AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You need someone to walk you out?” he asks, checking his watch.
“My boyfriend is waiting outside,” I tell him, the fabrication rolling off my tongue a little easier each time I say it.
He nods, turning back to his computer. “Get some rest. You look like you need it.”
Gee, thanks, Charles.
But I’m sure he’s right. My morning started off shitty with the email. After that, I freaked out and packed my bags, feeling an urgent need to remove myself from Sophie and Owen’s house and put distance between me and the people I love the most, just in case my stalker decided today was the day they’d do something stupid.
Since then, I’ve been inside this building. Almost twenty-four hours have passed at this point and there is no telling what I look like right now.
When I step out of the building and see Mack’s vehicle, my entire body seems to deflate as all the tension and anxiety I’ve been carrying leave my body at just the realization that Mack is here.
It’s unexplainable, I can’t even begin to make sense of it, but it’s real and welcome.
He steps out of his car and meets me about halfway up the sidewalk.
Taking my bag from my shoulder, his eyes meet mine and we just stand there for a minute as we unapologetically soak each other in.
“Is it weird if I tell you I missed you?” he asks, voice low and rumbly.
Shaking my head, I inhale deeply, my throat feeling tight with emotions. “No,” I finally whisper. “Not weird at all.”
Fake relationship or not, I missed him too.
So bad.
I was even sitting at my desk earlier, counting how many days the Revelers will be home for these next two series. And then, I counted how many games until the playoffs when I’ll be joining them on the road.
Six days at home.
Then back on the road for three.
Playoffs will officially start the second week of October, bringing the total games left to thirty.
“You smell so good,” he says, pulling me into his chest and pressing his lips to my hair.
“I don’t know how that’s possible,” I groan. “I feel like I’ve been up for three days instead of twenty-four hours and Charles just told me I look like I need sleep.”
Mack chuckles, the rumble in his chest reverberating through mine. “You do look tired, but it doesn’t mean you’re any less beautiful or that you don’t still smell amazing.”
He thinks I’m beautiful.
Why is that what my sleep-deprived brain focuses on?
Mack Granger thinks I’m beautiful.
“Come on,” he says, taking my hand and walking me toward his car. “Let’s get you home.”
Home.
I also love the sound of that.
When he opens the door for me, my heart stutters. I’ve always loved when guys do that in movies or when I’ve seen Owen do it for Sophie. But growing up, I never saw my dad open a door for my mom. Someone else always did it—valet, a driver—but never him.
Before you get it twisted, I’m not a silly romantic who builds her world on fantastical dreams, but I would be lying if I said I don’t like the way I feel when Mack does things for me.
A few seconds later, when he reaches across and fastens my seatbelt, my eyes close as I will my body to not react.
