Page 55 of Faking With You

I’m saved when Eliza and her mom join us at the table with bowls of pasta and salad. Eliza smiles at me as she takes the seat beside me. I fight the urge to place my hand on her thigh, wanting some connection to her, but her request for no PDA rings in my mind.

“How are you, Eliza?” her father asks. “It’s been so long since you’ve been home.”

I see a flicker of shame pass over her face. “I’m good, Dad. Busy at work, but...” Her eyes flick to me, and a smile pulls at her lips. “I’m happy.”

The urge to touch her right now is so strong, but I continue to fight it even though it’s on the edge of painful.

“Anything big and new in your life?” Eliana asks.

Eliza picks at her food and looks at me from the corner of her eye. She’s more timid around her parents than she is with her friends and even with me now, and I don’t like it.

Even though it may be overstepping, I say, “We just went to London for two weeks. It was a good trip.”

Confusion fills her parents' expressions as Eliza looks at me before turning to her parents.

“You went together on this trip,” her father says, like he’s trying to get the idea to sink in.

“You’ve always wanted to go to London,” Eliana says, and I send out a silent thank-you, hoping that means her mother isn’t going to freak out about this revelation.

Eliza smiles. “I have. It was nice to be there with someone familiar with the city. We both had to work, but we got in some sightseeing.”

Eliana and Eliza fall into more conversation about our trip, but I feel William’s eyes on me, assessing me. This desire to show him that I care for his daughter has me reaching out takingher hand. She stiffens slightly, almost imperceptible to the eye, but I feel it. After a few seconds, she relaxes and even squeezes my hand, and I feel a small weight lift. As long as I have Eliza, it will all be okay.

CHAPTER 41

Eliza

Having Mac in my family home is weird enough, but to feel relaxed while he shows me affection in front of my parents is beyond what words can describe. It has me simultaneously goingwhat the fuckandwhy does this feel so right?

My parents showed each other affection growing up, so it’s not like I never saw it, but they preached about waiting until marriage and finding the one. Who knows, maybe if Mac and I didn’t start the way we did, maybe he’d be the one. I know my dad is watching Mac like a hawk, wanting to make sure he’s a good man, and I love my dad for it, but I also fear his disapproval of Mac.

There’s something about the way Mac casually rubs his thumb over the back of my hand that has all the anxiety I’ve had today float away. I feel safe right now. A simple hand hold shouldn’t be so monumental, but for some reason it is. It’s like he’s anchoring me and all my messy thoughts and I can just be. The ability to just be in the moment without letting outside thoughts and worries weigh me down is like the final puzzle piece clicking into place and giving me the complete picture.That picture is a look into my future, a future I want with Mac by my side, building a life together. It’s the realization that I was stupid and let myself fall in love with him.

I feel like I should be pulling my hand away, trying to fight this, but there’s no point. I can’t change something that’s already happened. I manage to make it through the rest of dinner keeping conversation relatively light, and thankfully no questions ofWhere do you see this going?orIs it serious?get asked and we manage to leave relatively unscathed.

At the car, Mac opens my door for me, but once I’ve climbed in he doesn’t close it, rather he steps closer and waits for me to look at him. When our eyes meet, he asks, “Can I stay at your place tonight, or will you come to mine?”

My heart starts racing. My brain is sayingno, hell no, but my heart and...other parts of me are sayingwhat the hell is taking you so long to say yes?His eyes are soft and pleading, and my heart wins out as I whisper, “Yes.”

He grins at me like a freaking puppy, and I know I’m digging my heart's grave deeper. He closes my door, rounds the car, and we’re on our way.

“Your place or mine?” he asks.

“Yours. Can I just grab some stuff from mine first?” I need to keep him as far from my place as possible right now. I have a serious feeling that if we start spending time there, each room will remind me of him when we inevitably part ways.

He nods, and his right hand finds the top of my thigh, gently resting there. I stare out the window, listening to the music playing from the radio and spacing out.

Mac comes upstairs with me as I throw some things in a bag. I’ve left a few things at his place, but there are a few more things I need. I’m putting the last items in my bag when Mac wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head.

“I missed you,” he whispers.

I smile, leaning into him and closing my eyes. “It’s only been a week.”

“Longest week of my life.”

I hold my breath. This is all too perfect, he’s too perfect. I almost wish he was a complete asshole so I could stop having feelings for him, but it’s almost impossible. I haven’t found a single thing about him that would send me running for the hills.

He kisses the top of my head again, and I force myself to finish packing. He grabs my bag for me and interlaces our fingers as we head back down to his car. When he puts my bag in the trunk, I notice a packed bag and look at him.