Marcus (Signature Sweethearts Book 6)
Page 14
A bitter smile graces my lips as I remember Natalie pointing out how often Sophie likes to use her pregnancy to get what she wants, and the kick she would get out of seeing me in the shop at my sister’s beck and call.
As I look up to see my sister hanging out by the cash register, a flash of dark hair from the back of the shop catches my eye.
My gaze narrows as I take a step toward the counter while assessing my surroundings. Somehow, I feel like I’ve fallen into a shark tank, and the predators are swarming.
“Hi!” Sophie greets me with a syrupy sweet voice.
I tilt my head in suspicion. “Hey.”
“Thanks for coming. I thought your phone might’ve been broken with how little you’ve responded to my messages lately. And don’t even get me started on Natalie’s messages to you. She told me that you’ve been ignoring her. Is that true?”
By some miracle, I restrain myself from snapping at her. Natalie has sent multiple texts in the past two days, none of which I’ve responded to. Maybe it’s a defensive mechanism, but I can’t get myself to open up to her again. Not after the betrayal I felt when she admitted she’s leaving. I feel like she’s abandoning the potential of us, and it sucks. I know it’s not exactly rational, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s how I feel.
Setting her pills on the counter, I release a sigh. “Not really in the mood for an interrogation, Tink. Maybe next time.” I turn on my heel to disappear from a place that’s way too familiar. Hell, I can almost smell Natalie’s perfume wafting through the air.
“Wait!” a familiar voice yells. I feel like I’ve entered a hot shower after being frozen. Her voice almost burns as it slowly thaws out the deep cold that I was sure would never go away.
I clear my throat before slowly turning around and staring daggers at my little sister while completely ignoring the girl of my dreams hovering in the door frame that leads to the back.
Sophie holds up her hands in surrender. “You can’t hate me. I’m pregnant. And you were ignoring her. And she leaves in two days. And I’m a meddler. We all know this.”
Natalie snorts before covering her mouth with her dainty little hands that are still speckled in flour from whatever she was making in the back.
“What do you want, Natalie?” I ask, getting straight to the point.
Her gaze bounces around the room before landing back on me. She tucks her hair behind her ear nervously, leaving a white streak in her dark locks.
“I just want to talk to you,” she murmurs shyly.
I groan, tilting my head up toward the ceiling in frustration before I rub my hand against my face. “About what, Nat? I think we did plenty of that a few nights ago.”
“You did plenty of talking,” she argues. “Me? I didn’t do enough.”
“Listen to her, Marcus. You owe yourself that much,” Sophie interjects.
“Zip it, Soph. She might be your best friend, but she’s also my….” My what, exactly? My ex? It’s not a strong enough term to describe what she was to me. What she is to me. She was my everything. And she’s choosing a career over me.
“Five minutes, Marc. That’s all I’m asking for,” Natalie begs.
“It’s Marcus,” I correct her with an icy stare.
She nods. “Right. Marcus.”
Sophie’s jaw hits the floor. “Asshole,” she mumbles under her breath before grabbing Natalie’s arm and gently nudging her toward me. “You two,” she points at the both of us, “will talk, or I will lock this door and never let you out. Trust me, there’s plenty of food. You guys would survive just fine. Now get to it. Natalie has a plane to catch.”
Don’t remind me.
Her eyes gleam wickedly. “Actually…I really like that idea.”
She grabs her jacket from the coat rack near the cash register and heads out, locking the door behind her with a giant grin, even though we can easily unlock it from our side.
“Toodles!” she yells, wagging her fingers at us through the glass. And with that, she struts down the corner, leaving the desperately needed Tylenol untouched on the counter.
Devious little shit.
Releasing a deep breath, I turn my attention to Natalie. “You put her up to this?”
Her lips twitch. “What do you think?”
I groan. “Nope. This was all her.”
“Ding-ding-ding.” She mimics a gameshow’s bell when they’ve answered a question correctly. It’s almost enough to make me crack a smile, but I hold strong.
“Well, I’m here.” I lift my arms at my sides. “What do you have to say?”
She eyes me warily for a split second before taking a hesitant step toward me. My back is made of steel as the tension pulses between us. My face is stoic, even though I won’t admit it to myself that I’ve been dying for an explanation.
“I’m sorry, Marc,” she clears her throat. “Marcus. I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry I hurt you by keeping you in the dark. I’m sorry I didn’t let you say the ‘L’ word. I’m sorry I made you feel like I was using you to pass the time.” Her eyes begin to gather tears as she breathes in a little sniffle. “I’m sorry that I’m choosing me instead of us.” Shit that hurts. “It’s not that I want to be selfish, it’s that I need to find out who I am on my own, instead of living in your, or Sophie’s, shadow. I’m not even saying I need to do that alone. I just...I want to be the main dish for once, instead of the appetizer, ya know? I wish you could understand that if I could, I’d pack you in my bags and bring you with me. Leaving you is going to be the hardest thing I ever do, and I can’t begin to tell you how much I don’t want to do it.” A light blush colors her cheeks as she looks down at her scuffed-up Nikes. “I’ve kind of sucked with the whole communication part of our relationship, so Sophie suggested I start now. Here goes.” She looks up at me, her expression nothing short of determined. “You’ve always been it for me, Marcus. You’ve always been the one. You’ve always owned me. And I think I forgot to tell you that, even though there will be an ocean between us, you’ll still own me. I guess I just assumed you’d understand that I wasn’t choosing me for forever. When I overheard you talking to your friends, it sealed the deal. I’d been on the fence, but I needed the push to stop thinking of others for once. And I want to thank you for that push, even when it hurts so damn much. I never planned on this being forever. I was just hoping for a pause button for a few months, until I got back. But I didn’t feel like I could ask you to wait. It’s not fair that I get to pursue my own dreams while you’re stuck in pause mode.” Hastily, she wipes at her face in hopes of removing the salty moisture clinging to her skin.
With her mouth forming a tiny ‘O,’ she breathes out all the pent-up oxygen in her lungs, trying to get ahold of her emotions. “Seeing you this past month? The relationship Marcus? He’s pretty perfect, and I know I’m not the only girl who would think so. Hell, you’re practically a celebrity in the gaming world. You could get any girl you want, and I can’t expect you to wait for me. But Sophie pointed out that it’s not my call to make. If you want to be stuck in pause mode for a few months until I come back, then that’s your decision. Even though I know it isn’t fair of me to ask that of you. Anyway…I guess that’s all I was wanting to say.” She shrugs one shoulder, shifting from foot to foot before wiping her floured hands on her black apron.
“You want me to wait?” My voice is gritty. Raw.
She looks up at me. “Did you not hear anything I just said?”
I laugh dryly. “Just answer the question, Nat.”
Peeking up at me, she whispers, “I want you to want to wait.”
Nodding, I choose my next words carefully. “You’ve always been it for me too, babe. You’ve always been the one. You’ve always owned me.” She bites her lip as a soft smile threatens to take over as I repeat her words. “And I think I forgot to tell you that, even though there will be an ocean between us, you’ll still own me too.”
I watch as she releases a shaky breath, and a tea
r rolls down her cheek. “So what does this mean?”
Stepping closer, I cup her cheek with my hand, wiping the droplet of moisture with my thumb. “This means I wait, Natalie. This means I support you and your dreams any way that I can. This means that I give you whatever you need, even if it guts me to see you go. I love you, Natalie Parker. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, and I’m going to keep loving you. Even if you are a little brat who wants to be a badass chef,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood. By the way her nose scrunches up, and her skin crinkles in the corners of her eyes, I’d say it’s working.
She stands up on her tiptoes as I lean forward to kiss her, stopping when I’m a breath away. “One more thing,” I murmur.
She quirks her brow. “Yeah?”
“Don’t ever stop calling me, Marc.”
She grins as I slam my mouth against hers, closing the last millimeter between us. I try to savor Natalie’s unique flavor that I was positive I’d never taste again as I slip my tongue between her lips. She returns the kiss with her own, forcing all the pent-up frustration from earlier this week into it.
Her fingers scramble for the hem of my shirt. She desperately tugs it up then places her hands against my heated skin across my lower back before exploring lower. She sighs in contentment when she succeeds in her goal, toying with the elastic on my boxer briefs.
I smile against her mouth before mumbling, “Never pegged you for an exhibitionist.”
She responds by biting my lower lip and tugging it playfully.
Well, all right then.
Bending closer, I grasp her upper thighs, silently encouraging her to jump. Thankfully, she catches the hint and wraps her legs around my waist. Natalie continues teasing me with her addictive mouth as I set her down against the countertop.
“Just don’t tell Indie, or she’ll kill me,” Natalie breathes, tilting her chin toward the ceiling and giving me access to the long column of her throat. I take advantage by placing an open-mouthed kiss against her delicate skin before sucking. Hard.
Natalie moans. The feel of her shoes digging into my ass silently encourages me to take things further.
So I do. Right there on the counter of Get Baked.
Natalie’s right. If Indie finds out, she’ll kill us.
If Sophie finds out, she’ll probably give us a high-five.
And I finally understand the true meaning of make-up sex.
It’s mind-blowing.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Natalie
The past two days? They’ve sucked. And they’ve been amazing. And they’ve been exhilarating. And depressing. And pretty much every other feeling on the planet. Marcus hasn’t left my side the entire time, taking a short hiatus from Flinch, the online gaming platform that he works for. He told his subscribers that he’s sorting through some personal stuff, and overall, they’ve been super supportive. The crazy part, though? He’s doing it all for me.
The thought brings another pathetic little smile to my face as we walk through the airport side by side to drop me off. He even insisted on bringing my luggage to the security check-in, instead of just dropping me off at the curb.
Swoon.
“Did you remember your passport?” Marcus murmurs from beside me.
“Yup.”
“And your ticket?”
“Yup,” I repeat.
He pauses in his interrogation as he veers us past the little shops and restaurants in the airport. I can almost see him sorting through his mental checklist for my trip, and it makes me smile.
Man, he’s adorable.
“You didn’t pack any liquids above 3.4 ounces in your carry-on, right?” Marcus continues with his brows pinched.
“Nope.”
“No weapons?”
I scoff. “Sorry, left my Glock at home.”
He ignores my sarcasm. “Any nail files or anything? Because I know TSA can be sticklers.”
I roll my eyes before grabbing his arm and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Nope. But you’re cute when you’re bossy.”
“I’m not bossy,” he argues.
A loud laugh bursts from my mouth before I can stop it.
He glares.
Trying to contain my snort, I pretend to zip my lips and toss the imaginary key.
“Oh, come on!” He shakes his head. “I’m not that bad.”
Quirking my brow, I can’t help but point out, “You kind of are, but I love you for it.”
We reach the security check-in and pull off to the side to say our goodbyes. A moment I’m dreading with every fiber of my being.
“And I love you too, Natalie.” He lets go of the handle on the compact suitcase I’m using for my carry-on and threads his fingers through my belt loops, pulling me toward him. I’m wearing my favorite pair of skinny jeans with a dark blue hoodie that used to be Marcus’s. Until I stole it.
“Oh, you do?” I tease.
“Yeah.” He presses a soft kiss against my nose. “I kinda do.”
Looking down at me, a fresh set of butterflies swarm my lower stomach.
“What was that?” he asks with his lips tilted up at the corners.
“What was what?”
“That smile you just had….”
My cheeks heat. I feel like I’ve been caught red-handed. “I was just thinking about the swarm of butterflies in my stomach, and how you still have a habit of bringing them around. Even after all these years.”
He tilts his head to the side as he assesses me. “All these years?”
Licking my lips, I confess a secret I swore I’d never tell anyone. “The first time I got butterflies was when I was five years old and fell while riding my bike to your house. You saw me face-plant onto the curb and came running over. I’m pretty sure you were wearing a Superman shirt at the time, but that could be five-year-old me making shit up.” He throws his head back, laughing.
“I actually remember that! You had gotten your tutu caught in the chain of your bike and it made you fall. I went inside and got you a Band-Aid.”
I smile as the memories resurface. “Yeah, and when you came running out to me with your Band-Aid wielding hand held proudly in the air…gah!” I swoon. “That was the first time I felt butterflies. And they still seem to come around whenever you’re by me, even after all these years. I just….” I shrug. “I guess I was thinking that was pretty awesome, and that I’m pretty lucky. That’s all.”
His eyes soften before covering my mouth with his in the sweetest kiss imaginable.
Damn butterflies.
When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against mine.
“I’m gonna miss you, baby,” he whispers as my eyes gather with tears.
“Is this a mistake? Should I stay?” Squeezing my eyelids closed, I attempt to shut out the bustling airport around me. “I want to stay,” I breathe. The confession is so quiet, I’m surprised he hears me. His grip tightens around my waist before he drops his head to my shoulder and breathes in my scent.
“You need to go, baby,” he groans, hating himself a little more for pushing me toward my dreams and away from him. “You need to do this. But I’ll be here. I promise.”
I nod as I try to find my inner confidence, when I really feel like a big, fat chicken.
Lifting his head, he looks into my eyes. “You got this, Natalie. And if you feel like you don’t? You call me, okay?”
Again, I nod. “Okay.”
“Good.” He plants another quick kiss to my lips. “Now you gotta go, or else you’ll never go. And then you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. I guarantee it. Call me when you get there, okay?”
And for the third time in ten seconds, I find myself nodding. Again.
Yup. Apparently, I do that a lot when I’m nervous.
He smiles before grabbing my hand, placing it on the handle of my luggage, then gently pushing me toward the security line.
“Go. Have fun. Be the main course.” He winks as I shake my head, peeking over
my shoulder at the man of my dreams I’m willingly leaving across the ocean.
Because I’m an idiot.
“Love you!” I call out.
“Go!” he returns with a grin, using his bossy voice as he pulls out his phone.
I’m smiling, while simultaneously holding back tears, as my phone vibrates in my back pocket. Pulling it out, I see a text from Marcus.
M: Your ass looks hot in those jeans. You should try walking away more often so I can keep the image fresh in my mind.
With my cheeks on fire, I reply.
Me: You should take a picture, it’ll last longer.
The blue bubbles pop up, notifying me that he’s typing.
Seconds later, another message pops up.
It’s a picture of my butt as I’m walking away.
M: Way ahead of you.
A breath of laughter escapes me. Glancing behind me, I see a soft smile plastered across my boyfriend’s face as he mouths, “I love you. Go.” Taking a deep breath, I put my phone back into my pocket and head toward the plane that will take me farther from home than I’ve ever been.
And it kind of sucks.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Natalie
By some miracle, getting through airport security is a breeze, which is almost a problem, because I’m left with too much time to consider bailing before I get on the plane.
My feet tap against the floor as I sit in one of the waiting chairs. My phone is pulled out, and I’m scrolling through pictures of Marcus and me, when someone trips over my foot as I’m sprawled out in my seat.
Crap.
The stranger goes flying. Arms flailing, water bottle spiraling, the whole nine yards. I’m out of my chair before I know it, helping the poor woman back to her feet.
“I am so sorry!” I apologize as I offer my hand to help her up. She seems around my age, maybe a few years older, but not much. She has shoulder-length, dark blonde hair, cute glasses, and a nose piercing that I’d kill for.