Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Marcus
T he skin on the back of my neck prickles with awareness moments before the bartender’s stare locks somewhere behind me. These are the only signs I need to know that Hallie’s arrived. Without being told, without having to turn, I know her focus is on me as she makes her way across the low-lit bar. And I don’t hate it. Far from it. With that troublesome thought planting itself within my brain, I turn toward her and watch as she heads directly to me. My gaze is slow and appreciative, tracking her as she places one heeled black boot in front of the other before moving higher up her body.
When Hallie’s big blues finally meet mine, I’m caught by their open expression and the sharp burst of happiness that takes hold of her upon seeing me, lighting up her face.
Not just happiness but excitement.
I feel the moment a smile breaks free on my lips, the genuine giddy nature of it catching me off guard. She tamps her expression down so quickly I could almost convince myself I’d imagined it.
It’s a look I hadn’t expected, even if it only lingered for less than a moment. For once, our response to one another is light, and my fingertips tingle with a joy I haven’t felt in a long time.
Hallie might’ve dropped her grin, but I’ve kept mine, and I raise a single brow in question at the way her cheeks flush at my reaction to her. I try to ignore the tightening in my chest when she slips onto the leather-backed stool at my side.
Fuck. She is stunning.
Tonight, her hair’s poker straight, her lips back to their normal deep red, and I want to keep her to myself.
Which is a damn problem.
“Happy to see me?” she asks playfully.
“Every. Single. Inch.” I give her a cheeky grin.
Hallie sighs, tilting her head to the side. “Are you really going to make me remind you that my eyes are located on my face?”
My gaze has yet to leave her body, as if I’m somehow going to be able to see through her clothing to all that lies beneath.
She curls her index finger beneath my chin, lifting so my eyes meet hers, the scruff of my five-o’clock shadow surely scratching the delicate skin of her fingers in the process.
I decide to gift her with my blatant honesty as I palm my tumbler of whiskey. “Hallie, I haven’t been able to get the thought of that tiny little serpent from between your breasts out of my mind. The image of you naked in that fitting room, writhing in my arms, will forever live rent-free in my head.”
The corners of her lips curl upward, even as the flush on her cheeks continues to deepen. “Marcus, I don’t want to hear any cracks about one-eyed snakes.”
I move in closer, brushing my lips against her ear as I growl, “Funny, I was just thinking about what it would be like to press your tits together and push my cock between them. Get up close and personal with that little serpent of yours.”
I smile as goose bumps explode over her skin at the erotic image of one of the filthier above-the-waist ways we’d fooled around when we were younger.
Hallie’s swallow is audible. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done that.”
“If I remember correctly, you used to get off on it.”
My mind can’t help but conjure images of her hands braced alongside my own, fingers intertwined as we pressed her breasts together, my hips bucking and her gaze glazed. Somehow, I manage to keep those more descriptive thoughts in my head and adjust myself discreetly.
Hallie wiggles in her seat, giving me a shove with her shoulder. “You’re an ass, and we’re in public. Buy me a drink and play nice.”
I laugh good-naturedly and sit back, catching the attention of the bartender from earlier. “A glass of red for the lady, please, preferably something dark. She likes it when it matches her lips.”
“Not that you don’t get off making me squirm when we’re alone, but have you heard from our lovely bride and groom?” she asks, their current absence more than notable.
“They’re running late getting back from an appointment with their officiant,” I answer. Jules had called me not long before she’d arrived to let me know, and I’d found myself faking annoyance at the two of us being left alone together.
The bartender places Hallie’s drink in front of her, and she gifts him with a smile I would rather have for myself.
“I’ll probably need another one of these,” Hallie says with a little grimace, red wine halfway to her mouth.
“You don’t need to look so completely thrilled about having to spend time alone with me. You didn’t seem nearly as put out by our one-on-one time earlier today.” The smug words leave my mouth before I’m able to think better of them, especially since I’d complained of the same thing to Julian on the phone earlier. Hypocritical doesn’t begin to cover it. The only difference being Hallie had insulted me to my face, not on the phone to someone else. Although I wouldn’t put it past her.
She sips her wine, a small smile curving her lips. “I wouldn’t say I’m not thrilled. It’s more that I’m doubting your ability to have a woman find pleasure in your company more than once a day.”
The words are released in jest, but they don’t hit their intended comedic mark. Instead, she looks as uncomfortable as I feel. What’s been working for us over the last few days is no longer working today.
I place my glass down on the granite bar, eyes focused on the solid cube of ice resting within it.
“You really do have a questionable opinion of me and not just my sexual prowess, don’t you?” I ask, knowing I don’t particularly deserve any type of honest answer, nor do I deserve a kind one. But hope springs eternal.
“Well, our history hasn’t really given me much reason to have faith,” Hallie answers, suddenly treading carefully.
It’s an opening for a conversation that’s long overdue. The fact it’d be here and now in such a public place seems almost prophetic, and I’m uncertain if we’re ready for it.
“They do say history’s recorded by the victors,” I reply, unable to keep a thread of droll cynicism out of my voice.
“And you think I was a victor in our past?” Her disbelief is evident.
“You seem to be doing all right.” I tip my drink in her direction, our demeanor at complete odds from only moments ago.
“No thanks to you,” she throws back, her posture tensing with a likely mix of anger and discomfort. “And you’re not doing too poorly yourself.” Her words hit their intended mark, and I tilt my head in acknowledgment, taking another sip from my glass.
Hallie’s chest rises and falls at the same pace as my own, no longer languid but short and sharp. The heady tension between us pulls unbelievably tight. It’s a cord I don’t want to snap, that neither of us can afford to snap. Not yet.
We aren’t ready for this conversation. Hell, after today, I’m not ready for this conversation, and there’s no way Hallie’s ready to forgive me.
And so I pull us back to neutral ground.
“White flag,” I growl out. “Rule three, polite interactions in social situations.”
I never would’ve thought I’d be the one to call on my brother’s ridiculous set of rules, but here we are.
Hallie’s eyes narrow on mine, but she remains silent.
“I mean,” I say, considering my next words, “if we’re going to spend any time together, we may as well be honest with each other, but potentially not that honest.”
“Honest? I didn’t think that was a word you’d be familiar with,” Hallie quips, pulling a hand through her hair. The tension starts to ease from her shoulders.
“I’d tell you I’m trying to turn a new leaf, but I’m sure you’d just tell me I’m lying.”
“And what would the truth be?” she asks flat out.
I give her a smirk that I’m not one hundred percent feeling and hook my calf around the leg of her chair, pulling her an inch closer. “The truth is, our past is complicated, but if you can let it be, our present could be easy. We’re going to need to put it aside, otherwise, we’re going to keep taking one step forward and two steps back,” I explain. “Oh, and I think you’ve missed me. I think that’s definitely true.”
Hallie snorts. It’s ridiculous and delicate, and she chooses to stay seated.
“Missed you like a hole in the head,” she replies with a small laugh, ignoring the possibility of anything easy between us.
“You like being around me again. Look at you—you’re flushed at my very presence.”
I’m smug, and unfortunately, I’m aware of just how much the look suits me. This balance of sarcasm and banter is a much safer space for us.
“I’d call it an allergic reaction,” she says dismissively of the blush staining her cheeks.
I lean in close to whisper in her ear. “I’d call it lust.”
Hallie plays with the rim of her wineglass, acting bored. She’s managed to keep her body language neutral, not leaning toward me the way I’m angled toward her. “I’d say you were delusional.”
“If this was my delusion, you wouldn’t be wearing clothes.” I focus my gaze back on the midpoint between her breasts. Mostly to be annoying.
She rolls her eyes. “You really can’t move past the physical, can you?”
This time, she doesn’t need to physically lift my eyes to hers. I manage it all on my own.
“What can I say? I like to hang out in the areas where I excel.”
She shakes her head, more exasperated than frustrated. “Is there ever going to be a serious conversation between us?”
I sit back, tapping my finger against my chin in contemplation. “Maybe? If the room is padded and there isn’t anything sharp around. Oh, and you could be tied up—that could be a nice touch, now that I think about it. Black leather over chains, if you’re looking for my opinion.”
Hallie groans, shoving her shoulder against mine. “God, you’re an ass.”
I feel relief at her touch, but I keep my response purely languid. “It’s not the noblest of steeds, but I’ll take it.”
“You’re not helping. We’re just going to make a mess, and I don’t want that for Julian and Erica. Hell, I don’t want that for myself. They’ve given a consequence for these stupid rules I’d rather not suffer if we get caught breaking them. We’ve already kind of broken it twice.”
I huff. “You mean like my brother breaking my nose and refusing to interact with me as more than an acquaintance for a year? Yeah, I’d rather that not be the case either.”
That wasn’t a fond memory I had planned to share this evening.
“I…I wish I could say I was sorry to have heard about that,” she says with a tiny wince.
I nod in acknowledgment of this particular truth. I’d wondered if Hallie was aware of the damage caused between Julian and me but hadn’t meant to air the personal consequences of our failed relationship in such a cavalier way. Not exactly one of my proudest moments in life. It’d been a punch I hadn’t seen coming, even though I’d truly deserved it.
“It took us a while to build up back to being not just brothers but friends again,” I explain, vulnerability in the words but no blame.
“I won’t take the heat for that,” Hallie responds fairly.
“You shouldn’t. I made the choices I had to make.”
She nods slowly but refrains from commenting.
“And what about this thing between us now?” she asks instead.
“Well, it makes a change to want to be in one another’s company,” I say. “Would it make you feel better if we made a truce of our own?”
Considering the way Julian’s has worked so far, it really can’t hurt; it probably won’t even help.
“We’re going to keep up with this, then? Fooling around and throwing insults?”
“Julian would surely get suspicious if we continued to do one and not the other, and anyway, Hallie, you’re good at it.”
More than this, I think, it makes me feel young again, the way only a bad idea can.
In some ways, it feels like a do-over of our teenage years. I can only wonder if we’ll make better choices this time.
Hallie picks up her white cocktail napkin and digs a pen from her purse, then shifts in her seat, her thigh getting as close as it can to mine without moving onto my lap. She gives me an assessing look, most likely weighing up what a terrible fucking idea this is, and I smirk, lifting my chin in an almost dare.
She quietly mutters, “Worst idea ever.”
Then she presses her pen to the napkin, where she scrawls “H+M Treaty (After Dark Edition)” along the top before jotting the numbers one through six down the margin. I can’t help but notice the way she has copied the exact format of the truce Julian sent us only several days ago.
“What’s number one?” I ask, ready to get this show on the road.
“That we don’t tell anyone, obviously.” Hallie doesn’t even look at me before she writes it down—the number one rule that, according to Jules, would get us uninvited from the wedding.
“Well, number two should be nothing changes outside of this. Being mean to one another brings me joy; I’ll seek therapy at a later date.”
Hallie reaches over and flicks the soft skin of my ear—not gently, I might add.
“If you think I’m going to start being sweet to you, you’re kidding yourself,” she replies, as if being sweet to me would be anything other than terrifying.
“Three, no touching in public.” Hallie’s choice, and one that doesn’t necessarily work for me.
“Public, as in where people can see? Or public, as in somewhere other than our own personal spaces?” I try to clarify.
Hallie’s blue eyes hit mine as she taps the end of her pen against her lush lower lip.
I want to bite it.
Her lip, not the pen. Or maybe the pen, too, if I can relieve it from her discreetly.
“As in where people can see.”
I decide to punish her for looking hot with a stupid pink ballpoint pen. “Excellent. Glad to hear cubicles in public restrooms are back on the list.”
“You disgust me,” she replies with an unimpressed smile.
Apparently, she hasn’t noticed she’s basically sitting on my lap—she’s already breaking her own rule.
“No snuggling,” I add cheerfully, mostly to be an ass, not because I have anything against it.
“No beds,” Hallie quips in response, and I have to say I’m impressed.
Snuggling and comfort ruled out in one swift move. Couple’s therapy might just be in our future.
I can do nothing but smile. “Kinky.”
She points her pen at me. “Shut up.”
I don’t hesitate with my last requirement on this list.
“No talking about the past,” I say.
“Is that a good idea?” she asks.
I don’t let my face give anything away. “Does it matter? You can live in the present or dredge through the past. Personally, I know what I’d rather you choose. Whatever this is, we’re doing it on borrowed time.”
She knows I’m right. Hallie’s here with the aim of packing up the remnants of her life, and from what I can tell, she has no intentions of staying or coming back.
“Not talking about the past is fine,” Hallie confirms, all business. “Time restraint?”
“We’re done when the wedding’s done.”
Hallie looks up at me as I say the words, and I don’t miss the way her shoulders stiffen just a fraction.
“Agreed,” she says with a nod, and the moment passes. “What’s the consequence if we break the truce?”
I think about it for a moment, the dream consequence in this scenario.
“Whoever instigates the breaking of the truce forfeits, and the other party can call things off from that point. No explanation necessary.”
“The ultimate get-out-of-jail-free card?” she asks, not seeming worried about it one way or another.
“Exactly. Every man’s dream.” Even I know I sound like an ass.
Hallie signs her name under the list before passing her pen to me. Getting a closer look at it, I see the word “Twat” has been inscribed on it.
“Cute pen,” I say, my brow raised as I sign.
“Inside joke with a friend.”
We’ve set the stakes, and I have to admit I don’t hate them. I like the idea of an easy ending.
I pull some cash from my pocket, leaving it on the bar as I stand up to put on my jacket.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Hallie asks, bewildered by my sudden movement.
“Hallie, they’re over half an hour late. I’m pretty sure we can write them off as no-shows, and it’s not like it’d be hard to believe we’d got sick of one another’s company and decided to call it a night.”
I reach out to her.
She looks at my outstretched hand, and I can see it on her face as she weighs her options, the pros and cons of this decision: It ends well, she leaves; it ends poorly, she leaves.
I don’t give her too long to think about it. “You don’t want to hold my hand? Are you worried about cooties?”
She smiles, decision made. “No, just your run-of-the-mill STIs.”
“You know that’s not how science works, right?” I ask, as if worried about her general level of intelligence.
She hops to her feet, an insult on her lips, a smile on her face, and a pep in her step. “I’m aware. It’s just how my faith in you works. Because, you know, I have none.”
I dramatically press a hand to my chest as if struck. “Hallie, you wound me.”
She raises her brows. “Really? Does it hurt? Are you bleeding? Can I see?” Bloodthirsty excitement colors her tone, even as she touches me all over, looking for this “wound.”
So much for her no-touching-in-public rule.
I withhold my smile, instead staring her down like she’s just a little strange. “That is messed up.”
She shrugs, unbothered. “Hey, I just like evidence of a job well done.”
“And I like it when your mouth has other things to do,” I say, pulling us full circle.
This time, it doesn’t sound like an insult; it feels like a game we’ve both agreed to play, and it feels strangely good.
Hallie’s lips find mine, and with that, the big ball of tension, the giant pink elephant that’s been following us around for the last week, seems to shrink significantly.
Our kiss is scorching, our mouths hungry as I cup her jaw with one hand and pull her body in closer with the other. It lasts a single moment before I pull away, nodding in the direction of the door, a silent promise of more and soon translated through a squeeze of her hip. The no-touching-in-public rule was going to be one we ignored straight from the start, then.
Hallie’s hand is steady and warm in mine as we make our way to the exit. It’s both exhilarating and nerve-racking. I’m busy, my eyes down, locked on the way our fingers interlace perfectly with one another, when suddenly, Hallie’s hand drops from mine.
I halt my quick pace to look behind me. I’m given a single moment with her still hidden behind my shoulders to pull myself back together as I hear Erica say, “Hey! Where do you think you’re going? I said we’d be late, not that we weren’t coming.”