Page 10 of Faking With You

I grab them for her, not letting them go until she meets my eyes and answers my question.

She slowly licks her lips, and my eyes follow the movement. I fight the urge to reach up and follow the same path with my thumb.

“I liked it,” she finally whispers, breaking me from my trance of staring at her mouth.

My lips pull at the corner. “I’m glad.”

I let go of her keys, and she turns back to her door, unlocking it and stepping just inside.

“Thank you for tonight,” she says.

“My pleasure.” I lean in just enough to brush my lips against her cheek and whisper, “Good night.”

She whispers back and closes the door ,and I can’t help but smile as I head back to my car and drive home.

CHAPTER 8

Eliza

Iwas surprised when Mac texted me the morning after our date. It was a simple good morning text, but something about it had me smiling as I cuddled deeper into my bed. I’m meeting the girls at the rink later to watch the guys’ game but have zero plans before then. I curl up with a book, wanting to stay in bed as long as possible. When my stomach growls twice in five minutes, I decide to finally get up and make some food, groaning to myself when I take in the state of my kitchen. I force myself to do a quick clean-up as I whip something together and settle on my couch, pulling up a comfort watch as I eat.

On days when I have evening plans, I like to do nothing during the day, always worried my social battery will run out too quickly if I do too much before my plans. Curled up on my couch, the TV plays in the background as I scroll various social media platforms, sending random videos back and forth with the girls.

When it’s finally time for me to get ready for the game, I stare at my closet, unsure of what to wear. I’ve never questioned this in the past. I’ve put on something I know I’ll be comfortable in and walk out the door. But after agreeing to this arrangementwith Mac, I’m now in my head. I’ve never been someone who has worked to try to impress a guy, and I’m not even sure that it’s that I want to impress Mac. He obviously has some sort of interest in me because he asked for my help with this plan. It’s more like I want to be...worthy of being on his arm.

I shake my head, trying to fling that ridiculous thought out of it. I know deep down that I don’t have to do anything to be worthy of a man, but that small little voice that’s grabbed words and opinions from every single outside source that says shit likehe could do betterorI can’t believe he’s with herwhen they talk about couples is worming its way into my brain, and I hate it.

I finally settle on a pair of dark skinny jeans, knee-high boots, and a T-shirt with a warm sweater. I play with my hair in the washroom mirror before finally saying fuck it and brushing it back into a ponytail. I sigh deeply, grabbing my purse and heading out.

The girls are already at the rink when I arrive, and I join them on the bleachers, smiling and making faces at Liv’s baby girl Cate and Matt’s son Jayden, who is currently being worn by Zoey.

As Bailey is telling us about her getting ready to welcome her and Caleb’s new baby, Mac walks up to us and conversation immediately stops as all eyes turn to him and the bouquet in his hands. Without missing a beat, he stops in front of me and leans down to place a chaste kiss on my cheek. As my cheeks heat, I hear a sharp intake of breath beside me quickly covered by Mac’s whispered words, “These are for you.”

He hands me the bouquet without another word turns and heads towards the dressing room. I bury my nose in the flowers, doing everything to ignore my friends for as long as possible. The second I remove my face and look at them, questions are flying my way.

“When?”

“How?”

“Okay, girl.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

The questions are overwhelming, and I’m not even sure what to say. Do I just come out and sayOh yeah, by the way, I’m dating Mac? He made it clear that no one can know that anything about us is fake, but I’m not sure how I’m supposed to lie to my best friends about this.

“Ummm....” I start, trying to find the right words. “He kind of asked me out after the last game,” I settle on.

Hannah’s the first to say something. “And you didn’t tell us?”

I shrug. “It was a date.”

Hannah nods. “Yes, and when was the last date you went on?”

She knows the answer to the question. I told her about my last disastrous date that was almost a year ago. Between that and the last dick I met online who ended up ghosting me, I’ve kind of sworn off dating for the last year.

“It’s nothing,” I say, trying to get them to move on, but I should know better. There’s no taking the bone away from my friends once they get their mouths on it.

“No. Nope. Nuh-uh. You’re not getting away from this,” Liv says.