was asking you a question.”

I turn to him, and he asks, “I was wondering if you wanted to join us for the Cyclones game next Saturday. We’re all watching it from a box.”

“Oh, yeah. That sounds great.”

The guys have never invited me to something like that before, and I’m beginning to realize that even though I’ve played on this team for years, I’ve never been a part of the team. I’ve kept myself on the edges of it.

I look down at Eliza as she continues talking with her friends, and I know I owe this change to her. Without thinking, I lean over and kiss the top of her head. She smiles at me, sending ajolt through my body. She doesn’t realize the impact she’s having on me, and I’m torn between letting her know and keeping it to myself.

CHAPTER 21

Eliza

Ishould be questioning how normal it feels to have Mac join my friends and me for dinner after a game, but I don’t. Instead my anxiety lies with the fact that I have a packed overnight bag in my car with every intention of going to Mac’s tonight and needing it. I’ve never thought about staying over at a man’s place before. I’ve never felt comfortable or safe enough for it to even be a thought that crossed my mind, but the little things Mac does makes that worry completely disappear.

After we say goodbye to everyone, Mac slips his hand in mine and I follow him outside. The closer we get to my car, the more my mixed anxiety and excitement rush to the surface. Now is make or break. Do I actually go to Mac’s, or do I chicken out and head home? I take a deep breath and tell myself,This is exactly what you wanted. You wanted to break the box you’ve been living in and take charge of your life.

“I’ll see you at my place?” he asks as we finally reach the cars.

“Yeah.”

A grin spreads across his face, and he opens my door for me. ”Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

I blush and shake my head as I get into my car and follow him.

As we step into Mac’s apartment, he slides my bag off my shoulder and disappears into his room, calling, “Make yourself at home,” over his shoulder. I slip out of my shoes and pad over to his couch, slipping under a blanket, the weight of it calming me slightly.

Mac comes out a few moments later, and I pull my legs closer, but once he sits beside me, he lifts them by my ankles and drapes them over his legs. He silently turns the TV on and hands me the remote. I smile at him and scroll through the movie options. When I finally settle on an option, I relax back into the couch. The moan that leaves me as Mac runs his thumb up the instep of my foot has me immediately blushing and biting my lip. It only encourages him, and he repeats the motion.

Holy hell. I’ve never had my feet massaged before, and the way that Mac is doing it right now is pure fucking bliss. I drop my head back, forgetting the movie as I allow the relaxed feeling to overtake my entire body. Wearing heels five days a week kills my feet. The office doesn’t require them, but something feels weird when I don’t wear them, like I’m underdressed. I can’t remember the last time my feet have felt this kind of tension release.

I feel taken care of right now. A feeling I haven’t had in a long time. I love my parents, but they weren’t warm and fuzzy growing up, they were pragmatists who made sure I had everything I needed and grew up healthy. We didn’t curl up on the couch for family movie nights or build forts in our living room. We did educational activities and exercise or outdooractivities. Right now, I feel as though my comfort is the main priority.

The longer Mac works his thumb into the bottom of my foot, the more I find myself dozing off. I’m on the cusp of sleep when he runs the back of his fingers over my cheek and whispers my name.

I hum in response and hear his slight chuckle as he adjusts himself, I think to face me more.

“Eliza, you should get ready for bed.”

I nuzzle into the couch cushion, and he tucks my hair behind my ear. My lips pull up at the corners without thought.

He slides out from under my legs, and then seconds later I’m being lifted. My eyes fly open as my arms immediately wrap around his neck.

“Now you’re awake,” he says through his laugh.

“Yeah, I was just removed from my very comfy position on your couch.”

“You’re not sleeping out here. You’ll sleep in my bed.”

“Your bed?” I squeak, and heat fills my cheeks.

“Yes.”