The two of them watch each other intently, but I swear at this moment they are having a full-on conversation in their heads. I’m certain it involves boxing gloves and Brad Pitt standing in the corner of the ring saying “Welcome to Fight Club.”
Haden stands firmly with his arms crossed. “She just broke up with the love of her life.”
“Uh, wait a minute. Now you’ve got my back?” I laugh in his face, infuriating him even further.
Knowing that I am playing with fire (or Kitty’s selfish need to see the rainbow and get her happily ever after), I grab onto his forearm to move him out of the way. Ignore that it’s hard…his muscles…his muscles are hard! Jesus Presley, jump ship now. You’ve got two young guys in front of you and Kitty is having a nervous breakdown. Luckily, I am carrying my spare big-girl panties and just like Superman, I magically whisk them on and give it back to the Jerk.
“I believe Dee requires your attention.” Leaning in further, I whisper in his ear, “Not sure why you’re holding back from her since you had no problem unleashing on me.”
Pulling myself back, I hear his jaw literally drop to the ground. My work here is officially done. The look on his face is priceless and I have never felt so empowered.
Marcus grabs my hand and I allow him to do so, watching Haden divert his eyes from this intimate gesture. Against the partition, Haden’s knuckles are stark white as he restrains himself. I have no idea what his problem is, apart from the obvious male ego and pride bullshit.
I’m not a prize; this isn’t a competition.
We aren’t even dating, and we both agreed it was a ‘sweep it under the rug’ type of fuck.
Raising my head to meet his eyes, I give him my most evil grin. “See ya later. Jerk.”
Marcus and I sit in the booth near the entrance, lucky to get a seat at a popular diner. The burgers here are delish, and so is Marcus. I have no idea how old he is, and given that it’s rude to ask, I settle for assuming he’s in his twenties. God, when did I become such a cougar?! Guys in their twenties have this wicked aura around them. At least that’s what Vicky tells me. I can see it though. They seem to care a hell of a lot more about their appearance, obsessed with working on their physique. They tend to dress in all designer labels, and even when they are dressed down, they rock a pair of jeans and a tee like a model on a runway.
Then there’s the hair.
Marcus has beautiful jet-black hair.
Although it’s short, you can tell it’s silky smooth. If he grew it out, he would look like Cleopatra and I would happily feed him grapes from a golden plate.
While the waiter serves us our meals, my cell vibrates. Expecting a much needed text from Vicky, I’m surprised to see it’s from the Jerk instead, and immediately roll my eyes before even opening the message.
What do you mean unleash on you? Are we talking about this now?
I should have responded with something witty, but Marcus seemed to have focused his attention on me. I throw my cell into my purse and dive into my meal. He has quite an appetite on him, almost polishing off the burger in a second.
“I could do another,” he says with a satisfied smile.
“Why not? You only live once. There’s always the gym…” I trail off.
“So tell me, why are you a gym virgin and why the sudden urge to work out? You look amazing, hot, sexy, just in case no one has ever told you that.” He smirks.
“Nice flirting.” I laugh in return, relaxing us both. “Long, long story. Maybe another time.”
“I’ve got time.”
“Super long.”
“Hmm, okay sixty seconds. Ten questions, I get to ask you anything and that’ll satisfy my curiosity.”
“Huh?”
He looks at his watch. “Time starts now. Who did you last date?”
What was the rule of the game? He taps on his watch, so I answer quickly.
“Date? I was engaged to a guy named Jason.”
“Why did you guys break it off?”
“It wasn’t right,” I stutter nervously.
He raises his eyebrows, but does not pry any further.
“Where did you grow up?”
“Virginia.”
“Siblings?”
“An older sister, Gemma.”
“Favorite band?”
“Band? Bon Jovi.”
“Nice,” he adds. “Favorite song?”
“In These Arms…Bon Jovi.”
“Favorite movie?”
“Father of the Bride.”
He pauses, then follows with a short chuckle. “I love that movie too.”
“Really?” I laugh out loud.
“Favorite food?”
“Nachos.”
“Ultimate holiday destination?”
“Australia,” I answer with a smile.
“Why did Haden take you outside on Friday night?”
The question, a giant curveball, stuns me. Mentally, I try to calculate how many questions he has asked me, but all I think about is some excuse that will satisfy him without having to let the cat out of the bag.
“How many questions is that? I think your time is up.”
“I’m sure you can answer the last one.” His stern tone catches me off guard.
I could tell him the truth; besides, if this goes any further, I can’t hide something like that from him. What are the chances of this going further? He is young, I am older. The best we could achieve is copious amounts of hot sex.
“We had an argument earlier that day. Frankly, your cousin is a jerk.”
He seems fixated on my movement, and I give him nothing to see how uncomfortable I am with this conversation.
“I think I will order that second burger.”
“Don’t I get to ask you the lightning round of questions?”
“The next date you can.” He winks.
“Oh, there’s going to be a next date?” I ask coyly.
“Why wouldn’t there be?” He angles his face closer to mine, and with his lips slightly parted, I follow his lead until our lips brush together. The butterflies have crept their way into my stomach, causing some major excitement, but it’s soon followed by the grim reaper—guilt. I don’t know who or what I am feeling guilty about. My second attempt at playing the field since Jason and I broke up only two weeks ago, or the fact that he is the Jerk’s cousin.
Don’t answer that.
“Marcus?” I say softly as we both move away. “I just broke up with my fiancé. I’m slowly adjusting to life being single again.”
“I’m not asking you to marry me, Presley. We can have fun together.”
Fun. That either means hanging out at the amusement park or being tied to the bed with a gag ball and chains. Kitty has her voting cards out already, proudly holding up ‘option two.’
Traitor.
We finish lunch and head back to the office. Marcus insists on taking me back to my desk. I put my purse away and before I know it, he leans in to gently kiss my lips again. In the background, I hear a throat being cleared. It’s Dee, and she is standing with an overly thrilled Clive.
“Listen, I better go. Call me tonight, okay?”
I nod, and when he turns the corner, I think all is sweet until the whispers become louder and the three of us are standing there trying to eavesdrop.
“Just like when we were kids,” I hear the Jerk say.
“You said I had free rein,” Marcus responds, frustrated.
“When did you ever hear me say that?” he bites back.
“Friday night. Though you never explained why you pulled her away from the dance floor? C’mon Haden, you’re fucking the blonde. What do you care?”
Silence falls between us all. Dee looks hurt, but that soon turns to anger. She glares at me like this is all my fault.
“You’re right, I am fucking the blonde. So why should I care about Malone? She’s all yours, bud.”