Page 23 of Faking With You

“I don’t think so. It’s so busy and it’s really just a greeting card holiday, but I also realize it would be weird if we’re actually dating for us to not do anything.”

I sit on my couch, relieved to actually have her answer on the matter.

“Then why don’t we do something in. I can come to yours, or you can come to my flat.”

“That would be nice.” I can hear the smile in her voice.

With that answered, I’m not ready to stop hearing her voice so I ask, “How are you?”

“I’m good. Tired. The girls seemed to have more questions for me.”

I chuckle. “So it wasn’t just me then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Matt had questions the second we got back into the change room.”

“I swear he loves gossip more than a teenage girl,” she says through a laugh.

“I was thinking the same thing. He seems to need to know everything that’s happening with everyone.”

She laughs. “Nail on the head.”

I spot the clock and notice just how late it is and reluctantly say, “I guess I should let you sleep. It’s late.”

She yawns as if agreeing with me, and I hear a shuffling sound. She’s probably in bed, and I might have woken her up. I immediately feel like shit.

“Good night,” she says.

“Good night. Sleep well.”

CHAPTER 18

Mac

Between life and work, Eliza and I don’t see each other for two weeks. We text, but we don’t have any time to spend with one another. She can’t make it to our games because of work, and when she’s free it’s me who’s stuck at the office.

I wanted to do tonight at my place so I could cook for her. Her entire demeanour when I cooked the last time she was over had me wanting to make sure I did it again. I decided to pick something easy to make so I could get as much time with Eliza as possible. I didn’t want to waste any time in the kitchen cooking when I could be with her.

I set up candles and light them, wanting to set the mood. I want it to be soft and welcoming tonight. I want her to be completely at ease.

When she arrives, I take her jacket as she takes everything in. I watch as her eyes bounce around, finding all the candles as she listens to the soft music playing. I lead her to the dining table, pull her chair out, and pour her a glass of wine before heading into the kitchen and grabbing our plates. As I set one down infront of her, she places her hand on mine and I stop and find her eyes.

“Hey,” she whispers.

I grin. “Hi.” I kiss her cheek and take my seat, laying my napkin over my lap and take her hand, my thumb tracing her knuckles.

“How are you?”

“Exhausted, but better now.”

“Glad to hear that.”

I stroke my thumb over the back of her hand.

“Thank you for making dinner.”

I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss the back of it. “Thank you for coming.”