Page 9 of Faking With You

Pulling back and giving her some space, I ask, “Can I take you out on Friday?”

She can’t hide her shock, but she eventually smiles and agrees. I can tell she’s itching to leave, and as much as I want more time with her, I want her to feel comfortable. She pushes her chair back and thanks me for dinner as I follow her to the front door, helping her into her jacket. I pocket my keys to follow her out, and she quirks a brow.

“I’m going to make sure you get home safe.”

“I can take an Uber,” she tries to protest, but I shake my head.

I open the door, locking up behind us. We ride the elevator to the parking garage, and she follows me to my car, where I open the passenger door for her. She whispers a thank-you as she climbs in, and I make my way to the driver side. She tells me her address, and I’m surprised to find how close she lives. The drive to her place is fifteen minutes, and it’s filled with comfortable silence. I find myself watching her out of the corner of my eye whenever I can. Her skin looks so soft in this light, and I want to reach out and touch her, to feel it beneath my fingers. I pull along the curb and jump out before she has a chance and open her door for her.

“Thank you for dinner tonight,” she says.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you on Friday for dinner.”

She nods, and I lean down, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. She blushes before hurrying to the front door of her building. I watch her enter before climbing back in the car and heading home.

Eliza tries to tell me she’ll meet me at the restaurant for our date on Friday, but I insist on picking her up. When I pull up outside her place, she’s dressed in a wine-coloured dress that hugs her every curve. Her hair is pulled back from her face and done in soft curls. As I get out to open her door, I can see she’s done her makeup in a way that has her eyes popping even behind her glasses. I lean down and kiss her cheek before opening her door and helping her in.

“You look gorgeous,” I say as we pull away from the curb.

She lightly runs her hand over her dress as she smiles and says, “Thank you.”

We make the drive in silence, the music from the radio softly playing to fill the space between us. It’s a short drive, and when we arrive, I hand the keys to the valet and place a hand on the small of Eliza’s back, guiding her inside.

I picked a restaurant I believe can afford us a little bit of privacy and intimacy. The lights are dim and conversations are hushed as people enjoy their meals. A hostess greets us and leads us to our table in the back corner. Eliza is in front of me, and I find my eyes taking in their fill of her from behind. This woman is perfection wrapped in a dress, and I wish my hands could trace every inch of her the way my eyes are right now.

When we arrive at our table, Eliza looks at me over her shoulder, and even in the dim light, I see the blush that fills her cheeks as she notices I’ve been checking her out. I pull her chair out for her, and as I help her push it in, I lean down and whisper in her ear, “Get used to my eyes being on you.”

She bites her lip as she ducks her head and tucks her hair behind her ear. I slip into my seat across from her and open the wine menu. As I browse it, I feel Eliza eyes on me and it has me sitting straighter. She sits stiffly as she browses the menu, but she occasionally looks up at me. When my eyes meet hers over the menus, she ducks her head, her eyes scanning the menu again. For someone who always seems so confident, she’s been almost shy with me. It’s a new side to her that I haven’t seen before, and it only adds to the fact there’s so much about her I don’t know.

I pick a red wine and ask Eliza if she’s okay with it before ordering a bottle. After we place our orders, I ask, “So, how did you meet the girls?”

A soft, warm smile pulls at her lips as her shoulders relax slightly. “I met Hannah in high school and Liv and Zoey in university. Once we all met, we were kind of inseparable.”

“So you’ve been friends for years.”

She nods. “Yes. They’re my best friends. What about you, how did you meet the guys and join the team?”

“I played ice hockey growing up and in university. I stopped after I graduated, but a few years ago I decided I needed to get back into it and started looking for local teams. I found a posting for a team looking for a goalie and showed up. I’ve been playing with them ever since.”

She takes a slow sip of her wine as she nods slightly. I can see the questions slowly filling her mind as she watches me. “What made you stop playing?”

“Work. I started working for my fathers company, and it took up a lot of my time. I didn’t even think about playing again, but I needed...”

“A distraction,” Eliza guesses with a soft smile, and I nod.

“Yes. Something for me to not think about work.”

“I get that.”

I raise a brow, hoping she’ll elaborate, but we’re interrupted by the delivery of our food. As we eat, I wonder what Eliza needs a distraction from and just how I might help her with that issue. Throughout our meal, I learn things like Eliza’s favourite colour, her favourite book, and her dream vacation spot. She asks me about growing up in the UK, and we fall into what seems like more of a comfortable spot with each other.

Eliza doesn’t avert her eyes when I meet them, and it feels like she’s opening up more. We share a dessert, and the more I learn about her, the more I look forward to our new arrangement. Something about being around her makes me feel lighter.

When I walk her to her door, I watch as her demeanour starts to change again. Her shoulders start to tighten and her fingers start to fidget as she begins to avoid my eyes again. I hate this, but I also know I need to ease her into all of this and her comfort will hopefully come down the road.

When she pulls her keys out of her bag, I ask, “How are you feeling about our first date?”

“Oh,” she says as she fumbles with her keys, dropping them.