Page 17 of Faking With You

When she goes to sit on the other end, I grab her hand, stopping her. “I saidjoinme.” The smile I offer her as I give her arm a slight pull has some of the previous confusion falling off her face. She grabs the remote and sits beside me on the couch.

She flips through the different options, and I don’t pay attention, too focused on watching her and how she spins her hair around her finger while chewing on the edge of her lip. I can tell when something catches her interest by the way her eyebrow will twitch.

She eventually turns to look at me, surprise filling her eyes when she finds me already looking right back at her. “A rom-com okay with you?” she asks, her voice coming out a mix of breathy and a whisper.

I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, and the sound of her sharp intake of breath fills the room. “Whatever you want to watch.”

She nods and quickly faces the TV, pressing play. I manage to make it fifteen minutes before my arm is over the back of the couch and my fingers are brushing against her shoulder. She flinches briefly at the initial touch before she’s relaxing, and Iswear I hear a little hum in her throat. When my index finger presses into her skin on the outside of her arm, she leans into me. With her pressed against my side, it feels as though she’s holding her breath. Her eyes remain fixed on the TV as she watches the movie.

My fingers continue making a path across her arm and when her eyes flutter shut even for a brief moment, I’m not sure just how much of the movie she’s actually watching. I have zero clue what’s happening in the movie.

At one point, Eliza turns and looks up at me, her eyes bouncing between mine and my lips. I slowly lean closer to her, and when she doesn’t pull away, I place a light kiss on her lips. It takes everything within me to not shove my hand in her hair and claim her mouth. When I start to pull back, she chases me, kissing me with more determination this time. I let her take control to start. She’s not as tentative as she was yesterday, but I can tell she’s holding something back.

When a little moan rips from her, my hand finds its way to her chin, holding her close as I start to take control. The movie is forgotten by both of us as we make out on the couch. My hand finds the side of her thigh, and she takes that as permission to straddle my lap. A strangled groan leaves me as she settles, and my hands move slowly up her thighs and settle on her hips.

I told myself I was going to take this slow with Eliza. As much as my part of this deal was to help her with her manifestation, I’m not going to just jump into it as though it’s not a big deal. My dick might be saying something else, but my brain is very much still set on the plan.

We break the kiss, and her eyes stay closed as she rests her forehead against mine, our breaths mingling as we both pant. My thumbs stroke her hips through the fabric of her dress, and my mind wanders to thoughts of what she’s wearing under her practical dress.

When she opens her eyes and they meet mine, I can see the question in them.

I lightly press my lips to hers and say, “We’re not going any further than this tonight.” Relief and disappointment mix in her expression, and I run my thumb over her cheek. “As much as I’d love to, and believe me I would, this is a big deal and I’m going to treat it with respect. We’ll get there when you’re fully ready.”

She stares at me, her eyes slowly tracing across my face, and instead of saying anything, she dusts her lips over mine before removing herself from my lap. She doesn’t go far, though. She tucks herself into my side and offers me a soft smile before watching the movie again.

CHAPTER 14

Eliza

Idon’t know how Mac did it, but he somehow without trying managed to calm all my nerves. My stomach was in so many knots when I opened the door that I was surprised I hadn’t puked, but within minutes of him arriving, those knots slowly undid themselves and I was able to relax. I found myself at ease in a way I’ve never experienced with a man, so much so that I ended up crawling into his lap to make out.

When he told me that we weren’t taking this any further tonight, I was disappointed, but also relieved. As much as I want to sleep with Mac, I’m not sure if I’d enjoy it as much with me rushing into it and forcing it. As it is, it’s part of some agreement that we’ve come to rather than being in a serious and committed relationship.

His speech made me feel taken care of and like he’s putting my needs above his own even if I don’t know exactly what those are.

We’re quiet as the movie continues to play. Leaned into his side, I’m enveloped by the smell of him. I can smell his cologne but also traces of what I think are just him. It takes strength notto turn and bury my nose in his side and inhale. I’m so relaxed, though, that I fall asleep before the movie ends. When I finally wake up, I’m still curled into his side, but I have a blanket pulled over me in a way that I can tell he did it without moving me and he’s scrolling on his phone.

I rub my eyes and sit up, working to gather my bearings. “I’m sorry I fell asleep,” I say.

He shakes his head and locks his phone. “It’s not a problem. You must have been tired.”

Tired is an understatement. I haven’t been sleeping well the last few weeks. Even when I am tired after work, I either manage to get a second wind that has me up for hours, or when I lie in bed my brain won’t shut off and I end up tossing and turning. My nap against Mac has been the most restful sleep I’ve had in I don’t know how long.

I’m not ready for him to leave, so I quickly blurt, “Are you hungry?”

The corner of his mouth twitches, and he says, “I could eat.”

My responding smile is full-blown as I push off the couch and head to the kitchen to see what I have hidden away in my cabinets and fridge. “No allergies?” I call out.

“Just penicillin, but I doubt you’re cooking with that.”

I laugh and smile, never having heard this witty side of him before. I find all the ingredients to make pasta and get to work. Mac joins me, asking if he can help with anything, and I brush him off, telling him to have a seat. Cooking is something I love to do for people. I hate cooking for myself, but for my friends and family, it’s a whole different experience.

I put some music on softly as I move around the kitchen. When it’s finished, I fill a bowl and place it in front of Mac saying, “Bon appetit.”

I watch anxiously as he takes his first bite of food. He doesn’t say anything until he notices me watching him intently. “It’s very good.”

I sigh and dig into mine. “So, tell me about your childhood,” I say, and he raises a brow at me as he wipes his mouth with a napkin. I haven’t been very head-on in asking him a lot of questions about him or his life, but if I’m supposed to play the part of doting and devoted girlfriend I need to start learning about him.