Chapter 33
Rachel
Rachel woke up in her own apartment with sunlight streaming through her bedroom window and Mr. Darcy sitting on her chest staring at her with obvious judgment.
Mac's arm was wrapped around her waist, his breathing steady and warm against her neck.
They'd come back to her place after the wedding reception last night. Mac had driven her home and refused to leave her alone. He'd stayed, holding her through the night, whispering reassurances until she finally fell asleep.
Mr. Darcy meowed loudly, demanding breakfast and clearly displeased with the strange man in his territory.
"I know," Rachel whispered to the cat. "But I love him. You're going to have to get used to him."
Mr. Darcy's expression suggested he would never get used to him, but he'd tolerate it for the food.
Mac stirred beside her, his arm tightening around her waist. "Morning," he mumbled against her shoulder, his voice rough with sleep.
Mac trailed kisses down her neck, slow and lazy. "I love waking up with you."
Rachel arched into him, her body already responding to his touch. "We should do this every day."
"Is that a hint you want to move in with me?" He grinned against her collarbone, kissing the sensitive spot that make her breath catch.
"Maybe." Her hands slid up his back, feeling the warmth of his skin. "Would that be crazy?"
"The best kind of crazy." He kissed her deeply, and for a moment the whole world narrowed to just this: Mac's mouth on hers, his hands gentle on her waist, the steady comfort of him beside her.
Rachel rested her forehead against his. "You’re pretty amazing."
"You’re not so bad yourself." Mac's smiled. "Even if your cat is currently plotting my murder."
Rachel laughed, glancing over at Mr. Darcy, who had indeed intensified his judgmental stare. "He's jealous. He's used to being the only man in my life."
"He's going to have to get used to sharing." Mac pressed another kiss to her shoulder, then sighed. "Though speaking of your cat. I feel like he's in charge."
"He is." Rachel smiled. "What time is it?"
“Seven-thirty. You have that team meeting at eleven.”
Mac groaned. "Emergency meetings the morning after you tell your girlfriend you love her should be illegal. I want to stay in bed with you all day and pretend Matthews doesn't exist."
"That sounds perfect."
"Doesn't it?" Mac turned her in his arms to face him. His hair was adorably messy, sticking up in about seventeen different directions, and his eyes were still half-closed but full of warmth.
He kissed her softly. "I love you."
"I love you too. And I beat you to it."
"You did tell me first. In the garden, but I felt it first!" Mac grinned. "But we can debate the timeline later. Right now I just want to enjoy you. This is the best morning ever."
"Mac, the wedding was crashed last night and threatened all of us."
"Still the best morning ever." Mac kissed her forehead. "Coffee?"
"Please."
Mac's hand slid to her lower back, warm and possessive, as he pulled her against him. Not quite sexual, but intimate. His thumb traced lazy circles against her spine.
"If we keep this up, I'm going to be very late for that team meeting."
"Probably." But neither of them moved.
Mac's thumb continued its maddening circles on her lower back, and Rachel's fingers stayed tangled in his hair.
Mr. Darcy meowed loudly from the doorway, breaking the moment.
Mac helped her up, and they moved to the kitchen. Rachel leaned against the counter, watching him navigate her space with that slight awkwardness he had off the ice, reaching for the wrong cabinet, checking with her before opening the fridge. So different from his fluid confidence on skates.
She'd told him she loved him. In front of everyone.
And he'd said it back.
With Brad, she'd waited eight months to say those words. Had rehearsed them, worried about the timing, analyzed his every response.
With Mac, it had just... happened. Natural and real.
So why did she suddenly feel so exposed?
"You okay?" Mac asked, noticing her standing frozen by the counter.
"Yeah. Only..." Rachel wrapped her arms around herself. "Last night was a lot."
"The Derek stuff?"
"No. I mean, yes, but also..." She took a breath. "I've never let anyone see me like that before. Vulnerable. Publicly. With Brad, I was always performing. Trying to be what he wanted. With you, I can't hide."
Mac set down the French press and crossed to her. "Is that a bad thing?"
"I don't know." Rachel's voice cracked. "What if you see the real me and decide I'm too much? Too broken."
"Hey." Mac cupped her face. "Rachel, the real you is who I fell in love with. The messy, scared, brave, brilliant real you. I don't want a performance. I want this."
"I don't know how to do this without armor."
"Then we figure it out together. No armor required." Mac kissed her forehead. "Now. Coffee. Because I genuinely don't understand how this French press works and I need your help."
Rachel laughed, a wet, shaky laugh. "You add the grounds first."
"See? I need you. For coffee-related reasons and also all the other reasons."
They settled on the couch with their coffee, Mr. Darcy claiming Rachel's lap.
"So," Mac said, his tone shifting to something more serious. "I've been thinking."
"About?"
"About me staying here. Or you at my place. Permanently."
"Mac, it’s too soon."
"Hear me out." Mac set down his coffee mug, turning to face her fully. "Rachel, I know it's fast. We've been together for less than two months. But look at what’s happening. Derek is escalating. He’s watching the team. Watching you."
He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.
"I hate dropping you off at your apartment at night," he admitted, his voice low. "Now I will hate driving away knowing you're alone in that building with a flimsy lock while that guy is in town. I won't sleep until I know you're safe."
A shiver ran down her spine. She’d been trying to ignore that fear, but Mac was naming it.
"I want you to move in with me, Rachel," Mac continued. "Yes, because I love you and I want to wake up with you. But mostly? I want you behind a deadbolt I can check. I want to know you're safe. Move in with me, please? At least until this blows over. But... hopefully forever."
Tears pricked her eyes. It wasn't just romance. It was protection. And God, she was tired of being brave alone.
"You really want me to move in?"
"More than anything."
"Okay," Rachel said, the word slipping out before her fear could stop it.
Mac's face split into that wide boyish smile that made him look like a kid on Christmas morning. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Mac kissed her, deep and thorough and full of promise. When they pulled apart, both slightly breathless, he was grinning so widely it looked like his face might split.
"We're moving in together," Mac said, like he was testing out the words. "Your place or my place?"
"Your apartment's bigger," Rachel said with a small smile.
"It's decided." Mac's grin somehow got wider. "When? When can you move in?"
Rachel laughed. "I don't know, I need to give notice on my lease, pack everything—"
"This weekend."
"Mac, that's soon!"
"I know it's fast. I know we should probably wait, do this properly, give you time to organize everything.
" Mac cupped her face. "But Rachel, I don't want to spend one more day without you.
I don't want to wake up in my apartment alone when you could be there.
I don't want to say goodnight at your door and drive away.
I want you there when I wake up. I want you there when I come home from practice.
I want all of it, starting this weekend. "
Rachel's heart squeezed. "This weekend," she agreed. "We'll make it work."
"Best day ever. I told you!"
"Mac, you have a team crisis meeting in three hours."
"Still the best day ever." Mac pulled her close, Mr. Darcy protesting being squished between them. "Nothing can touch this. Nothing can touch us."
Rachel wanted to believe that.
She really, really did.