Page 4 of Faking With You

“Six months isn’t exactly a lot of time to find someone, start a relationship, and know that it’s serious enough to bring her to your retirement party.”

“Those are the requirements, Mackenzie. Otherwise I’ll be forced to name Arthur as my successor.”

The last person I want to see become CEO is my cousin Arthur. He’s a pompous wanker who doesn’t deserve the position. I guarantee Father mentioned it just to motivate me to meet his conditions.

We end the phone call, and I stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to meet this ridiculous condition. As memories of my kiss with Eliza try to take over my brain, an idea comes to me. I never imagined I’d actually have an opportunity to kiss Eliza, she’s ten years younger than me and I never thought I’d be someone she’d go for, but now I want nothing more than to experience that kiss again and again.

When I arrive at the rink on Tuesday, the idea that came to me after my phone call with my father is still worming its way through my mind. I’m still debating if it would work when I round the corner outside our locker room. There’s a group gathered in a circle outside the room, but my eyes catch on Eliza. There’s times, like today, when she wears the most ridiculous things to the rink. She’s wearing a tight black skirt that lands just above her knees, a blouse and blazer that don’t look warm enough, and tall heels.

My eyes slowly track the length of her body, and when I meet her eyes, a small blush stains her cheeks, barely noticeable. She quickly averts her eyes to one of her friends, and I duck into the room and head straight for my usual spot in the corner. It’s the perfect place to be able to see everything going on in the room. It’s the same spot I’ve been sitting in locker rooms ever since I started playing ice hockey.

I methodically change into my gear, blocking out everything around me before I get on the ice to warm up. I stop in the crease, scraping my skates across the ice to prep it before I drop to the ice and do a few stretches making sure to stretch my groin after I almost pulled it a few games ago. I’m starting to feel my age after games, my body aching more than it did years ago.

Standing, I bend at the waist, dipping my head and working to get my mind in the right place before the puck drops. As I let out a slow breath, I twist my neck slightly to the side and find Eliza with her friends. They’re all sitting in their usual spot on the bleachers beside our bench. She smiles at them, laughing with them, but her face changes slightly when she watches each of the women with their significant others. She grabs Josh and Liv’s daughter from Liv and starts playing with her as though to change where her attention is directed. She smiles brightly at the little girl, and I shake my head when I realize I’m staring at her.

I’ve never watched a woman as intently as I have Eliza over the last year. There’s something interesting about her that I can’t put my finger on. We’ve had minimal contact with each other, she’s always with her friends when I see her at games, and I’ve never been sure of what it is that has me so drawn to her.

I find my eyes wandering to her every whistle. With my mask, it’s easy to hide the fact that I’m watching her. She laughs, wrapping herself in her blazer, hugging it to her body. I’m not sure why she’d show up to a cold rink in what she’s wearing, she must be freezing, but she doesn’t seem to let it impact how she’s interacting with her friends. She still smiles warmly at them and gives them her undivided attention when they talk to her, and I wonder what that would feel like. To be her sole focus.

When the game’s over, I follow the guys off the ice and towards the locker room. I take my time collecting my sticks as I sneak one last glance at Eliza out of the corner of my eye before Ifind myself resolved in my decision from earlier and slip into the locker room to change.

CHAPTER 4

Eliza

Iswirl my straw in my drink as music plays softly in the bar. I sometimes come to the Clover when I want to be around noise and people without having to actually interact with anyone. I can order my food and drinks and then I’m left alone. I sit in the corner of the room so I can see everything going on around me and be fully aware of my surroundings, but I still somehow miss a hulking six-foot-five British man approach my table and slide into the bench across from me.

My eyes widen as I nearly sputter my drink. Mac hands me a napkin, and I delicately dab my lips with it as I quickly gather myself. Neither of us say anything for a solid minute, both of us just staring at each other.

Mac eventually leans his arms on the table, his body following slowly as he quietly says, “I have an offer for you.”

I raise a brow, intrigued. Mac and I have barely interacted with each other since we first met when Liv and Josh started dating and the girls started going to the games. I’ve always heard that he’s more of a loner who keeps to himself, never reallyjoining the guys for anything outside of games. I was surprised he showed up New Year’s at Matt and Zoey’s.

I lean back in my seat, crossing my legs under the table. I don’t say anything in response to his statement, figuring he’ll eventually continue.

As my lips wrap around my straw, I feel the way his eyes watch me. It’s like he waited for me to swallow my drink because as soon as I have he says words that would have had me spitting it all over him.

“I saw your manifestation at New Year’s.”

My ears immediately heat, and I feel it making a path across my face and down my neck, my skin feeling itchy as embarrassment fills me. I haven’t even told my best friends about me being a virgin, and now this man I’ve barely talked to is sitting across from me in a bar saying he saw the confession and has an offer for me.

I swallow again as I blink a few times, trying to wrap my head around this announcement.

“I see,” is all I manage to say. There’s no way that I’m saying the words out loud, especially not in the middle of this bar surrounded by people who could overhear.

He nods and I swallow nothing, an involuntary reflex I know gives away my nerves.

I don’t have these conversations with my best friends, the people I’d trust with my life, having it with a man I barely know is beyond my comfort zone, even if the man has intrigued me for a while.

“I’m unsure of what you’re getting at,” I finally say, sitting up straighter as if that will give me the courage and nerves of steel to finish this conversation.

“Well,” he starts. “I have a dilemma that you could maybe help me with and in return, I’d help you achieve your New Year’s...manifestation.”

The way he says manifestation has me biting my lip to stop me from giggling. He obviously abhors the idea of it, and I must admit it’s not my thing either, but watching him trying to take it seriously right now is helping with some of my nerves—I don’t know why.

“What’s the dilemma?” I ask, trying to move the conversation off me for a bit.

He waves down the server, ordering a scotch neat before he answers. The air is filled with awkwardness as he waits for his drink, and I play with the condensation on my glass, looking everywhere but at him. When his drink is delivered, he sips it slowly, the air filling with more tension. I have the urge to crawl out of my skin. I hate silence when I’m with people. There are very few people whom I’m comfortable enough around that I can sit in silence with, and Mac is not one of them. I barely know the guy, and to even be having a one-on-one conversation with him in the middle of this bar is bizarre to me.