Page 29 of The Fake Mate

“Oh, we’re just...” I frown down at the table. “Honestly, I’m surprised she even agreed. It makes no sense from anyone’s point of view why she would.”

That part is definitely true, and something that is constantly on my mind. Even with her reasoning that I’m keeping her from another string of bad dates—it’s a lot to take on, this thing we’re doing, and it feels as if I have much more to benefit from it.

“Well, you did say she’s a saint,” Paul says.

I nod. “I did.”

I notice he’s smiling again, almost like he has a secret, and with a subtle shake of his head, he gives his attention back to his glass. “I look forward to seeing how this plays out.”

“Hopefully in something other than disaster,” I huff.

“Just be careful,” Paul warns again. “You’re too bright to let this ruin you. It would be a waste all around.”

“I will,” I tell him. “If nothing else... I wouldn’t want to jeopardize Mackenzie’s career. I couldn’t live with myself if I dragged her down with me.” I catch Paul looking at me with that strange smile again, and raise an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he laughs. “Like I said, I look forward to seeing how this plays out.”

I’m not really sure what he means by that, and decide that asking will most likely just get me more sly glances.

“Noah!”

My head whips to the side at the sound of Mackenzie’s voice, catching her pushing through the crowd again. I notice her cheeks are slightly more flushed than they were when she left. She offers aquiet apology to Paul before she leans in to whisper in my ear, and there is an imperceptible (or at least, I hope it is) shiver that passes over me when I feel her breath wash against the shell.

“Dennis is here,” she whispers. “He was asking somebody at the bar if they’d seen us.” I can smell the fruity drink she must have downed before she came back. “Just follow my lead.” Before I even have time to be confused, she reaches for my hand, tugging me from where I’m sitting. “Come dance with me!” I must make a face, because Mackenzie barks out a laugh. “Oh, come on. Dance with me, sourpuss.”

I’m momentarily distracted by the warmth of her palm, even more so by the inviting quality of her smile. Like shereallywants to dance with me. It makes it hard to say anything other than “Okay.” I slide the rest of the way out of the booth, casting Paul an apologetic glance. “Sorry.”

“Go, go,” he urges. “Dance with your mate.”

His smile is as sly as it’s been for the last five minutes, but I don’t have time to be uneasy about it with Mackenzie pulling me across the floor like she is. She pulls me closer when we’re encased in the swarm of people there, taking my hands and placing them on her hips before she hooks hers behind my head.

“I figured he wouldn’t bother you if you were dancing with me,” she explains.

“Oh.” I nod, turning to scan the crowd to see if I can catch sight of him. “Good call.”

“Two birds,” she hums.

I arch an eyebrow. “What is the other bird?”

“When will I ever get to say again that I danced withNoah fucking Taylor?”

“That’s an interesting takeaway,” I chortle.

“My friend Parker calls you that,” she admits. “Noah fucking Taylor. You really are a weird kind of celebrity at work.”

“I never meant to be,” I tell her.

Strangely, her smile widens. “I’m starting to get that. Just part of your charm.”

There it is again. I still can’t get used to anything in relation to me being referred to ascharm.

“How much did you have to drink?”

She wrinkles her nose. I have definitely decided it’s endearing. “Just a cosmo.” She notices my hesitance to believe her, rolling her eyes. “And a couple of shots.”

“We should make sure you pace yourself for the rest of the night,” I laugh. “Don’t want you to get sick.”

She winks at me. “It’s fine. I have my alpha here, right?”

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