Chapter 33 #2
I stare at him before a giggle slips free.
“I just meant you’re very—” I glance at Marcus, who’s giving me a dark look.
“Easy on the eyes.” Marcus growls low in his throat, and I shoot him a bratty smirk.
“Plus, being part of a throuple seems to run in Marcus’s family.
” I give Marcus a nudge with my shoulder as I say it, grinning when Norah throws back her head and laughs loudly.
James’s eyes widen. “Really?” he asks, looking at Marcus for confirmation.
He rolls his eyes. I nod, giving James a small smile. “Oh yeah, his stepsister and his brother are in poly relationships—with other people,” I clarify. “Not each other. I fully expect them to have their own reality special on Netflix any day now.”
Norah gives Marcus a sultry wink. “What do you say, muscles? Want to join us?”
James scoffs. “He’s too short for you.”
“Hey!” Marcus protests. “I’m six-foot-three.”
Norah pulls a hand through her long hair with a teasing smile. “No, he’s right. I don’t normally date under six-four.”
“You didn’t seem to mind when we met,” he sulks.
She winks again. “You know me, love. I like to bend the rules sometimes. Even my own.”
Their banter eases the tension in my stomach.
“How did you meet?” I ask.
Norah’s eyes light up and Marcus groans. She leans forward, resting her manicured hands on the table. “Marcus was just a nineteen-year-old babe when I met him at a bar in Ohio.”
“Ohio?”
“I was there for my grandmother’s funeral,” Marcus interjects.
“He stuck out like a sore thumb in his flannel and ripped jeans, and his hair was longer back then—like a wet dream from the nineties.”
I stare at him. “You had long hair?”
He gives me a rueful smile. “I told you I went through a grunge-rock phase. But—” He points at her. “You stuck out too, dressed to the nines like some sort of model. It was a sports bar, for Christ’s sake.”
Norah waves her hand dismissively. “I saw him in his lumberjack cosplay glory and had to talk to him. He was trying to order a Rainier from the bar, which of course, the bartender from small-town Ohio had never heard of.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I see your taste in beer has improved.”
“Gimme a break. I was nineteen.”
“Anyway, I told him that I didn’t peg him for a beer-drinker but rather guessed he’d order a Mike’s Hard Lemonade.”
Marcus looks affronted. “Can you imagine? I mean, nothing against Mike’s Hard Lemonade drinkers.”
James shakes his head with a laugh. “She likes to fuck with people. It’s her love language.”
“So it was just a random hookup?” I look at Marcus. “That’s so unlike you.”
“I randomly hooked up with you,” he points out, taking a sip of his beer.
“And you freaked the fuck out,” I deadpan.
“I freaked the fuck out because you’re a guy,” he says, suddenly looking guilty. “Because you turned what I thought I knew about myself on its head.”
Norah’s eyes zero in on Marcus’s, and she gives him a small smile. “And what about now, darling? Have you figured yourself out?”
Marcus shrugs. “I’m bi.” His eyes shift to mine and soften when he says it, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and I have to admit that I didn’t expect it to come from him so easily—especially because he walked right back into the closet at Charlie’s going away party.
Norah’s smile grows. “I’m so happy for you, Marcus.
” She reaches across the table and gives his hand a squeeze.
Then, she looks at me. “To answer your question, it was a random hookup—sort of. After several drinks at the bar, we went back to my hotel, which also turned out to be Marcus’s hotel, where he was staying with his parents.
And not only that, on the same floor, just a few doors down.
” She snickers. “It was like being in high school again, sneaking around because he was afraid his stepmom would see him with a mysterious older woman.”
Marcus looks flustered. “We didn’t even really hook up. We just fooled around a bit.”
Norah’s eyes twinkle. “He’s right, actually. We fooled around, and then we stayed up all night talking.” She taps her chin. “What was it we talked about, love?”
“Norah . . .” There’s a warning note in his voice, and I immediately push my hand over his lips so she can finish.
“Oh, right,” she says with an impish grin. “He told me all about this boy he called Peter Parker. I could hardly get him to talk about anything else.”
My mouth falls open. “What?” I drop my hand as I turn to look at Marcus, who refuses to meet my eyes. I glance back at her doubtfully. “That was eleven years ago.”
Norah looks at me kindly. “You understand now, don’t you?
You have no reason to be jealous of anyone, darling.
” She leans in like she’s telling me a secret.
“I’ve never seen Marcus look at anyone the way he looks at you—the way he’s always looked at you—like you’re the only person in the room,” she says earnestly, and my heart stutters.
“And the name Jeremy is pretty rock-and-roll, which is just his style.”
I blush and look down. “My mom named me after that Pearl Jam song. They were her favorite band.” I hear Marcus’s breath catch, and when I look at him, he’s staring at me hungrily.
I look back at Norah, who’s watching me as if she can see right into my soul.
“Thank you, Norah,” I say softly, melting into Marcus’s side.
We stay at the restaurant long after we finish our drinks and our sandwiches, and I’m kind of sad when we get up to part ways.
“Will we see you again before you leave?” I ask hopefully.
She shakes her head. “Probably not. Our concert is tomorrow, and then we have an early flight.”
I nod, but my disappointment must show in my expression because Norah leans in and hugs me tightly. “I’m so glad to finally meet you, Jeremy. Take care of our guy.”
Marcus hugs Norah next, and we both shake James’s hand and head in different directions.
It’s late as we huddle together and speedwalk up the sidewalk. I’m on cloud nine. It was a small gesture, Marcus opening up about us and his sexuality, but I know how hard it was for him, and it means a lot to me.
Just then, Marcus’s pocket starts to vibrate incessantly, like someone is sending a bunch of texts in a row. He pulls out his phone and slows as he reads them.
“What is it?” The heaviness I felt as we walked here returns, souring my stomach as an eerie feeling of dread settles over me. I grab his hand. “Marcus? What’s going on?”
The color drains from his face, and I feel like the world slows, the din of the city fading to gray static as I stare at him.
“Shit.” Marcus starts to run, yanking me after him.
I try to keep up with his long strides as I stumble and skip behind him. “What is it?” I ask again, but he doesn’t answer. We’re just rounding the corner toward Marcus’s condo when a black SUV skids to a stop next to us. Marcus jerks me behind him, taking a defensive stance as the door opens.
A man in a black suit steps out, and I swear I see all the muscles in Marcus’s back tense, and his hand tightens painfully against mine, crushing our knuckles together.
“Your father wants a word with you.”
“Now?” Marcus asks incredulously.
The man nods and steps aside so Marcus can get into the vehicle. My instincts are screaming that something’s wrong. This man’s demeanor and the way he carries himself exude danger.
Marcus turns to me and lowers his voice. “I need to go with him, Jer. But I’ll text you as soon as I can, okay?”
I swallow and nod, but the man behind Marcus clears his throat and pulls out a gun from his suit pocket. “Actually, Mr. Conner, I was told to bring both of you in.”