Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
JEREMY
JUNE
We roll into Cannon Beach in Tristan’s Honda Civic, and my heart feels like lead, but I smile tolerantly as Marion, who’s been driving since our last bathroom break, squeezes my knee with excitement.
She and Tris have never visited the Oregon coast, so they’ve been buzzing the whole two-hour ride over from Portland, where they picked me up from my aunt’s house.
I’ve been staying with Aunt Sophia for weeks, and I feel so displaced. I miss Seattle and my little apartment. But at the same time, I can’t be there because I miss him, even though I shouldn’t. Plus, he’s there.
How is this real life?
I know deep down that Marcus didn’t actually know what Ryan did to my parents, and I know he was protecting his family. But what about my family? They died because of Skynet—because they tried to do the right thing.
It’s all so fucked up.
And I wanted him to protect me too. If he’d just told me what he suspected maybe it would have hurt just a bit less. It felt like a serious betrayal. My chest hurts just thinking about it, and I chew absently on my silver thumbnail, my eyes unfocused.
I mean, how do I come back from that?
Marion told me that he saved my life that night, using the literal shirt off his back to stop me from bleeding out until the ambulance showed up. Her voice is still rolling around in my head: He said to tell you he loves you, if it makes a difference . . .
Marion nudges my shoulder. “You have that look again, J.”
“What look?”
“Stop thinking about him.”
“Who?” I ask, my tone sullen.
She rolls her eyes.
Tris pushes his head between the two front seats like an eager child. “Yeah, who?”
“Marcus, obviously.”
Tris glances at me. “Is that why he’s so miserable?”
“I am not miserable.”
“Aunt Sophia said that you’ve either been working all hours of the day or sitting in your room, watching Spider-Man: No Way Home and eating copious amounts of peanut M&Ms.”
“Toothless has a thing for Tom Holland,” I say defensively.
“Bringing your cat into the scenario isn’t really helping your point,” Marion says.
“Can I not enjoy my breakup in peace?” I snap.
“You guys didn’t even really break up,” Marion points out. “You were together and then you weren’t, and you still haven’t told us what happened.”
“And Marcus won’t tell me anything either,” Tris pipes up. “I’ve asked him several times.” He pouts. “He’s all moody again. I miss dick-whipped Marcus.”
I grit my teeth. “Can we talk about something else?”
They both say “no” just as Marion turns into the beach house driveway.
“I wish Elsie didn’t have to work,” I grouse. “If she were here, she’d back me up.”
Marion rolls her eyes. “That’s because she hates gossip.”
“Exactly.”
My stomach churns as I stare at the Otter Limits sign, the cute little otters holding hands like they’re mocking my pain.
Not only is this the last time I’ll see this place before Mike sells it, but I haven’t been back since Marcus came with me over Thanksgiving.
It definitely would have been easier to stay here while I was doing my design work for Flash, but I didn’t trust myself not to fall apart, so I just made the drive back to Portland every night.
Was I tired? Sure. But it’s not like I’ve slept well since March anyway.
Marion and Tris are watching me expectantly, so I ignore them and get out of the car, stretching my legs.
It may be June, but the weather here doesn’t really feel like summer until July, so there’s a chill to the salty breeze as I listen to the crash of the ocean waves.
At least it’s not raining today, though there’s still time.
I stare at the beach house again, my mouth going dry. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
Tris gets out of the car, and Marion pops the trunk and walks around to pull out our bags.
We’re just staying for the weekend before I go back to Portland and decide what I actually want to do next.
I’m between jobs, but my work at BB&B and for Flash topped up my savings, so I finally have enough for a down payment for a small business loan.
And thanks to the media attention I got from Flash’s over-the-top beach house, my email has been inundated with design requests. It feels a bit surreal, honestly.
Now, the problem is that I don’t know where I want to go. I always thought I’d stay in Seattle, but that doesn’t feel right anymore, and even though my aunt is in Portland, that option doesn’t appeal to me either. I used to know what I wanted, and Marcus just went and ruined everything.
Typical asshole guy.
Marion walks up next to me, carrying two bags. “Are we going in or what?”
I sigh. “Yeah.” I trudge up the walk, staring down forlornly at my black Converse.
I’m in mourning.
I grab my keys from my pocket and stick the key in the lock, giving it a good twist. The door cracks open, and I hear voices filtering from inside.
What the fuck? Is someone here? I glance around but don’t see any other cars.
Tristan gives me a wide-eyed look and holds up his phone. “Should I call the police?”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. Whoever it is isn’t disguising their presence, and it’s the middle of the morning, so it’s not like we interrupted a robbery.
“Hello?” I call tentatively, stepping into the foyer.
The voices quiet.
I walk down the hallway and into the main living space. I relax a little when I see six familiar faces look at me expectantly.
Charlie sits next to Fiona at the dining room table, and they have what looks like a crossword in front of them.
Trey sits in the chair next to Charlie. He’s nestled in Lincoln’s lap, his lips tipped up in a smirk, while Link looks bored as fuck with his hand gripping Trey’s thigh possessively.
Brantley is on the couch drinking a beer with Sebastian’s feet on his lap.
They all look very . . . comfortable.
And I’m so fucking confused.
My eyes dart around the room for Marcus, and I don’t know if I feel disappointment or relief when I don’t see him anywhere.
“Hey, guys,” I start awkwardly. “What’re you all doing here?”
Marion and Tris come up behind me, and I give them a questioning look, but Marion raises her hands. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“I invited them.”
I spin around, and Marcus steps out of the bedroom behind me.
His dark hair is longer, falling messily over his forehead, but still artfully styled.
He’s wearing a green flannel rolled up at the sleeves and dark jeans that hug his sinfully muscled thighs.
His stubble is the longest I’ve ever seen it, almost to full-beard status, and I fucking hate that he looks so good.
He should look miserable.
Like me.
I give him a glare, placing one hand on my hip. “What the fuck are you doing here, Marcus?”
His full lips twitch, like he’s fighting a smile, but his eyes darken. “It’s nice to see you too, Jer,” he rumbles, his stupid deep voice going straight to my cock. “Good to know you’re still a sassy brat.”
“Good to know you’re still a moody prick,” I counter, my eyes narrowing. I hear Tris snicker behind me, and Marcus shoots him a scowl. “You didn’t answer my question.”
He purses his lips like he’s thinking something over. “This is my house,” he finally replies.
“Your what?” I squint at him. “Are you high again?”
He doesn’t look high. If anything, his deep brown eyes are clear and focused, and they soften the longer they look at me.
“This is my house,” he repeats. “Well, technically, my closing date is June fifteenth, but it’s basically mine at this point.”
My stomach bottoms out, and I lose the attitude I was so desperately clinging to.
Did he do this to hurt me? To rub it in my face?
He takes a step closer, and I step back as my eyes fill with tears. “I don’t understand.” My lower lip trembles, and I bite it as I try to resist the urge to drop my fingers to my hip.
“Look, Jeremy,” Marcus says. “There’s something I need to say.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Please, Starlight.” His expression is so genuine and earnest.
I want so badly to listen, but how can I give him that power over me again? I already feel like my heart is being shredded.
I sniff. “I suppose you want to go somewhere to talk in private?”
He shakes his head hesitantly. “I hid you from everyone for so long, and you didn’t deserve that. I want them to hear what I have to say, even if it makes me uncomfortable. Especially if it makes me uncomfortable.” He swallows. “So what do you say?”
A tear trickles down my cheek, and I wipe it away quickly, trying to regain some composure. “Okay,” I whisper, conveying with my stare that this is his last fucking chance at redemption. “Tell me something true.”
My request makes him flinch, and I get a little satisfaction from knowing that my words sting.
“The truth is I love you, and I’ve loved you since I was eleven years old.
” My breath catches, and Marcus crowds me until our toes touch, and this time I don’t move away.
I don’t even breathe. “I met a little boy on the beach, and he became everything to me—an obsession, an expectation, a challenge. You may not have always known it, and it’s toxic as fuck, but you’ve been mine ever since. ”
My hands start to tremble as his words fill in the little cracks in my heart, and I squeeze them into fists, trying to control my reaction.
“I never really believed in that soul mate bullshit.” His voice is gravel, and he huffs a choked laugh.
“I still don’t know if I do. But I know that when that ambulance took you away, for the first time in my life, you were actually gone, and it wrecked me.
I royally fucked up, and I’m so sorry. But I’m doing this now in front of everyone in my life who matters.
I—” He clears his throat, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“I miss you, Jeremy,” he says, cupping my wet cheeks.
“And I’m so helplessly in love with you.
And whether you forgive me or not, I just need you to know that. ”
My brain short-circuits, and a sob rips up my throat because he did not just declare all this cheesy shit in front of everyone like some sort of nineties romcom.
But he did.
And he did it for me.
I bury my face in my hands and start to cry like a child. He wraps his arms around me, and I melt into his firm chest. He smells like a spicy forest, which just makes me cry harder.
“Shhh,” he whispers. “Baby, it’s okay. You’re okay.”
His words comfort me for a moment before they enrage me, and I rear back, pushing him away. “I’m not okay, Marcus! You made me cry in front of everyone, and I am ugly when I cry!”
His mouth falls open as he stares at me in shock, obviously unsure about how to react to my outburst. I hear a sniffle behind me and glance back at Charlie and Fiona, who are clinging to each other, almost as wrecked as I am. Even Trey is looking a little red around the eyes.
“You big, stupid lumberjack,” I sputter as I pull my sleeve across my face, probably smearing eyeliner and snot everywhere. “You made them cry too.”
Then, I throw myself into Marcus’s arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. He makes a startled oof sound, which I cut off when I attack his mouth with mine, pouring everything into that kiss.
“I hate you so much,” I sob against his lips as he kisses me back. “I hate you.”
I weave my fingers into his hair and tug it forcefully, making Marcus grunt.
My head spins as our lips fight for dominance, dancing together.
It feels intimate and wild, just like us.
Marcus’s hands grip my thighs tightly, pulling me closer, and I try to ignore the delicious way our cocks harden in unison.
“Jesus, get a room,” Lincoln grumbles, and I giggle into Marcus’s mouth.
We’re both panting as he lowers me reluctantly to the ground.
“Does this mean you’re gay?” Brantley asks with a shit-eating grin, and Seb kicks him.
“So gay.” Marcus grins. “Bi, actually.”
I give a tearful laugh and blush, feeling embarrassed with so many eyes on me. Suddenly, the sliding glass door opens, and Sabrina stumbles into the room with Laura following after, both of them looking suspiciously disheveled.
I glance at Marcus, who winks at me.
Sabrina stops and looks around. “Oh shit, Roy, did we miss the grand declaration? That’s a fucking bummer.”
“I didn’t want to see it,” Laura says with a grimace. “I would have died from secondhand embarrassment.”
“Actually, I recorded it,” Tris says slyly, and Sabrina squeals, clapping her hands together.
I glare at Tris. “You better delete that. I was ugly crying.”
Tris shakes his head with a sassy grin. “No chance in hell. I’m showing this to your children someday.” He steps around us and rolls his suitcase into the dining room, plopping down at the table across from Lincoln and Trey. “I don’t think we’ve met. Are you two brothers or boyfriends?”
Everyone starts talking at once, and I turn back to Marcus. “So you bought this place, huh?”
He nods, tenderly pushing some hair behind my ear. “We bought it. Mike already has you on the mortgage.” He runs his hands along my bare forearms as if he can’t stop touching me.
I raise an eyebrow. “You must’ve been pretty confident that I was going to forgive you. What if I told you to kick rocks?”
He shrugs. “I would have taken my name off, gifted you the down payment, and left.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” He gives me a boyish smile that makes his eyes crinkle, and my heart stutters a bit. “I would do anything for you, baby. Even if it meant walking away.” He leans close to my ear, his warm breath coasting over my skin. “Now, are you going to admit that you don’t hate me?”
I give him an impish grin and shake my head.