Page 57 of Blindsided
My giddy mood deflates. “They consult me on their designs a lot. I contribute more than just the alterations.”
Mac frowns, and he reaches out to cup my cheek. “I didn’t mean anything by that, Freya.”
“Then why did you say it?” I ask, pulling my head back.
He reaches out and holds my hand on the bed. “I just think you’re extremely talented, and if making pet clothing makes you happy, then nothing should stop you from having the confidence to go out there and do it. Your unique brilliance deserves to be seen.”
His words are everything I’ve tried to tell myself many times before. Even in university, when we did group design projects, I always had ideas but deferred to the more outgoing person in our group. Confidence gets things done. Reticence never gets off the ground.
“I’ve thought about talking to Sloan and Leslie about bringing a pet line into the boutique,” I say softly, looking down at Mac’s big hand on my small freckled one. “So many of our clients are obsessed with their pets. You should see how many carry them in their handbags.”
“See?” Mac says, giving my arm an encouraging squeeze. “You’re full of ideas. You have the confidence to do this, I know you do. And selfishly, I want you to do this so you’re never near another man’s genitals with a needle ever again.”
“Shut it, you,” I say and narrow my eyes at him. “You were distracting me with your cuteness.”
“You think I’m cute?” Mac asks, his brows tweaking excitedly at me. “I thought you’d only fancy me if I had a cheese hut.”
I roll my eyes. “You know you’re cute.”
He resumes holding my hand, combing his fingers through mine. “And you know you’re cute…right?”
I take a deep breath, letting the words sink in because they mean so much more than just physical beauty. Knowing I’m cute is the equivalent to having confidence, and I need the latter more than the former. Hopefully someday, I’ll learn how to answer this question without hesitation.
“I know I’m cute,” I state finally, hoping eventually I’ll believe it one hundred percent. I shake my head, ready to turn the focus back to my patient. “And what about your future? What will you do after football?”
Mac’s brows lift. “Hopefully, I have a couple more years left in me, at least. I wouldn’t mind being one of those old geezers on the pitch who die of a heart attack right there on the green.”
A groan erupts from me. “That’s a horrible thought.”
Mac shrugs. “I’m just joking mostly. Actually, my dream job after this football life is over would be something in the world of gaming, where I could combine my computer knowledge with my football knowledge.”
I blink back my shock. “Pardon me, but did you just say computer knowledge?”
Mac rolls his eyes. “I have my degree in computer science, Cookie. I’m not all brawn.”
I sit up, staring down at him with my jaw open. “You what?”
He shrugs and turns onto his back. “My mum would have flogged me if I didn’t get a degree in something useful to fall back on. One bad injury and my career could be over in the blink of an eye. Honestly, I’m shocked I’ve made it this long without anything horrible happening.”
My brows lift as I absorb this very new information. “And computers are your thing?”
He shrugs again like everything he’s saying is so simple. “Computer stuff was always easy for me. Even as a wee lad, I liked knowing how things worked behind the screen. My dad used to bring old computers home from work whenever they got upgraded, and I was always taking them apart and putting them back together.”
“Huh,” I say and smile proudly at my best friend. “Maclay Logan, computer science specialist. You’d be the hottest computer nerd at whatever firm you end up with, you do realise.”
He laughs and rolls his eyes.
“I’m serious. The Javier lookalikes will think you’re the stupid one because you’re just too pretty to be smart too, so you’re going to have to prove yourself on the first day.”
“Okay, boss,” Mac says, reaching out and tweaking my side. I giggle and fall down onto his bare chest. My hair spreads out over his pec as I press my ear to his heart.
“I think that’s really cool, though,” I say softly, allowing the drumming of his heart to soothe me. I spread my hand out on his stomach and slide my finger along his softened abs. “And I’d love to see your caricature as a footballer in a video game.”
“Right?” Mac says excitedly. “It’s the only reason I got all these tattoos.”
I burst out laughing, burying my face in his chest with delight. “You are such an idiot.”
His body shakes beneath my head as he laughs, and soon enough, I see the blanket covering his groin begin to rise.
