17. MARCUS
CHAPTER 17
MARCUS
The smell of coffee and freshly baked pastries hits me as I step into the cafe. It’s my usual spot, a small joint tucked into the corner of the block, where the line is long but the caffeine is worth it. I’m running late today, something Jill reminded me of before I dropped her off. Don’t forget to eat, Dad, she’d said, rolling her eyes like I’m some sort of lost cause.
The line shuffles forward, and I glance around, half-distracted, when I see her—Olivia. I blink a couple of times to make sure I’m not imagining her. She’s standing by the sugar station, fiddling with one of those tiny cream packets, her lips pursed in concentration. My stomach tightens involuntarily. Of course, she’s here.
I contemplate slipping out unnoticed, but she looks up, and it’s too late. Her eyes widen slightly before recognition softens her expression.
“Marcus,” she says, tilting her head. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I reply, forcing casualness into my tone as I approach. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
We haven’t really spoken since we had one of the most amazing nights of my life, and she slipped out later.
“This place is kind of my go-to for survival fuel,” Olivia says sheepishly.
I glance at her cup, already topped with a mountain of whipped cream. “And here I thought you were just naturally high-energy.”
She laughs lightly, and the sound curls through my chest. “You’ve clearly never seen me without my morning coffee.”
The line moves again, and I step out, gesturing toward an empty table near the window. “Want to sit?”
“Sure.” She shrugs, picking up her drink and following me.
There’s a beat of silence after we sit, the kind of pause that’s less about discomfort and more about unspoken things hovering between us. Things like the night at the bar, the way her lips felt undermine, and the fact that I haven’t stopped thinking about her since.
“So,” Olivia says, breaking the silence, “I assume you’re not here for the whipped cream monstrosity I call coffee?”
“Not really my style,” I admit, smirking. “Black, no sugar.”
She grimaces playfully. “Figures.”
Another silence stretches, and Olivia fiddles with her cup. “For what it’s worth,” she begins, “I’m glad you’re not acting crazy like Ethan and Jax.”
I stiffen slightly, my mind catching on her words. Crazy like Ethan and Jax. Does that mean she’s noticed their attention? Is she flattered by it? Or worse—interested? I should say something, maybe joke it off, but my throat feels tight. Instead, I just nod.
“Well, someone’s got to be the adult,” I manage to say.
“That’s you for sure.” She squints at me. “You know when I was younger, I wanted to be a doctor, just like you.”
I chuckle, but it’s another reminder of how inappropriate my relationship with her really is.
It feels good to sit with her, but the unspoken tension between us is impossible to ignore. I clear my throat, trying to find the right words, the kind that doesn’t immediately make her bolt.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” I start, leaning forward slightly. “The other night... at my apartment.”
Her cheeks flush instantly, and I don’t miss the way her fingers tighten around her cup. She avoids my gaze, glancing out the window like it holds some kind of escape.
“Marcus...” she says, a soft warning in her tone.
I hold up a hand, offering a small smile. “I’m not trying to make things awkward. It’s just... well, it happened. I think we should at least acknowledge it.
“I just… I’ve been thinking about it. A lot.”
She looks down at her coffee, her fingers tightening around the cup. “It was… unexpected.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I say, trying to keep my tone light, though my chest tightens with the weight of her words. “But it wasn’t just... random for me. It wasn’t just…anything.”
I want to say more. I need to say more. It isn’t just Jax and Ethan; it’s me, as well. I like you more than I can care to admit. But I can’t tell her that. Knowing her, it’s only going to drive her away.
Olivia finally meets my eyes, and for a moment, there’s something raw and vulnerable there. But just as quickly, she looks away, her gaze shifting over my shoulder.
“Oh!” she says suddenly, waving toward someone in the distance.
I turn to follow her gaze and spot a small boy, no older than eight, standing near the sugar station. His oversized coat and beanie make him look even smaller, his wide eyes darting nervously as he clutches a hot chocolate cup like it’s the most precious thing in the world.
“That’s Adam,” Olivia says, standing up. “We met him at the skating rink.”
I squint. “He looks… familiar for some reason.”
Olivia doesn’t answer right away, but waves at the boy. “Hey, Adam,” she says, her voice warm. “Remember me?”
The boy’s face lights up when he sees her, and he walks up to our table. “You’re the nice lady who helped me with my skates!”
“That’s right.” She grins, ruffling his beanie. “How’s it going?”
“Good,” he says shyly, glancing around like he’s expecting someone.
“Is your cousin here?” Olivia asks.
Before he can answer, a sharp voice cuts through the coffee shop. “Adam, what are you doing?”
Both Olivia and I turn to see her—Charlie Green, standing a few feet away, her arms crossed and her face contorted in an expression of pure annoyance.
I keep staring at the kid. There’s something about him that I can’t quite place.
“Auntie Char!” Adam says, running to her and grabbing her hand. “She’s my friend!”
Olivia’s jaw tightens, and she straightens to her full height. “Auntie?” she echoes, her voice carefully neutral.
Charlie’s eyes narrow as they dart between Olivia and me. “What are you two doing here?”
“Having coffee,” I say evenly, though my mind is racing. “You?”
“I’m here with my nephew,” she says, her tone clipped. “And I’d appreciate it if you stayed away from him.”
“Charlie,” Olivia begins, her voice calm but firm, “Adam approached me. We were just saying hello.”
“Funny,” Charlie snaps, her lips curling into a sneer, “how you always seem to be around causing trouble.”
“Trouble?” Olivia says, her tone sharpening. “If I recall, the only person causing trouble has been you.”
“Let’s not do this,” I interject, stepping between them. “Not here.”
“Charlie,” Olivia begins, her voice calm but firm, “Adam approached me. We were just saying hello.”
I can’t stop looking at Adam—that dark brown hair that’s shaggy on the sides, that deep blue eyes.
“We’re here for coffee, just like you,” Olivia says.
“Stay away from my nephew, all of you,” Charlie replies with more venom than I expected.
“We weren’t even doing anything,” I say. “And definitely not bothering him.”
Olivia tugs at my shirt. “Marcus, let’s go?—”
“But we…” I start.
She shakes her head. “No, let’s go.”
I give Charlie Green one last look before we walk out of the coffee shop.
Olivia pulls her coat tighter around herself, her brow furrowed in thought. She’s quiet for a moment, her steps measured, and I can almost see the wheels turning in her head.
“Did you notice something about Adam?” she asks suddenly, her voice breaking the silence.
I glance at her, raising an eyebrow. “You mean besides how overprotective she was of him?”
Olivia nods. “Exactly. But it seems like more than just a knee-jerk reaction. It was... intense.”
I think back to Charlie’s sharp tone, her almost frantic need to pull Adam away from us. “Now that you mention it,” I say slowly, “it did feel like she was guarding something.” I pause. “And the fact that Adam looks so much like someone I know…”
“Exactly!” Olivia exclaims, turning to face me, her eyes wide. “I said the same thing to Jax at the rink. It’s been bugging me ever since.”
We continue walking, but Olivia’s pace quickens, her movements more purposeful now, as if she’s chasing a thought that’s just out of reach.
“What are you getting at?” I ask, falling into step beside her.
She stops abruptly, her eyes narrowing in focus. “I think I have a suspicion.”
I frown. “A suspicion about what?”
Olivia hesitates, glancing around as if the street is suddenly teeming with spies. “I need to talk to my lawyer first,” she says, her voice dropping. “But I think I know why Charlie Green wants to hurt us so badly.”