Page 20 of Faking With You

Her hand trails from my shoulder down my arm as she steps back. “I’ll see you later.”

She joins her coworkers, and I walk back to my office.

I have a ton of files I should be reviewing when I sit back at my desk, but instead I’m browsing staff pages of every accounting firm within walking distance of both my office and the restaurant, trying to find the one that Eliza works at. She never mentioned the name of the firm, so I’m stuck looking at them all trying to figure out where she works. When I finally find the one, I write the address down and pull up a floral shop website. I find an arrangement and order them to be delivered tomorrow morning, smirking to myself as I imagine the look on her admirer's face when they’re delivered.

I do end up staying in the office late, and I’m grateful for the food that Eliza brought by. It’s just as good as the pasta she made for us. The lights for most of the office are out and it’s dark outside, the lights in the windows of the nearby towers the only thing lighting my view. I stare out the window, spinning my pen between my fingers, tapping it against the desk as I think about my time spent with Eliza. I thought six months with her would satiate my curiosity, but now I’m not sure. I’m only scraping the surface, and she only has me more intrigued than when we started this.

CHAPTER 16

Eliza

Word of my relationship has spread through the entire office by the time I arrive the next day. People are looking at me differently, and people who have never spoken to me outside of work necessities are waving at me and saying good morning.

I make my way to my small office, shove my purse in my desk drawer, and slump in my chair. The reason I organized my office the way I did is because the monitors block the view through the window to rest of the office, meaning people can’t see when I slouch like I am right now. I take a few deep breaths and sit up to check my email.

As I’m reading an email from my boss, there’s a knock on my office door. I look up, and our receptionist is standing in my doorway holding a vase with a bouquet.

She grins. “You’ve had a delivery.” She places the vase on my desk and hovers as I grab the little white card tucked in between some flowers.

Thank you for yesterday.

- Mac

I can’t help the smile that over takes my face. I stick my nose in the flowers and inhale. They’re a gorgeous arrangement, and it’s huge. There’s barely enough room on my desk beside my computer it takes up so much space.

“Thanks for bringing these in, Tiffany.”

“Are they from your boyfriend?”

I tuck the card into my purse and nod. “Yeah, they are.”

My entire body floods with heat. None of the guys I’ve gone on dates with have brought me flowers, let alone flowers this nice, and Mac bought me flowers before our first date. He has me thinking about what it would be like years down the road if we were actually dating, but I give my head a shake and return to work.

I have trouble focusing. My mind keeps wandering back to thoughts of Mac, and they either have me blushing or smiling like a fool. I know I’m going to see him tomorrow night at his game, but I’m also tempted to text him and see if he wants to have dinner tonight. I push that thought aside and manage to get through my work day.

As I’m packing up, Hannah texts me and asks if I’m free for dinner. I immediately accept, glad for a reason to distract myself tonight.

Hannah and I meet at a restaurant between both of our places. She’s already there when I arrive, and she stands and hugs me when I approach the table. As I slide into the booth across from her, she jumps right into it.

“So, how are things with Mac?”

I bite my lip trying to stop my grin, but it’s no use.

“Oh, so it’s that good.”

“It’s not what you think. We’ve just been spending time together.”

“In bed?” She waggles her brows in a way that is just so her.

I shake my head. “No, we’re not sleeping together. We’re getting to know each other before anything else.”

Her shoulders fall, and she pouts at me. “Why not? I bet you guys would have so much fun.”

I’ve started to notice my skin crawls less at the mention of sex now. It used to be at any mention of it, I would want to curl in on myself, but now it’s more of a slightly uncomfortable feeling. Mentions of my own sex life are more uncomfortable than those of my friends, but I’ve noticed my own growth around the subject.

I take a long sip of water, trying to push this feeling away. I want to be able to talk to my friends. Not because I need them to know everything, but because I love and trust them and I don’t want this feeling of unease to hit me every time the topic comes up.

“We’re taking it slow,” I say, hoping that will satiate her.