Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Hallie
T he temperature in the room has risen, and with a single look, the air that was once plentiful seems to have been sucked out completely. It’s always been like this with Marcus and me. The two of us charge a space with energy—energy that can result in the most heated of sparks or the most destructive of implosions. The temptation to revisit this particular part of our past to “just see” what the current between us would lead to is enticing.
I eye Marcus warily.
He sits before me, his simple presence the utter embodiment of a man-sized self-destruct button. And yet, part of me truly does not care. My curiosity, my desire to know— the trait that takes me all over the world—is also the instigator of every bad decision I’ve ever made. It’s what makes me the fool who’s forever touching walls with wet paint signs.
But touching Marcus? It would leave me with more than paint-stained fingertips.
Whatever he sees on my face causes a small smile to grace the corners of his lips, and he places his mug on the heavy block of a coffee table between us.
I freeze, breath stalling, as he stands, then moves around to sit on the edge of the table. Our knees brush.
“You’re a bit close,” I state, my heart picking up its pace beneath my ribs.
“I thought you might like me this close,” Marcus replies smoothly. “It’d make giving me a black eye much easier.” His lips curve into a knowing smirk. “I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself.”
It’s in moments like this I wish I could raise a single brow. Instead, I’m stuck with having to use my words. If only my mouth weren’t so great at getting me into all sorts of trouble. The truth is, I don’t mind him this close; I’m just not sure what stupid thing I might do.
I’m feeling too much.
Too much want. Too much anger. Too much volatility.
“You shouldn’t tempt me like that.”
The urge to lift a hand is strong, but my stupid, traitorous fingertips want to touch him more than they want to strike him. Or maybe they’d do one and then the other.
“A little temptation never hurt anyone,” he replies.
I laugh as his smile blooms because we both know that’s simply not the truth.
“You can’t imagine I’d want to be this close to you.”
“Come on, Hallie, you’re not stupid. Maybe Erica was right at dinner the other night, maybe we should just hate fuck and get it over with.” He says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world, as if it’d solve all our problems.
“You’ve got to be kidding?” I ask with a laugh.
I’m unwilling to believe he could actually be serious. The first and only time we slept together, Marcus broke my heart. The chances of me ever being up for round two are pretty damn slim.
Yet, I can’t deny the tension that still exists between us—tension I’d like out of my system once and for all.
“No, I’m not joking,” he replies as if I’ve somehow offended him.
“Hell is likely to freeze over before I get into bed with you.” I’m completely blown away by the conversation we’re having.
“A kiss, then?” Marcus offers, and I…
I hesitate.
The refusal that should’ve flown from my lips seems to have disappeared.
“What?” I scoff as my heart pounds, shock at my own reaction pouring through me.
“You heard me.”
“Well, I’m currently hoping I misheard you because you’re crazy.” My tone can only be described as unimpressed as I stand and make my way to leave. “I don’t want to kiss you.”
He stands with me, his smirk still in place. “Yes. You do. You know you want to.”
Just a kiss, and oh, how I want it.
“If you’re anything like me, Hallie, you want a taste, a simple touch. You want to know what it’s like after all this time, and you want it the hell out of your system.”
He repeats my own thoughts back to me, and it takes all my control to not let it show on my face.
“Just a kiss?” The sound of my voice shocks my brain. “Just this once?”
Logically, I know words aren’t spoken without the brain’s permission, but it doesn’t feel that way. No rational part of me is on board with this. I’d be better off punching him.
“If once is what it takes.”
“It wouldn’t mean I like you or could actually stand being around you.”
“And it doesn’t mean I’m happy you’re back in town,” he says.
I can’t help but feel the sting of the words.
“It’d just mean I’m curious.” Marcus would already know what this meant: that when I’m curious about something, I have to know, no matter the fallout.
“It’d basically just be business,” he responds, his variation of curiosity.
“As long as you don’t try and make me sign a contract.”
“I’ll take your word for it, then, that you won’t be mentioning it to anyone else.”
“Kissing isn’t even mentioned on your brother’s stupid list, but it’s nice to know you think you’re something worth bragging about.”
“Would you like me to provide references?”
“Would you be able to narrow it down to three?” I bite out with a smirk.
“You have a great mouth, Hallie. I can’t wait until it’s full of me.” His words are filthy, heating me up inside until I’m molten.
I forget all the reasons why I’ve avoided him and this place for so very long.
I want him. I want this thing, this craving, out of my system, so this time when I leave, I’ll have no reason to return.
I commit to this crazy idea.
I’m unwilling to be the one who touches first, and I refuse to flat-out ask for what I want. Instead, I fall back on what we already know so well.
I bait him.
“Well, are you going to kiss me? Are you going to keep me quiet, or should we get out a thesaurus and go a few more rounds?”
Marcus steps into my space, his body flush with my own.
It’s been years since we’ve been this close, yet still, his body isn’t touching mine. I bite my bottom lip, knowing if I release it, I’m likely to ask—no, beg—for his hands.
His eyes lock with mine, and I wonder, just for a moment, if he, too, realizes this will only be the second time we’ve touched in nearly a decade. Part of me wishes I didn’t think it, that I didn’t care. But it’s too late, and I’ve already thought about it. The caress of his thumbs along my jawline draws me back into the moment, and all of it ceases to matter.
I resist the urge to purr as his touch moves down my neck, pausing to glide over my collarbone and over the tops of my breasts.
“I still don’t like you,” I say, hating the breathless sound of my voice. How desperate I am for touch, specifically his.
“I’d be okay with that if it wasn’t for the fact you’re lying. You like me just fine.”
“I think you like the sound of your own voice.”
“I think you’d be upset if I stopped talking, if I stopped baiting you to fight with me. I’d bet it turns you on,” he says with a smirk that’s way more knowing than it should be. “Actually, I’d like to bet if you’d drop your panties and get on your knees, I could make you shut up and enjoy it quite a bit.”
“You want to shut me up? I’m saying there’s no way in hell I’m getting on my knees for you,” I growl out, unwilling to bend before him in that way.
“I want your mouth full, Hallie—too full to fight with me and preferably full of me . But you’re right, a kiss is what we agreed on.”
The initial press of his thumb to my lower lip has me wanting to nip at it. To lick the tip of it. And I do, the lightest touch of my tongue dampening the skin there. When he begins to run it back and forth, the sensation of his skin on mine, even in this small way, is a direct hit to a lower and needier part of my anatomy.
I’m uncertain if Marcus expects me to pull back, to get mad, or to release a tirade of insults. I’m uncertain of his expectations, and for once, I don’t have any of my own.
He keeps playing with my lip, and I can’t help myself as I gently nip at the pad of his thumb.
He inhales sharply, causing me to open my eyes, and I’m uncertain as to when they’d fallen shut.
The connection between us pulses as time pauses for just a moment, and then his lips are on mine, electricity shooting through me. His kiss isn’t what I was expecting. It’s not angry or hard. Not bruising or punishing. Instead, his lips brush against mine, firm but gentle, as he awaits my reaction. The rational part of my mind is well aware of each sane decision I could make in the moment. Of how Marcus wouldn’t push if I gave a single hint of hesitation. But all I can think of is his hands on me, how good it feels to be touched, and how my body is softening into the feel of him.
A shudder works its way through me as I return his kiss, my lips parting beneath his. Of their own accord, my hands lift, my fingers burrowing into his dark hair to tug him closer.
Marcus releases a sound from deep in his throat, and he’s on me in a flash.
His hands slip around my back, pulling me more firmly against him, and suddenly, he lifts me off the ground. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist as he walks us backward to the couch, taking a seat with me still astride him. At no point have our lips parted, and I can’t help but be thoroughly impressed.
Tugging at the hem of his shirt, I slip my hands beneath the fabric, dragging my nails across the firm muscles of his stomach. Awash in sensation, I lift my hips, dragging them over his thighs, his sweats leaving little to the imagination. The movement sends a pulse of pleasure through our perfectly aligned bodies.
Marcus’s groan is guttural.
“Fuck. Hallie,” he gasps out against my now-swollen lips before moving to kiss along the sensitive skin of my neck.
His pace slows while the tenderness of the action draws us into territory that’s infinitely more than any simple kiss.
My hips continue to roll of their own accord, my arms wrapping firmly around him, my lips pressing gently to his cheek.
The innocently affectionate gesture catches me, holding me in silence knowing that I’m unable to escape. A moment of vulnerability I’m unable to ignore.
Marcus stills beneath me before pulling away from my neck.
The change in him from one moment to the next is almost clinical.
As soon as I’m able to, as soon as I’ve taken all that I can bear to accept, I move my body and stand.
For once, I’m without the words I’ve come to rely on to keep me safe.
I’ve had the fight fucked out of me is the single thought trickling through my pacified brain, and the fact it wasn’t even fucking has me all the more on edge.
Marcus straightens against the back of his couch. There’s no way my silence has gone unnoticed, and I hope he realizes whatever he says next will be what moves us forward.
“Hal, if I had known you’d be quiet for this long, I would’ve suggested this sooner.” Marcus is all cocky grin, and my stomach drops.
Whatever warmth had been between us only moments ago has faded.
I feel unsteady and, to an extent, hurt. I’d thought the need for touch and the desperate want had been mutual. This, however, doesn’t feel that way. It feels like I wanted it more, and that—that’s terrifying.
I turn quickly, hoping my emotions don’t show as I pick up my discarded phone. I pray for my brain to not let me down.
I need words to bite. I need them to do harm.
They don’t come.
So I keep moving and leave without pause. He doesn’t deserve my words anyway.
As I make my way back to the pool house, I force myself to think about the last time I’d seen Marcus. The high I’d been floating on when I’d believed I was his everything, when I’d assumed the two of us would be together. And the intense devastation of the fall when I realized it hadn’t been the case.
Crushed. I had been crushed. Not just by his betrayal but by the weight and depth of my own emotion.
Years of being friends—years. Through thick and thin, we’d kept in contact, kept a strange and magnetic connection alive. He’d chased me, kept me around until I was ready, ready to be with him, to give him everything, and then he’d gotten what he’d wanted, and he’d been done. He hadn’t actually wanted to date me or be with me. He hadn’t loved me, not like I did him. All the late-night conversations about what we would do together, the countries we would visit, the life we would live.
It had all been words.
Words spoken through the night into the early hours of the morning.
Words whispered and promised but were, at the end of the day, just words.
Strings of letters put together that didn’t mean a single thing.
We’d been young, and I’d been the definition of too stupid to live when he promised he’d be my family. And that stupid proposal.
I had believed it.
I had believed in him.
And it’d been nothing other than a gigantic mistake.
Just like tonight.