by Liz Lincoln
Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and she was leaving around four o’clock to make the two-hour drive to her parents’ house. When she got back, she needed to start looking for a new place to live. She couldn’t afford this house on her own, and rather than find a new roommate, she might as well let the place go to someone who needed all the accessibility features.
When they last talked, Celia had been flexible about the potential start date. It would inevitably be a few weeks, with her being in the hospital. So Bree had plenty of time after the holidays to see Marcus. Trying to squeeze in lunch, or even coffee, before she left tomorrow would inevitably stress her out.
Under her hand, her phone pinged to indicate another new text.
Marcus: I miss you.
She read the message at least a dozen times before dropping her phone onto the bed. Her chest ached in a way unrelated to anxiety. She’d been doing a lot better now that her biggest trigger was in the past. Back to manageable levels instead of constantly feeling on edge.
She shoved to her feet and quickly dug out clothes. She was not going to cry, dammit.
Except she missed him too. A lot.
Before she could talk herself into and out of it twenty-seven times, she picked up her phone and tapped out a quick reply.
Bree: Pick me up tomorrow at eleven.
*
—
Marcus could remember in high-definition detail the last time he’d been this nervous. The fourth game of his rookie season, Coach had tapped him for the start. For the Sunday night prime-time game. He played in each of the other three games, but starting was different. Sunday Night Football was different.
As he ran out of the tunnel to boos from the Stallions’ home crowd, he wanted to yell at them, he wanted to whoop with excitement, he wanted to puke his guts out. The Stallions got the ball first, so he’d paced the sidelines nervously as they marched down the turf and got a field goal. Then it was his turn. He’d lined up on the left side, like he always did. Got in his stance. He no longer wanted to yell or whoop; he just wanted to puke. The crowd noise was an annoying buzz in his head, but he focused on his quarterback and his center, and when the ball was snapped, he made the play, blocking the Stallions’ nose tackle so the Dragons’ running back had a hole. Three plays later, he caught a pass and made a seventeen-yard play. After that, everything fell into place.
As he turned onto Bree’s street, he could only hope today’s nerves would give way to him doing and saying the right things so that everything with Bree would fall into place. He was so goddamned in love with her, and he couldn’t even think about what he would do if she closed the door on them.
He pulled into her driveway, put the car in park, and killed the engine. He wasn’t used to this kind of insecurity and he hated it. But this had been the only way he could think of to prove that he understood why she was upset, understood what he’d done wrong. Understood that even though his motives had been good, his actions fell short. But simply telling her that he was sorry and he got it felt inadequate.
So he would show her that he wanted her to be in charge. That if they were together, she would be in the driver’s seat as much as he was.
He got out of the car and headed for the front door. It had snowed the previous night, and the ramp leading to her door hadn’t been shoveled. It was still snowing lightly, lazy flakes drifting down from the sky. But it wasn’t too cold, the temperature hovering around thirty. Maybe they could go for a walk down at the lakefront. Surely the county had cleared the path down there.
No, he didn’t get to make that decision. This was all about her, what she wanted.
Shutting down his nerves the way he had in that football game, Marcus rang the doorbell. A moment later he heard footsteps, then the door opened and there was Bree. Beautiful, as always. So fucking beautiful. Her hair sported streaks of red and green, making him smile.
She pushed open the screen door for him and gestured him in. “I’ll just grab my coat.”
“Sure.” He stepped inside and stood by the door, watching her move. It felt like a million years had passed since the first time he stood in this place. He remembered every intimate second of that evening in his mind. The first time he felt the touch of her breath on his face. The first time he held her in his arms. The first time his lips brushed hers.
He probably had fallen in love with her a little bit that night. And hadn’t stopped since.
The strength of the memory had him adjusting his stance and racing to think of something that would turn him off. The refs fucking up calls on critical plays that ultimately changed the outcome of the game. Yeah. Big-time turnoff.
Bree turned to him and gave him a hesitant smile. She looked adorable wrapped up in her Harry Potter hat, scarf, and gloves. And though her expression was guarded, her brown eyes were bright, like she was as hopeful about this lunch as he was. Or at least he could tell himself that.
He returned her smile, but before he could indicate they should leave, Diablo wandered in with a loud meow. Marcus crouched, and though his bad knee protested, he waited for the cat to mosey over to his outstretched hand.
“Marow,” Diablo said, bumping his head against Marcus’ hand.
Marcus scratched the cat’s chin. “How’s it going, big guy?”
Diablo’s answer was to swat at Marcus’ hand.
Bree gave a startled laugh. “I guess he’s in an asshole mood today.”
Shrugging, Marcus stood. “We all have those days. You ready?”
Bree motioned toward the door. “After you.”
As they walked down the ramp nearly side by side, Marcus pulled his keys out of his pocket. He held them out toward Bree. “Here you go.”
She looked at the keys dangling from his hand, then frowned at Marcus. “What…”
Stopping next to the hood of his car, Marcus drew in a deep breath. Moment of truth.
He took her hand and wrapped her fingers around the keys. “I can tell you that I’m sorry, beyond my ability to express it, for fucking up. I can tell you that I understand why you’re mad, that I realize I should’ve asked you first if you wanted me to talk to Celia. I can say I won’t do it again. I can say all those things. They’re all true. Maybe you believe me. But maybe you don’t. So this is me showing you. It’s not a great way, but it’s the best I could think of. I’m hoping you give me a little leeway on that. Anyway, you’re driving, you’re in charge. You decide where we go, what we do, and when were done. And I won’t give my input unless you ask. My only request is that if we go past twelve thirty, we eat something.”
Too nervous to wait for her response, Marcus rounded the front of the car to get into the passenger side. Hoping harder than he’d ever hoped before that he hadn’t fucked this up beyond repair.
*
—
Bree stared at the keys in her palm. She was in charge.
The last bits of her anger, hurt, and resistance melted away.
She sank into the leather seat, still warm from Marcus’ body. She had to scoot it forward and lower the steering wheel, then she put her hands on the wheel and paused to get her bearings.
Not only was she in the driver’s seat metaphorically, she was literally in the driver’s seat of a motherfucking Tesla. She couldn’t hold back an excited little squeal.
Marcus chuckled. “So you’re saying this works for you?”
Bree glanced over at him, and for the first time since she opened her door, really looked at him. Behind his wide smile and dimples, she could see the strain around his eyes. This normally confident, sometimes cocky man was nervous.
Over her. Heady stuff.
She knew where she wanted to go. She’d initially thought a restaurant, or maybe a coffee shop. But now, that wasn’t right. She started the car and pulled out. When she got to the corner, she turned toward the lakefront.
“My God, this handles like a dream. Like a physicist’s wet dream.” Wait, did she say that out loud?
Marc
us gave a startled laugh. “I’m never going to look at my car the same way again.”
It would be worth getting back together with him just for more chances to drive this car. Okay, maybe not for the car. But as long as she was in love with him, the car was an extrasweet bonus.
Within ten minutes, she turned a corner and pulled onto his street. The scanner for his condo’s garage was mounted on his windshield, so she was able to simply pull in.
“My place?”
“I figure we can talk better here,” she said. Oh no, what if he thought she just wanted goodbye sex? Once they talked, she wasn’t opposed to makeup sex, but they definitely needed to talk first.
She parked the car in his designated spot and turned off the engine. “For the record, if I just wanted one last fuck, we could’ve done that at my house.” As soon as the words were out, she cringed. She was so bad at this.
Marcus barked out another startled laugh. “Good to know.”
Nice job, Bree. Way to make things even more awkward.
Their footsteps echoed off the concrete walls as they walked to the elevator. Once inside, she was tempted to ease the discomfort by simply kissing him. Because even more than sex, she wanted that. To hold him close and feel his heartbeat syncing up with hers.
He turned to look at her and caught her staring at his mouth.
There wasn’t enough air in this elevator. She couldn’t breathe. She could feel her body reaching for him, and to stop herself, she blurted, “Plus, I really want to meet Dorito.”
Marcus blinked at her. Blinked again. “My cat. Right. Dorito.”
She smiled, forcing it through the awkwardness. “Those are my biggest junk food weakness.”
The elevator reached his floor with a smooth stop, and the doors swished open.
Marcus put his hand on the small of her back as they stepped into the hall, and a thrill shot through Bree. Despite all the layers between them, she still craved his touch.
“I know. I didn’t remember until after I’d decided on the name, but that’s probably why I thought of it. Though I’m a big fan of Doritos too. Unfortunately, I can’t eat a whole lot of junk.” He unlocked the door to his condo and pushed it open. “Let’s see what kind of damage she’s done. I don’t understand how four pounds can wreck so much stuff. “
Bree laughed, and it was finally genuine. No surprise, no awkwardness. It gave her hope that they could work this out.
Marcus gestured for her to precede him into the condo. Immediately, Bree saw a flash of orange dart out from under the couch and race to the kitchen. The blur skidded into the island and slammed against the surface with a yelp.
She winced, crossing the room to the kitten. Dorito stared up at her with big green eyes and Bree’s heart absolutely melted.
“Mewp,” Dorito said.
Bree scooped her up and cradled her against her chest. Dorito immediately started purring. “She is the sweetest thing ever.” Bree nuzzled her cheek against the kitten’s fluffy head. So soft.
Yes, she was here to try to patch things up with Marcus. And she’d get there. In a minute. She needed kitty snuggles first.
Dorito knocked her head against Bree’s chin, demanding more attention.
“If you told me a year ago, hell, a month ago, I’d have a kitten, I’d have said you were crazy.” Marcus draped his coat over the back of his sofa and joined Bree near the kitchen. “Pretty sure this is your fault.”
“How do you figure?”
“Diablo’s a cool dude. I never considered a cat before, but a dog’s too much work given how much I travel and that I don’t have a yard. And a fish or a turtle just isn’t really the same.” He joined in petting Dorito, and she started purring so hard her little body shook.
“I will absolutely take the blame for this little cutie,” Bree said, grinning.
Marcus’ own smile softened as he traced his finger down the slope of Bree’s cheekbone, sending a shiver through her. “This, right here. I’ve missed this. Your smile makes me…I don’t even know. Happy.”
His naked vulnerability made Bree’s chest ache. She couldn’t find words to respond, and her throat was so tight she probably couldn’t speak anyway. So she simply covered his hand with her own where it rested on her cheek. And tried to tell him with her expression that she felt the same way.
Right before the moment stretched into awkwardness, Marcus stepped back. He rounded the counter into the kitchen. “You want something to drink? I need to go grocery shopping, so I don’t have a ton to make for lunch. We can get takeout, if you want to stay that long.”
She hadn’t thought that far ahead. And how long she stayed was entirely dependent on where the conversation went. Giving a vote to optimism, she said, “Pizza?”
“Sure.”
While Marcus called the pizza place, Bree continued to snuggle the kitten and removed her jacket. She put it on the couch with Marcus’.
“They’re pretty backed up, so it’s gonna be at least an hour.” He left his phone on the counter and came back to Bree.
She set the cat on the floor. Dorito rubbed against Marcus’ leg, then raced off in a flash of orange fur.
Marcus seemed to hesitate, then he reached for Bree’s hand and led her toward the couch. She sat, angling herself toward him. He sat next to her, not quite in her space, but close. He propped his elbow on the back of the couch, facing her. If he wanted, he could extend his hand and touch her. But for the moment, he didn’t.
She understood why he didn’t. They still had things to talk about, but she craved his touch nevertheless.
“I’m not very good at this, but I think I said everything I have to say back at your place.” His expression looked pained, his features tight as he looked at her. “I realized I was doing to you what my parents have been doing with me, and that’s not OK. And while it wasn’t exactly like your dad and brothers, or your ex, I understand it still hit the same buttons for you. I am so sorry for that, more than I can say.”
He’d said a lot and all his words were the things she needed to hear. He hadn’t said the one thing she wanted to hear more than anything, but, well, there was still time for that. He didn’t have to love her yet.
“But if there’s something else I need to say to convince you how sorry I am, and that I just want to be with you, and I won’t do things for you or on your behalf without telling you first—asking you first. If there’s something else you need, please tell me.” Now he did touch her, his hand reaching out and cupping her cheek. “I never want to hurt you, Bree.”
She leaned her face into him. Even that small, tender touch warmed her. Shifting closer to him, she said, “There’s nothing else you need to say. That night at the game, I wasn’t just reacting to you. I was reacting to Bryant and Kevin and Stefon and my dad and my brothers and probably every other guy who’s ever wronged me back to the boy who stole my allowance at the park in first grade. The way I handled it wasn’t fair—”
A few dozen needles stabbed into Bree’s scalp. “What the—oh my God!” What the hell was going on? “Ow!”
Marcus surged to his feet and leaned over her. He reached for something above her head. “Dorito, what the hell?”
Her hair tugged as Marcus extricated the cat from it, but at least the initial pain receded quickly. It wasn’t the first time a kitten had launched itself at her head. When she first got him, Diablo had loved to attack her hair.
“Imma lock you in the bathroom,” he told the cat as he dropped her to the floor. She raced off to chase something else.
“Diablo’s been known to climb the shower curtain and pull the whole thing down.”
With gentle fingertips, Bree felt around her scalp to make sure nothing was bleeding.
Marcus’ fingers slid into her hair, sifting through it as he leaned over her. “You okay?”
Her scalp started to tingle and shivers ran down her neck. In that moment, she was better than okay. She was at eye level with his chest, his muscles o
utlined by the fitted T-shirt he wore. She couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to touch him.
His hands stilled in her hair. When she looked up at him, he was watching her. The air around them became heavy, the energy between them almost palpable.
She slid her hand up his chest and around the back of his neck. “Kiss me,” she breathed.
He practically fell on her in his rush to comply with her request. His lips crushed against hers as his big body came down and pressed her into the couch cushions. His fingers tangled into her hair the same way his tongue tangled with hers.
So good.
Bree arched up to meet him, wrapping her arms around his solid chest. He trailed his mouth over her cheek and down her neck, nibbling at the spot where it met her shoulder, where he knew it drove her wild.
“Yes. This.” Her voice sounded breathy and desperate, but she didn’t care.
They slid farther down the couch, Marcus’ body half draped over Bree’s. She tried to touch him everywhere, finally settling for sliding her hands up the back of his shirt so she could feel his smooth, hot skin.
Abruptly he ripped his mouth from hers and went up on one elbow. She managed to drag her lids open so she could see him. His eyes shone, as did his lips. Looking at him, seeing his desire for her, only made her want him more.
“I do have one more thing to say. No, two.” He ran his free hand from her cheek, down her neck, over her shoulder, and down her arm until he could hold her hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed her palm. “First of all, I’m so fucking proud of you for getting your PhD, despite everything your advisor did this fall.”
Happiness unfurled in Bree’s chest. She didn’t even need him to love her yet. This feeling and his smile as he spoke those words were enough for now.