Page 16 of Play Fake
Liam and Oliviaare now busy debating the intricacies of this particular plan, as Mac stares at me with her hand dug into my thigh. I can tell she’s pissed I interfered with a plan that could have involved Ben but fuck if I’m going to sit idly by and watch that happen.
Besides, if she’s gonna get confrontational with a cheating ex, she needs someone who can get their hands dirty. Someone who’s up for a fight, if need be, and that isn’t Ben. He’s not the right guy for the job, even if she wishes he was.
I lean over, whispering into her ear, “The spot you want is up and over to the left some.”
Her grip on my thigh tightens at the words, and I can practically hear her teeth grind.
“This is why it won’t work,” she mutters under her breath.
“Sure it will. Besides, I can guarantee Ben already has plans on this short of notice. So unless you have another option?” I hedge my bets.
“And why is ityouhave time? Disappoint one too many jersey chasers and lose your five-star rating on the ride-a-football-player app?” She whispers and gives me a smug little grin.
I smile back, leaning toward her until my lips practically touch her neck.
“Darlin’, you’ve seen enough to know, but if you’re still unsure, I told you where you can put your hand so you can be one hundred percent certain no part of me is disappointing.”
The spill of blush on her cheeks is enough to let me know I’ve hit the target I was hoping for, and I glance back at Liam and Olivia to make sure they’re still bickering and unaware of the sideshow.
“You might not like it, but you know I’m your best option if you want to make him jealous.”
Her grip relents slightly, and I’m tempted to run my hand over hers, drag it up my thigh just to see what she’d do in return. She hates me, sure, but there’s a thin line between hate and lust, and sometimes I think I get on the right side of it.
“So, you’re going to do it, right?” Olivia returns her attention to Mac expectantly.
She pulls her hand from my thigh abruptly, returning it to her own lap like she fears Olivia’s spotted what she was doing. I can feel Liam’s eyes boring a hole into the side of my head. I can already guess he thinks this is a bad idea. Not because he cares that much, but because he’s worried about what I’ll do to agitate Mac that’ll blow back on him when Olivia finds out. But I fully intend to use the opportunity to get Mac to see me differently, and I’ll be on my best fucking behavior for it.
“There’s no way he fits into a club catering to the punk music crowd,” Mac continues to dig her heels in.
“Why not?”
“Like that?” She points to my attire, and admittedly, today I’m dressed like I just walked off the ranch in Texas, but I can dress up when necessary.
“I didn’t think your scene was that snobby.”
“Olivia, be serious.”
“I’m sure he has other clothes. Or we can find him something. Right?” Olivia finally addresses me directly instead of talking around me like I’m not here. Something Mac loves to do.
“Sure thing. Just tell me the dress code, Mac. I’ve got you covered.”
Like the way my body covered hers in the bathroom the other morning. All her soft curves pressed up against me.
Shit. I hate the flashbacks. It’s like a war in my mind. Want her. Hate her. Want her. My dick and my brain can’t agree. I don’t hate her, not really. I just hate the fact she looks at me like I’m a creature from the deep that somehow washed up at her feet.
I glance up at her, and I can tell my choice of words was not appreciated as she gives me a tight smile that might as well read “Fuck You” in giant neon lights.
“Perfect.” is what she finally manages to grit out between her teeth, though.
“What time do you need me here?”
She stares at the ceiling for a moment, and I can’t tell whether she’s actually doing the math on when we need to be there or if she’s just hoping something will get her out of this.
“Let me think on it, and I’ll let you know.”
“K. Give me your phone.” I hold out my hand.
Another surreptitious glare.
