Chapter 26 #2
Reign began to follow the group of people into the main gallery before Markus placed his hand on the small of her back and moved her toward the private elevator.
“We’re this way, Speechless.” His correction to her motion was soft. Leading. On the elevator alone, Markus stood in front of her and continued. “I didn’t want you to break it down. I just wanted to know what I looked like from your lenses.”
Now she bit her lip and placed her hands behind her so any motion of wanting to touch him would get tangled.
The truth was in the way her eyes danced as she took him in.
This silent but very loud stare down lasted until the elevator dinged and welcomed them into their private, virtual dining experience of the artwork.
Markus stepped out ahead of her to scan the space to ensure the things he booked were present.
When the space came into Reign’s view, her mouth dropped.
The virtual artwork danced around her, on the walls, crisp marble floors.
A table sat in the middle of the room with art-inspired brunch plates.
As she got closer to the table, she noticed the ribbon-tied bouquet of vibrant fall flowers.
She stopped, fear hitting the brakes, fighting with all the feelings flooding her.
“You,” she started, brows creased as she took it all in. The mention of the exhibit and never getting flowers or meeting a man’s family; all conversations they had stretched across the couch with her foot in his hand. “You listened to me?”
Markus stood inches away, hands in his pockets. “Yeah. When you talk, it’s worth me taking in. I know you’ll stop at any point, so I listen.”
“Emilliano,” she spoke just above a whisper, coming to terms that this thing was happening and there would be no minimizing her capacity to house him.
She turned to take him in, a smile of contentment resting on her face.
“You know you got to keep this up. Like, you can’t “get me” and then stop this. ”
She threw up weak air quotes before he took her hands into his. He kissed each palm.
“I’m just getting started for real, Speechless. Eat, because there’s more.” Releasing her and stepping away to pull her seat out. When Reign sat, he tilted her chin up. He grunted again before leaning down to kiss her forehead.
Reign welcomed it. Welcomed the hot brunch.
Welcomed his closeness as they moved to the other room for the second part of this impromptu date.
A private showing from the artist. The Majestic Falls held images of the more beautiful places in Majestic Heights and the people it housed than the ugliest places.
Ironically, Reign found that the smiles in the ghettos of the city held more beauty than the people who were wrapped in their labels and all their things.
True happiness wasn’t found in the affordability of things.
It was found in the surrender and the adjustment of your view.
Markus’ warmth engulfed her. His arm now wrapped around her shoulders, allowing her support as she melted into him. “What you thinking about?”
“Taking it all in,” Reign shared. “The beauty of it. Look at their eyes. When you see soulless eyes every day for years, it makes you forget about how beautiful free will is. How great surrender is. These are beautiful. Thank you for this.”
Markus’ lips smiled against her temple. “I ain’t done. Come on.”
The last room was a glass room overlooking the city that floated eighty floors above the ground. Reign took a step and stopped when she saw the city still moving about below her. “Oh, uh uh.”
Markus laughed and walked into the space where easels were set up along with two tables with paint and aprons draped over each chair. “You trust me?”
Reign rolled her eyes. “As far as I can throw you and you’re big.”
He held his hand out, offered her an assuring smile. “I got you, Speechless. And I mean, think about it. If we go down, we going down together, and I get to bother you in the afterlife.”
Reign laughed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, joy. You’re an ass itch now. Imagine not having hands to get rid of it. Sounds like hell to me.”
“Whew, that mouth, Speechless,” he grunted, more devilishly than aggravated. The aggravation came from him having to keep his hands to himself when all he wanted to do was place them on her skin.
Reign shrugged. “The fact I can’t get rid of you means you like it.”
“Mhmm,” he groaned. “I do. Come here.”
Reign took a step without her brain firing off for her to stop.
One heeled foot in front of the other until she reached him.
Secure in his embrace, she stood and took in the majesty of Majestic Heights.
The noon sun, high in the sky, illuminated the splendor of the city.
Oddly enough, the calming sense of floating removed the fear of actually seeing the orange cabs and cars that looked like dots moving below.
“I see this city in its glory, but I know its ugliness. Nothing beats watching you take it in, though,” Markus muttered in her ear, coaxing her to turn around and look up at him.
Her brows creased, and a silly smile formed over her lips.
“You getting soft on me? Oh nah. I can’t have that.” She pulled away, continuing to avoid the urge to kiss him. “Is this what we’re painting?”
“Yeah,” Markus said, watching her move away from him. “So you can display my fire shit on your wall. Right above your bed so you can grin and giggle and think about a nigga.”
“Emilliano, please,” Reign scoffed, as she moved to an easel. “Put it in your house. It needs some life over there.”
“You right ‘bout that. Shit is colder than a muhfucka,” Markus agreed, donning the apron over her. “I’d take the couch with your foot over being there, for real.”
“So what if this whatever you’re trying to rope me into doesn’t work, then what?” Reign quizzed.
“First things first, I got you hooked. I just got to tag you, bag you. Second, us not working simply isn’t an option for me.” Markus gave in to his urge, placing a loaded kiss on her lips. “Or for you. I’ve never been a man who took no easily.”
Her lips quirked, expecting more, but Markus took himself out of her space. However, the kiss was a promise that next time he was wrapped around her, he wasn’t letting go so quickly. She chose to combat the seriousness with a quip.
“Yeah, I figured you were a toddler from the first time I met you. Big ass with a baby ass attitude. It’s on brand.”
“On brand? You talkin’ shit this high up in the air?” Markus asked with a half smirk.
“I mean, you did say if we fall, we’d fall together. Which means I can talk shit in the afterlife,” she buzzed, taking a seat and beaming up at him. “And if that’s the case, I’m talking some good shit.”
“You better cut it out,” Markus grumbled, nipping the corner of his lip.
“I’m not doing nothing,” Reign innocently spoke.
Markus chuckled and took a seat of his own. “You know what you doin’, Speechless. Keep it up.”
“Is that a threat?”
“I’d never threaten you. I’ll make you a promise, though. You ain’t ready for that though.”
Reign felt the flood of heat again and huffed. “Don’t tell me what I’m ready for, Money.”
He groaned and palmed his chin. “Reign…”
She flashed her eyes at him and let a smile take over her face. “There’s cameras, you crash out, I’ll have evidence. Paint.”
“Let me find out you the feds.”
“Ain’t a fed bone in my body, Money.”
“Mm. You know my name. But you playin’.”
From the museum to City Noodle for an early dinner.
They roamed in and out of shops, and Reign noticed that everywhere they went, he had someone in the sea of people.
Someone was watching his back. When he held her earlier, she felt the gun on his waist, always strapped and always vigilant, but completely focused on her.
She loved it, and she hated to admit how much the protection alone was balm to her tattered spirit.
With coffee and pastries for the morning in hand, Reign tiptoed into the house. Markus followed behind with bags of things she’d touched and refused to buy because Reign expressed she was just window shopping and taking in the sights. For him, she deserved everything she wanted.
“My feeetttt,” she whined. “Why’d you let me wear these shoes?”
Markus laughed behind her, closing the door. “I asked you when you got in the car if those high ass heels weren’t going to kill you.”
“I’m sorry, I must’ve missed that fake concern because you were staring at me walk all day,” Reign shot back gingerly, tiptoeing into the kitchen to place the box of beignets, croissants, and biscuits on the counter.
Before she could bend over to unzip the boots, she was hoisted into the air and placed on the counter.
With minimal gasp, she watched as Markus unzipped each boot and dropped them to the floor.
Weakly, she buzzed, “Thanks.”
“The view was beautiful, I couldn’t help myself,” he said, hands planted on the cool countertop, calming the heat. He groaned, pressed his forehead against hers, his phone buzzing in his pocket, reminding him he still had businesses to run.
“You should handle that,” Reign softly spoke, placing her hands underneath her thighs. “It’s been buzzing all day. Handle your business.”
“You are my business,” he grumbled, kissing her face. “What you doin’ to me, Reign?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “What are you doing to me?”
“Marking you,” he admitted and drew in a sharp breath, feeling her tense. He withdrew, but not without kissing the tip of her nose. “Go get comfortable. I had you out all day.”
Reign’s brows met again. “You leaving?”
“Not if I don’t need to. I’m going to handle these calls,” Markus shared, stepping to the side. “But I mean if you want me to go-”
“No,” she blurted before catching herself, but his expression granted her permission to continue without judgment. “I’ve gotten used to you staying.”
Markus laughed. “You just want to stare at me while I slice up your apples.”
Reign attempted a frown, but a smile wiggled over her face. Fighting not to show him all her teeth like the Cheshire cat, she flicked him off and walked away.
“If I were you, I’d put that down,” Markus rumbled under his breath.
Hearing him, Reign snatched it out of the air and continued up the stairs to get into something comfortable. When she returned, Markus was showered and back into his normal sweatpants and white tank top, flipping through the Mahogany Channel app.
He didn’t look up immediately when he asked, “Rom-Com or I get to watch something that’s going to blow up?”
Reign sat in her spot and looked at the screen. “I’m sure I’ll be knocked out in twenty minutes, you choose.”
Markus looked up at her and chuckled. “You not hot?”
“Considering I’ve been balled up in a blanket every night, yes,” she sarcastically replied. “There’s a draft in here.”
“Hmm,” he buzzed. He looked at the oversized sweatshirt that was definitely something he’d left behind a few nights ago. The leggings and the thick fuzzy socks. It wasn’t that damn cold considering she’d slept every night in less than that. “Aight.”
Reign got comfortable minutes before feeling Markus take her socks off her feet. She expected him to just hold her foot, the same routine, a different night, forgetting that there was mounting tension between them. Instead, Markus pulled her by the ankles closer to him.
“You too far away,” he muttered.
Reign yelped. “Markus, I’ve been over here for like a week.”
“A week too damn long, come here and take that big ass sweatshirt off. You keep takin’ my shit,” he teased.
“If you leave it here, it’s mine. And why do you want to be all on me?” she quipped jokingly, but she wanted the assurance.
“You know why. You know a nigga like feeling you against him. Stop actin’ like you don’t want it and let me hold you,” he stated as Reign attempted to fix her bonnet.
“You could’ve just asked,” she huffed, a smirk buried underneath her frown. “And I’m not taking off my sweatshirt. I’m fine.”
“Watch, I give it ten minutes. You gon’ be hot as hell trying to get it off. You do this every night.”
“No, I don’t,” Reign defended, like she didn’t have a habit of kicking off her pants every night. For that reason, she was sure to wear shorts underneath when he was around.
“You do. Around three, you kicking your pants off and tossing them on the floor. That and silk pajamas. My sweatshirt and those leggings are going to be tossed on the floor in ten minutes,” he stated confidently.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she sassed. “I’ll be fine.”