Chapter 9 #2
I’m feeling bold after that performance.
The way the crowd roared for me has me feeling all femme fatale, and I’m going to ride that wave.
Marissa brought me all the bills that Sam said I could keep.
Holy crap, someone threw a couple hundreds up there.
I hand her a twenty for doing me a solid, and she smiles and hugs me.
“Who’s the hottie who couldn’t take his eyes off you? He kind of reminds me of an actor. Girl, jump on that.”
“That’s Mark, and he’s a pig. We can’t stand each other ninety-eight percent of the time.”
Marissa’s eyes crinkle at the corners as if she doesn’t quite fall for that.
“I’m pretty sure there’s a saying about fine lines between love and hate.”
“Hmmm, haven’t heard that one before.”
We both giggle as I thank her and take my ass back to the party. I’m engulfed by support and praise from all my favorite people when I get back. Sydney squeals and tells me how gorgeous I looked up there, then whispers something about a few lessons I need to give her.
I walk over to Mark to grab my purse, but when I reach down to grab said purse, both of our eyes widen when I come in contact with a very hard um…situation. I gulp as he asks to hold onto it for a few more minutes and decide to oblige him.
The smolder in his eyes as we banter has my heart thudding in my chest. I can’t believe that that thing in his pants is all because of me. We can’t stand each other, right?
Neither of us can deny the attraction stirring between us.
Neither of us are willing to accept what it’s clearly doing to us either.
I just can’t. So, saucy as I’m feeling, I tell him I need my purse and take away his life preserver.
His eyes pop wide before squinting as my fingers brush back across him, and I look at him mischievously while acknowledging the impressiveness of his situation.
I can’t lie and call it anything else. I walk away with a catty smirk, hearing him quietly groan as he works to discreetly adjust himself.
???
Back on the bus, we’re headed home toward Sydney’s place.
Not a single one of us is sober enough to drive, and the night has definitely been one for the books.
The hangover will be worth it. Tommy and another one of his friends have been steadily putting on a little pressure for what I’m guessing they think will lead to a hookup.
I even suspect them betting on who will score my number or whatever.
I’m not about to be into that, so I try to stay close to the girls.
Mark and Trystan have both stepped in to nonchalantly take over conversations with them a few times, and I’ve been thankful.
“HOLD ON!” the bus driver hollers, giving us only a split second for it to register before he slams on the brakes.
Several of the guys up front ram into each other and crumble, but a hand snakes around my waist and pulls me backward onto the seats so that I don’t end up in the man pile.
My heart is hammering as the bus driver hollers about drunk idiots jumping out into the middle of the street before asking if everyone is okay.
A collective mass of groans and answers of ‘Yeah, we’re alright’ sound around us, but all I can concentrate on is the feel of a very masculine hand around my waist with another wrapped around my bare upper thigh, steadying me against the length of his hard body.
“You okay?” Mark whispers heatedly against the shell of my ear since it’s loud in here, and I nod my head.
“Thank you for catching me.”
“I wasn’t about to let you land all sprawled out on top of them.
” His thumb makes a little circle on my thigh, and my breath hitches.
“Damn, your skin is soft.” His jaw visibly clenches, and he clears his throat, sitting us up to be a bit more decent.
As if he’s reading my thoughts, he pulls down the edge of my skirt to cover me from showing off my hot pink thong to the party.
“Thank you.”
“Of course. I don’t think anyone saw.”
“Except you.”
“Not even me. I could just feel the way your skirt was bunching.”
“Oh. Okay. Good,” I mumble, a tad embarrassed and flustered more than I care to admit.
“Yup.”
“You can let me go now.”
“Yup,” he answers again, not letting me go.
“Are you okay? Did I crush you?” I ask, wondering genuinely.
“Nope, and nope.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, alarmed. Maybe I did hurt him, and he’s just being too nice to say anything.
“Ava, I’m trying not to picture you in a thong, okay? I’ll be fine, I’m just…struggling,” he mumbles out fast as if he wasn’t quite thinking before he said it. I snicker to myself because I realize that he got his hands on a tad more than just my thigh.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s nothing to be sorry for, I’m just trying to reign it in and be a gentleman.”
So he’s having “ungentlemanly” thoughts now. Nice.
“Stop smirking at me like that.”
“Like what?” I press my hot pink lips together, feigning innocence, and he watches.
“Like you’re enjoying the idea of making me uncomfortable in front of all these people,” he mumbles, slightly agitated.
“Just enjoying as I watch karma finally bite your ass.”
“I’ll bite your ass if I ever get you alone.”
Wait. What? I look at him with wide eyes.
“You just keep pushing me, Ava.”
I swallow hard and climb up from his body in a haphazard rush to go check on the girls.
Back at the house, we all change into comfy clothes.
The guys make a bunch of popcorn and the girls throw a ton of blankets and pillows on the floor and sprawl out.
It’s not long before we settle on “Made of Honor” for the movie.
When we get to a scene that has both, surprise surprise, Grey’s Anatomy actors in it, Jane can’t help but holler out, “Hey, Mark, now they only need you!”
Everyone gets a good chuckle at his expense, and he reaches down from his spot on the couch behind me and tickles the bottom of my foot, making me squeal because I can’t stand that.
I turn from my belly and glare back at him, but when I see the heat simmering in his eyes as his gaze travels up my calves to my jammie-short-clad butt, I pause.
He wants what he sees right now, and that’s me.
His eyes lock with mine, and he shrugs like, ‘Sorry, couldn’t help it’.
I give him the stink eye, turning back to the movie, trying to distract my brain from thinking too hard about tonight and all the ways Mark has acted so differently around me.
The way we quit hating on each other just long enough for the man and woman inside to perk up and notice each other.
Can’t say I hated it. After it finishes, Colin turns on some action movie I’ve never seen before.
It’s more for background noise than anything else.
Sydney’s curled up on the couch sleeping against Colin’s chest while the guys all murmur quietly amongst themselves so as not to wake those sleeping.
Jane and Holly are passed out cold in their places on the floor next to me.
I slip out from between them and make a quick run to the restroom. When I open the door, I’m met with blazing hazel eyes. He’s got his hands braced in the frame like he’s physically holding himself back from doing something he may regret.
“Bathroom’s all yours,” I say breathily, noticing how his nostrils flare as he takes in my tiny shorts and tank.
I slipped off my bra while I was peeing, so my nipples are on indecent levels of display.
I hadn’t expected anyone to be right outside of the door though.
Instead of letting me pass by, he steps into the bathroom, pressing me up against the wall with his chest. A low rumble from his chest vibrates through mine, the contact delicious.
I know my nipples are hard enough for him to feel.
He presses a palm next to the side of my head.
“Are you cold?” he whispers, his voice deeper than I’ve ever heard before. Mark’s head is bent close enough that if I moved a couple of inches, our lips would graze. I suck in a breath, but it stutters out of me as I shake my head.
“No,” I finally find my voice, whispering back, unable to control my erratic breathing which only presses my chest into his a bit more.
Puffs of air pant from my parted lips, a strange need rising inside of me, and I see his jaw tick.
We’re both fighting the attraction so hard, helpless to stop it, and neither is brave enough to cross that line.
“Hey, Mark, finish up man, I gotta–” Tommy walks up to the door, stopping and smiling when he sees us pressed against each other. “Nevermind,” Tommy singsongs, turning away, and Mark forces air from his lungs with exasperation.
“Just give me a minute,” he says through gritted teeth as his gaze burns my retinas.
His palm slides down from beside me, and I take the chance to slip out, the friction of my nipples dragging across his chest sending shudders through me and a soft, barely audible groan from his lips.
I pass by Tommy, who is now sporting a shit-eating, ‘I knew it’ grin, crossing my arms as if I am indeed cold, but we all know better.
Hustling back down the hall, I slip back into my spot between the girls.
Colin and I murmur about a wedding surprise for Sydney for a few minutes.
I notice Mark slip into the kitchen. He comes back out cracking the top of a water bottle open.
His eyes land on mine as he takes a deep pull before settling back in his spot on the couch right next to Colin and behind where I’m lying.
I can physically feel his thoughts, knowing they’re back in that bathroom with my breasts smashed up against him, wondering what would’ve transpired had Tommy not ruined the moment. What in the hell is happening between us? It’s clear neither of us wants this. Right?
I think my eyelids have finally had too much for the night, so I curl up with a pillow on my side.
They flutter open at the feel of someone laying a blanket over me, but I’m too tired to physically turn my head to see who it is.
I just mumble a thank you and curl up further into my ball.
My eyelids flutter back and forth, fighting sleep since my subconscious still wants to know who covered me.
I flip over toward Jane. This gives me a better view of the guys still talking quietly with each other.
Mark’s lounging with his arm slung across the back of the couch, occasionally bending it at the elbow to rest his head against his fingertips.
He’s listening to Trystan and Garrett, but his eyes keep floating between me and the movie.
He nonchalantly slides his foot beneath my covers, pressing it against mine, and I don’t fight it.
I just enjoy the touch. He slides down further into the couch cushions, getting more comfortable, the action looking innocent as can be.
It’s anything but. His foot traces up the back of my calves.
I surprise him more by tucking my legs up closer to my ass, trapping his foot between my thighs.
I hear his intake of breath when his foot is resting snug up against my warmest parts.
He doesn’t push his limits and try anything.
I don’t know whether I’m more frustrated or relieved.
To be honest, I think we’re both just enjoying the intimacy of the secret snuggle and are too tired for anything else.
Right before sleep finally claims me, the last thing I see is Mark’s hazel eyes staring back into mine.
The yearning in them renders me momentarily breathless.
Tomorrow, we can go back to hating each other. For tonight, I’ll just let it be.