by Toni Aleo
But before he could move, she whispered, “Markus.”
He could smell the whiskey on her breath, knew this wasn’t supposed to happen, but then she was moving and he couldn’t stop her. He didn’t have the willpower. Next thing he knew, her lips pressed to his—softly, God, so softly that his eyes fell shut as his body went hot and tight. She felt so damn good. Digging his fingers into the couch, he stayed as still as he could because if he moved, he wouldn’t stop. When her tongue came out, running along his bottom lip, he pulled away, shaking his head.
“Mekena, you’re drunk.”
“I don’t care. Come here,” she whispered, her fingers gliding along the back of his head. “I want you.”
“Mekena, please,” he said, pulling fully away. As much as he hated it, he knew he had no choice. He couldn’t trust himself. He wanted her too much.
Standing up, he went around the table and smacked his hands together, unable to look at her. “So, do you need help—”
“Really? What is wrong? Am I that disgusting?”
Looking up at her, he furrowed his brow as he looked down at her. “Disgusting? What?”
“Me! You don’t want to kiss me. You didn’t want to fuck me. So you fucked my sister instead! What is wrong with me?” she yelled, struggling to stand, but she did. “Why aren’t I good enough?”
“Mekena, it’s not that. Please don’t think that. You have to let me explain—”
“No, Markus, your actions speak volumes!”
She went to walk away, limping, but he stopped her. “Please give me a chance to explain.”
“Because I want to hear how you don’t want me. Thanks, but no thanks.”
“I do want you, Mekena!”
“Again, you have a funny way of showing it,” she yelled, ripping her arm from his as she limped back to her room.
Rushing to catch up, he blocked the doorway as she glared up at him. “Give me a chance. Let me explain.”
“What is there to explain?”
“A lot! And if you give me a fucking chance, you’ll know what. Stop assuming shit and let me tell you the truth—when you’re not drunk.” She glared, her eyes filling with tears that he swore, if they fell, he’d be done for. “Please, Mekena. Meet me for breakfast tomorrow.”
Shaking her head, she looked away. “I can’t. I’m going out to breakfast with my parents.”
“Fine, lunch.”
“I can’t. I have stuff for the wedding,” she said, looking back at him. “And tomorrow night, I have the rehearsal, so maybe after that. I don’t know.”
“After the rehearsal sounds great. Wanna meet back here?”
She shrugged, and he could tell she was having an internal battle. She didn’t want to want him, and he understood that. But maybe that meant something. Maybe it was meant to be, and she needed to stop fighting it. Taking a deep breath, she nodded her head. “I guess.”
He nodded back even though his heart was in his throat. He wasn’t sure how the hell he was going to tell her everything tomorrow, but he’d figure it out. There was no way he was going to let her think it was because he didn’t want her. That was the furthest thing from the truth, and he was going to tell her just that.
He leaned toward her, fully expecting her to flinch away, but she didn’t. She stood there completely still as he pressed his lips to her cheek. “Goodnight, Mekena.”
Pulling back, she looked up at him and shook her head. “You better not make me regret this.”
“I won’t,” he promised, and he hoped it was clear in his eyes that he meant it.
At least, he hoped she wouldn’t. But hadn’t he thought that before?
Meeeeeeeeeooooooooooowwwwwwww.
“Ugh, no. Go away,” Mekena moaned, covering her eyes as she turned over. Her head was pounding, and automatically, she felt as if she was going to puke. Plus, her ankle was throbbing with pain. The last thing she wanted to do was get up and feed Mr. Right, but apparently, her sweet boy didn’t get that memo.
Meeeeoooowwwwww.
His cries, she could ignore, and he must have known that because soon he started to bat her in the back of the head with his paw. His nails dug into her head and caught her hair, pulling it. Hard.
“Mister! No, sir! That hurts,” she complained, turning over to meet her cat full on. He didn’t seem impressed, nor did he seem to care as she glared back at him. “I don’t feel good. Go find a mouse and eat that.”
That was apparently not an option, and he smacked her once more, his meowing coming out with more gusto than before.
“You’re killing me,” she moaned, kicking the blankets off and reaching for the glass of water she had sitting on the table by her bed. As she drank, her head felt as if it was about to explode, and she wanted to die. But then pain shot up her leg, and she became convinced that dying was a good idea. As she reached down, rubbing her ankle, she noticed it was swollen but seemed okay.
Meeeoooowww.
“Yeah, yeah, give me a minute,” she demanded, getting some aspirin and popping those. Closing her eyes, she moaned loudly as she stretched her arms up, wishing like hell she had skipped those last shots of whiskey with Jace and Avery. She wasn’t going to make it today. It was that simple. She had to have breakfast with her parents and then do a test shoot with Libby followed by the rehearsal tonight. Type-A Lucy had decided to have the rehearsal the day before the dinner since she wanted a whole day before the wedding to adjust in case everything didn’t go exactly as she wanted. Benji had just smiled and indulged her. Right now, Mekena was grateful it wouldn’t be another late night with free-flowing alcohol.
Today was already going to be long, and being hungover while she did it was not the smartest move on her part.
“Oh, crap,” she muttered because then she remembered she had agreed to talk to Markus after everything. “Fuck me,” she cried, falling back and covering her face as her memories came back to her at full force. The pain in her ankle now had an explanation, and crap, she'd kissed him. Like, really kissed him, and it felt so damn good.
What an idiot!
She was never drinking again.
No, she’d be an overweight cat lady who ate lots of snacks and became completely unsociable. That would be her life because she was positively losing it. She had one goal—she had to steer clear of him, it was that simple—but somehow, she had not only not steered clear, she’d kissed him. Like a dipshit. How could she have agreed to speak to him? Though, as soon as she thought it, she knew why. She wanted to know what he had to say. She wanted to know what he meant last night when he said she still mattered.
Did he still care for her? Did he want her back? Could she take him back? What the hell? Why was she thinking about any of this? He cheated! She wasn’t getting back with him. For the rest of their relationship, she would always fear he would cheat on her again. No, she would be setting them up for failure. It would be asinine of her.
Yet she could still feel his lips.
The thickness of them consuming her own as she held him, needing to drink from his amazing mouth.
God, she was in trouble. So much trouble.
Meeeeoooowww.
“Fucking hell!” she complained, standing up and wobbling a bit on her way to get her bathrobe. Throwing it on, she glared at Mr. Right. “You are spoiled.”
He just looked at her as though that wasn’t an untrue statement while she rolled her eyes, staggering out of the room to the kitchen to get her spoiled cat some food. But what she found wasn’t food, it was better. Markus at the stove, cooking bacon.
Shirtless.
“Oh, hey,” he said, wiping his hand on a towel, but that wasn’t what she was looking at. No, she was looking at the thick, rippling muscles of his chest and abs and the way his shorts hung low on his hips, showing the V of his groin. She had to make herself look away as he asked, “Am I in your way?”
“No.” She went around him and grabbed a can of cat food out of the cabinet. “You should put a shirt on b
efore you burn your skin with bacon grease.”
He scoffed. “I feel if I am going to eat it, I should be brave when I cook it since it’s so bad for me and all. I’m basically a warrior. Drogo, if you will.”
She snorted as she opened the can. “Drogo? You aim high, my friend,” she said, speaking of the famous and very hot Khal Drogo of the Dothraki on Game of Thrones, a show they had regularly watched together. It had always been one of her favorite nights. They binged with Jace and Avery, eating crappy food and vegging out on the couch. It was a blast. “You’re more of a Jaime Lannister.”
“Whoa, I don’t sleep with my sister,” he yelled and she laughed.
“True, then a Robb Stark. Promised to one, but sleeps with another,” she said, and as soon as she did, she wished she hadn’t. It was rude and uncalled for, especially when he was being nice to her. If anything, it just reiterated that she couldn’t even be with him. He would always be labeled a cheater in her eyes. The guy who broke her heart. Clearing her throat, she lowered the plate to Mr. Right and then cleaned her hands in the sink as the awkward silence filled the room. Though, Mr. Right didn’t care. He ate very happily as Mekena tried to figure out how she was going to get out of there.
Deciding there was no way out, she just turned to walk away as he asked, “Are we still good for tonight after the rehearsal?”
She wasn’t sure why he wanted to speak to her. She was being a bitch, but there was so much hope in his eyes. He needed this…and maybe she did too. “Um, yeah, I guess.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes meeting hers. She had hurt him with that comment, she could see it in his eyes, and that pained her. “I think we need to clear the air.”
Her brows came together. “It’s pretty cut-and-dried, don’t you think?”
“No, it’s not. Not even a little.”
She could only blink as his eyes burned into hers. “Oh.”
“Yeah, and I’d like a chance to explain myself, something I should have done two years ago.”
“Oh,” she said once more as her mind went crazy with what in the world he was going to say. She decided she had no choice; she had to speak to him. “Okay, I’ll meet you here afterward.”
“Cool, thanks,” he said softly, and her heart just ached. She was still being a bitch, yet he thanked her for agreeing to talk to him? Shaking her head, she went to walk away once more, but his voice stopped her. “Like I said last night, you won’t regret it.”
Looking at the back of his head, she sucked in a deep breath. “What’s your endgame, Markus?”
He didn’t turn as he flipped his bacon. “What do you mean?”
Walking to the counter, she leaned her hip to it, looking up at the side of his face. “We haven’t talked to or seen each other in over a year. I wouldn’t even speak to you unless I was screaming, and now we’re going to talk. Okay, so we talk. What do you want after that?”
He looked at her, his eyes narrowing. “What do you want?”
“Closure,” she said simply.
“That’s it?”
She hesitated because she honestly didn’t know what she wanted. She should only want the closure, but a part of her…wanted more. Fuck, no! She wanted closure! “Yes.”
“Then that’s what we’ll get.”
She eyed him. “But is that what you want?”
Meeting her gaze, he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I hurt you. I want to make it right, and I want us to move on. I want us to be happy, because from what I can tell, you haven’t been happy. And I know I haven’t either.”
She didn’t know what to say. How did he know she wasn’t happy? He didn’t know anything about her. The only way he would was if Avery had told him, but Mekena knew Avery wouldn’t do that to her. So how? Was she that transparent? That pathetic? She wasn’t sure, but she was pretty sure she didn’t even know herself any longer because, within seconds, her mouth was moving without her consent. “I’m sorry I kissed you last night. I’m sure that was a little confusing.”
He smiled, his eyes darkening as he took the bacon out of the skillet and put it onto a paper towel by the stove. “Don’t ever apologize for kissing me, sweetheart, especially when we both enjoyed it.”
Her eyes darkened then as her mouth quirked at the side. She didn’t know what he was up to, but it blew her mind how easy it was between them. When she let it be easy… She didn’t allow it that much for obvious and good reasons because it was too painful. She turned, heading toward her room. “I’ll see you tonight, then,” she said when she paused in the doorway.
Turning and leaning against the counter, he took a bite of his bacon and nodded. “Tonight. Have a good day.”
“You too,” she answered before entering her room and shutting the door by leaning against it.
She begged her head to stop swirling, but there was no sign of that happening anytime in the future.
Not when Markus Reeves was playing at her heartstrings.
And to think, she had to go deal with her parents next.
Awesome.
“He wants to talk.”
Avery giggled into the phone, and Mekena rolled her eyes as she drove to her parents’ house. It was early and she was tired, but she had promised, so she was going. Plus, she’d get to see Libby and drive her back to the estate for the test shoot. It was all for the best, but she wasn’t sure if her sister would be at the house. She couldn’t face her sister, not now. Not when she’d agreed to talk to Markus. It was just a nasty reminder, one she didn’t want at that moment. “I need support here.”
“So talk to him. What’s the big deal? You’ve wanted to know why, here is your opportunity.”
Mekena groaned. “I kissed him last night.”
Avery’s gasp filled the line as Mekena rolled her eyes again. “You little minx! Get it, girl! Did it go down?”
“What in the world? No! I kissed him, and he told me we couldn’t do that because I was drunk,” she said, and the regret still stung a little.
“Of course he did, he wouldn’t do that to you. He didn’t want you to regret it.”
“I know, but I accused him of not wanting me, and then I did this thing where I cried that he didn’t want to fuck me or kiss me. And I asked why I wasn’t enough.”
Her voice trailed off as Avery gasped again. “You didn’t!”
“I did, it was pathetic and, I swear, so dramatic.”
“Ew, that blows balls.”
“Big donkey ones.”
“Agreed, so y’all are talking tonight?”
“Yeah, after the rehearsal.”
“Cool.”
“Though, I don’t know what we could have to talk about. It’s all pretty much in your face what happened.”
“I think you’ll think differently once y’all talk.”
Mekena paused. “Wait, what? You know what he wants to talk to me about?” Avery hissed out a curse, and Mekena waited. “Don’t hold out on me, Sinclair.”
Avery laughed. “Shit, yeah, I do, but I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“’Cause I promised Jace.”
“You suck!”
“I know, but really, I think you’ll want to hear it all. From him.”
Shaking her head, Mekena pulled onto her parents’ road. “I asked him what his endgame was. He said whatever I want.”
“So the ball is in your court?”
“Or better yet, the puck is in my zone.”
“Exactly,” Avery laughed. “Do you think you can forgive him?”
“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “And as pathetic as I sound, I sort of want to. I miss him.”
“I know.”
“Am I dumb for that?”
“I don’t know,” Avery said honestly. “To me, Markus has turned out to be great, but he didn’t do to me what he did to you.”
It worried her. She didn’t want to be that girl who forgave and forgot the actions of a cheating bastard. She had always heard once a cheat
er, always a cheater, but that didn’t seem right with Markus. Was she blinded by her love for him? Was she that girl?
“I’m scared, Avery,” she whispered, her heart aching in her chest.
“I know, but I guess…just follow your heart.”
“It leads to him, though.”
“Then what else can you do?”
“Run?”
“You’ve done that. God put y’all together this week for a reason. Maybe roll with it?”
Mekena smiled. “Or I could run.”
“Yeah, but do you really want to do that?”
“No,” she answered, knowing she wouldn’t.
“I guess there’s only one option.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” she agreed, pulling into her parents’ drive. She sighed in annoyance because she had to park in the back since everyone else was taking up the rest of the driveway. “But hey, I’m here. I’ll see you later.”
“All right, have fun.”
“Yeah, we’ll see how that goes. Bye,” she said, hanging up and then tucking her phone into her purse after parking the car. She checked her makeup before she got out, taking her purse with her. Her heart was beating a little out of control, and she chalked it up to the fact that she was constantly thinking about Markus. Almost two years had passed, and she had done so well to ignore her wandering thoughts. But now…now, she couldn’t ignore them if she tried. He was front and center, and she didn’t know how to handle that. Reaching for the front door, she opened it and then realized why her heart was beating so hard.
Skylar was there.
As her sister’s eyes met hers, narrowing as a grin pulled at her lips, Mekena had half a mind to turn around and leave. But her mother grabbed her, hugging her tightly.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hey, Mom,” she said tightly, glaring at her sister. “Why is she here?”
“She’s staying here and wanted to join us.”
Mekena gave her mother a dubious look. “I don’t want to be anywhere near her.”
“I know, but we want to talk this out.”
Mekena’s face scrunched up. “What? There is nothing to talk about.”
“Sure, there is,” her mother said as her father filled the dining room doorframe.