3
Mark
I look over at the horrified expression on Ava’s face as she contemplates how to best answer my question.
“You didn’t have to step in.”
“Oh, yes, I did.”
“Why?”
“I wasn’t going to let him rattle you like that. I was just coming back up the other side of the aisle when I overheard him say that insane shit about how you’re supposed to be used to a period by now. Did the fucker not have any sisters?”
I shake my head no at him, and he huffs. He still looks pissed as hell.
“That explains a lot. I think every guy should have a sister or two. It teaches you a plethora of things you’d never imagine. I could always tell in school which guys did and didn’t have sisters.”
“I don’t know what I saw in him. I was younger and more naive. I know I deserve more now.”
“I’m glad you realize that. Never forget it. Even when I rattle you, and I do enjoy rattling you, I wouldn’t ever take it that far. You may get under my skin, and we may not be very fond of each other, but I’m not cruel.”
We both sit in silence, looking out the windshield in order to avoid the awkwardness the confined space provides. I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Calling me a prude is cruel. He used to call me that,” she whispers as I turn to look out the window at the houses we pass. Seconds tick by. The air feels thick with tension.
“I’m sorry. I won’t ever say it again.”
“Thank you, Mark.”
I nod in acknowledgement, pressing my lips together hard.
“How did you know what to say when you turned around? Did Colin tell you details?” she asks, slightly embarrassed.
“No, Colin didn’t give me any details other than him telling you to your face that he found you to be a boring pru–...fuck. He did tell me that he called you that, and I’m just remembering. I feel like such an asshole!”
I look over at her, because dangit, I am an asshole. How could I forget that? Then I turned around and called her the same thing? No wonder she hates me. She doesn’t say anything, just waits for me to continue.
“Anyways, he had that kind of vibe. The whole, ‘my way or the highway’ vibe. He didn’t let you express yourself a whole hell of a lot did he?”
“No,” she answers softly as if she’s holding back tears. Shit. If she cries, it’s going to take everything I have to not go back and hit the jerk in the face.
“I found him in my bed jacking off while his secretary was riding his face.”
My jaw drops as I stare out the windshield. For a good thirty seconds. I finally shut my yap and look over at her. She’s looking at me like she’s a tad amused that she rendered me speechless.
“No crass remark?”
“There’s nothing funny about that.”
“I’m glad you recognize that. He told me he strayed because I was boring.
When I told him that he made it clear he was the boss in the bedroom and that he didn’t want me to speak up about my wants, he told me I should’ve still taken the initiative.
Anytime I attempted to speak up or try new things, he’d laugh and ask why the hell I wanted to.
Said he’d take care of all my “needs” and that he knew what I wanted.
He most certainly never asked me to ride his face. ”
“And you stayed?” I ask incredulously, trying not to think too much about Ava riding anyone’s face.
“Like I said, I was younger and naive. Stupid, really.”
“You’re not stupid. You just wanted love.”
She inhales sharply, and I know I’ve struck a few raw nerves on her already awful day. I don’t need to add anymore to it.
“Well, as awful as I imagine it was, he did you a favor. You would’ve been miserable with him.”
“I know it. It makes me so angry that I still let him get to me like that.”
“How often do you run into him?”
“I’ve surprisingly only run into him a handful of times since.”
“Thank goodness for that. Is he always that pleasant?”
“Sometimes he acts as if nothing ever happened and we’re just two old friends that have run into each other.”
“I don’t know which is more awkward.”
“Right?”
Because this conversation is getting too real for me, I can’t help but fall back on my good ol charm she just loves.
“So, I just gotta know…”
She groans like I drive her crazy, and I might like it a little too much.
“What do you just have to know?”
“Would you have done it?”
“Done what?”
“Would you have ridden his face had he asked you to?”
“Damn straight.”
A wicked grin erupts across my face.
“Thatta girl.”
“You’re still a pig.”
“You’re still stuck with me.”
“Yeah, yeah… Get me home. I have a date with some ice cream.”
???
I get Ava home in one piece and carry her stuff inside. This place is nice. Homey. Cute. It definitely suits her. Colin won’t be here for another solid twenty minutes.
“You in the mood for pepperoni?”
“I’m not about to infringe on your pizza.”
“It’ll thaw by the time I get it back to my place.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. Let me make us the pizza. Colin still won’t be here for at least twenty more minutes. In fact,” I hold up my finger, pull out my phone and text him. “I just told him I was feeding you.” My phone buzzes. “He said to text him when I’m ready for him to come grab me.”
“Gah… Now I really feel bad. Colin’s waiting on me too!”
“Nonsense. I don’t want the pizza to go bad, and now you get fed too. Win-win if you ask me.”
She blows out a breath in defeat, and I take that as my cue to get to work.
I’m sure I look interesting, all contrast up against the whimsical-cottage feel of this kitchen.
To me, it’s just another kitchen. I don’t know if she realizes it, but I’m watching her out of the corner of my eye just as much as she’s watching me.
She’s intriguing to watch. Turning the knob on the oven, I let that preheat while I make myself busy washing my hands.
I take a second to dry them well before tossing the hand towel over my shoulder and moving around the kitchen, acquainting myself as if it’s a new friend.
“You seem at ease in my kitchen even though you’ve never been in it before.”
I wave the comment off like it’s nothing.
“Meh. It’s second nature. I grew up cooking. My parents own a restaurant downtown.”
I slide the pizza in, rubbing my palms together after closing the door.
“Oh? Which one?”
“Marcketti’s.”
“Holy moly, I love that place! Why am I just now connecting it to you?”
“Well, you’ve never had a reason to.”
“True… Mark Marcketti. What’s your full name?”
She’s got quite a curious mind.
“Marcus Alessandro Marcketti.”
“Do you speak Italian as well?”
“Certo che sì.” Of course, yes.
I lean on my elbows against the island top, resting my chin on top of fisted hands, studying her.
“I’ve misread you.”
“Oh?” she asks me, wide-eyed like she doesn’t recognize the man speaking. I guess I can’t blame her.
“Just wanted to tell you that I was wrong. That I’m sorry again. By the way, this home suits you perfectly. I like it for you.”
She blinks several times before swallowing spit. I stand straight and walk to her fridge, reaching inside to grab a water bottle. After cracking the top, I hand it to her. She looks confused, as if she’s surprised I noticed a need and took care of it without asking. I’m just observant.
“Uh, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
“You’ve had a shitty day, got your period, and had to face your jerk of an ex who was keen on humiliating you. I’m not going to add to that tonight. Go get your comfy clothes on. I’ll watch the pizza. Let somebody else take care of you for a few minutes, yeah?”
Completely dumbstruck by my kindness, she nods once and slides from her barstool, walking back toward her bedroom.
I have to admit, she’s probably wondering if I’ve been abducted by aliens and something else is inhabiting my body.
She’s never met the real me yet. I’m very selective on who gets the “real” me.
???
Ava
Who is that man in my kitchen? I wonder, shaking my head as I mosey to my bedroom.
I grab my things, slipping on an extra soft tee with some black leggings and making quick work of my bathroom duties before returning to the kitchen.
Sitting down on the barstool, I throw my hair up in a messy bun, pulling out a few tendrils by my ears.
When I look up, his hazel eyes are on me, and a wave of shyness flitters across my skin.
There’s no reason to be shy. Come on now. Channel your inner Jane.
“Bella,” he whispers under his breath so quietly he probably thinks I didn’t hear it. Now I’ll have to research it. “Now, isn’t that better?” he asks, setting slices of pizza on plates.
“Mmm, much better.”
“Here’s some pizza. Take it to the couch. Pick a movie. I’ll bring your drink, ice cream, and a spoon.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he tsks me and shoos me out of the kitchen with his hands. Plopping down onto the couch, I get comfy and turn on my tv. While waiting for Netflix to load, I pull up an Italian translator on my phone and type in the word bella.
Beautiful.
He called me beautiful.
I blush harder than I’ve blushed in a long time.
The smug bastard called me beautiful.
Maybe there’s a lot more to Marcus than what meets the eye.
It’s too early to say for certain. He walks around the couch and sets things down on the coffee table in front of us.
Leaning over me, he turns on a lamp for a smidge of light.
Then the man goes and grabs a blanket and unfolds it over my lap.
I am utterly bewildered. Again, who the hell is this guy? And what is happening?
He plops down on the other side of the couch and pulls out his phone.
After typing, he sets it down on his thigh and rests his elbow on the arm of the sofa.
He leans his head against a few fingers pressed next to his temple as if in contemplation as he watches me eat a slice of pepperoni while chewing on his own.
I guess we’re both trying to figure out who the other is tonight.
“Good choice of ice cream.” He hitches his chin toward my cookies and cream. “You get your chocolate and vanilla that way.”
“Chocolate marshmallow would’ve been better, but my typical go-to was out.”
He smirks and looks at the tv.
“What you planning to watch?”
“Not sure. My stomach zeroed in on the food, and I’m trying to still figure out who I let into my house.”
“No worries. It’s still me. I’m just not feeling the feisty banter tonight.”
“You don’t let very many people in, do you?”
His phone buzzes, and he picks it up, sighing when he reads the message, then looks back up at me.
“No… I don’t.”
He stands and grabs the empty plate from my hand, taking it to the kitchen to refill before bringing it back to me.
“Colin’s here. I’m sorry that you had one hell of a day, and I hope that I made it a little more tolerable at the end. Get some rest. I expect snarky banter the next time I see you.”
“Thank you, Mark.”
“You bet.”
He lets himself out the front door, and I just sit there staring at it as if it were my TV. What the hell just happened? I am truly confused. He just admitted that he doesn’t let very many people in, but for a few short minutes, he let me in.