Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
THANE
Marlow is quiet on the drive back home. I keep sneaking glances at her, worried about her pensive state. She simply stares out the window, watching the gloomy, blurring-by scenery.
“Are you sure you’re good?” I ask, one hand leaving the steering wheel to grasp her thigh and squeeze.
She turns her head my way and graces me with a practiced smile that makes unease bloom in my chest. “Yup. Just tired. I’ll feel better after a good night’s rest.”
Oh.
Of course. She’s tired. I kick myself internally.
Before we left the motel, I asked her if she was good as well and she said yes. But I was afraid I was too rough. Except Marlow assured me that I wasn’t that rough—at least not more than she likes—and that she had fun.
But something about the way she said she ‘had fun’ left a sour taste in my mouth. It sounded so nonchalant, like what we shared in the motel room was a casual, one-time thing.
She’s sitting right next to me, except she feels so far away. I hate it and I don’t know how to reach her. It’s like she’s erected a protective barrier around herself.
But why? Did I do something wrong? Why is she pulling away from me?
I thought we were on the same page. That there’s no turning back after we crossed a line. I want to be with her. Forever.
Doesn’t she want to be with me too?
I rub a palm over my chest to ease the unexpected ache there. I don’t consider myself an insecure man, but I’ve been out of the dating game for years and maybe I’m not doing a good job at picking up the cues. Maybe now that we scratched the itch, Marlow’s got me out of her system and she’s done.
But I’m not done.
There’s no getting her out of my system.
I look over at her and my knuckles clench. She’s like a statue, leaning against the window, and sitting far, far away from me. Like she needs this distance.
Meanwhile all I want to do is erase the distance, grab her, and kiss her.
Fuck.
I want the Marlow from the motel back. The one who gave into me sweetly over and over again. The one who dug her fingers into my skin and kissed my mouth like she never wanted to be separated from me.
I try in vain to reach her by saying, “Will you sleep in my room tonight?”
Her head whips in my direction, shocked. “What?”
I swallow, anxious, and repeat, “Will you sleep in my room tonight?”
She’s staring at me like I’m an enigma. Eventually, she slowly shakes her head. “No.” That singular word drives into my chest like a knife. “I-I can’t. I’m not much of a cuddler.” An awkward laugh escapes her. “Sorry.”
Not much of a cuddler? After three rounds of sex, she clung to me like she wanted to sink inside of me and live there. She practically purred like a kitten when I ran my fingers through her hair and over her body.
But I don’t say any of that, biting my tongue.
I’m confused and hurt.
Maybe tonight was too much for her. Maybe she needs time to compute her feelings and thoughts on us being more.
I blow out a breath.
Okay, I can give her time. She’s not going anywhere.
In the morning, we can talk about this over coffee and breakfast. I’ll make her the pancakes she likes with extra sprinkles and whip cream.
And hell, if I have to beg her to be my girlfriend—to show her that I’ll treat her like a princess, I will.
I’m not above getting down on my knees for this woman.
I want her to have all the good things life has to offer.
And I want to offer them to her.
So when I pull into my driveway and help Marlow out of my truck, I swear to myself that I’ll do everything in my power to make her mine.
* * *
The next morning, I rush to the ceramic café to pick up our finished pieces, wanting to surprise Marlow and Michaela with them.
Afterwards, I go through the motions of preparing the pancake batter and filling the coffee pot.
I have a game in the afternoon, but I don’t want to leave my home until I have a conversation with Michaela and then my dream girl.
Both of them should be up pretty soon. I head down the hallway to Michaela’s room first and give the door a knock. “Michaela?”
“Come in.” Her voice sounds muffled and a hint sullen.
Twisting the doorknob, I enter and find Michaela sitting on her bed, stuffing her ballet essentials into her bag. She casts me a slightly weary look. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” I clear my throat and amble inside.
In the years that Michaela has been gone, I’ve avoided her room.
I didn’t touch a single thing inside, leaving everything as she last left it.
But once in a blue moon, when I missed her a lot, I’d come in and stare out her window and into the backyard, reminiscing on our days with our parents. “How are you?”
“I’m good.” She rubs her eyes. “I’m not in trouble or anything for coming home late, huh?”
I crack a smile. She hasn’t had a curfew since she was eighteen and even before that, despite my overbearingness, she didn’t always adhere to it.
Which resulted in a lot of heated conversations with me playing the role of her protector and her, being a rebellious teen.
“No. You’re an adult and can come home whenever you please. ”
Now she breaks out into a small smile and glances down at her feet. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”
“We have,” I say and cross my arms over my chest, leaning against her wall. “I was thinking, if you want—”
“I’d like to stay here,” she swiftly inserts and my eyes widen. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to move back here while I finish school.”
My throat is tight and I will myself to speak the truth. “Nothing would make me happier, Michaela.”
She perks up, her eyes, the same as my mom, practically glowing. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I palm the back of my neck. “It’ll be nice to have you here. Just like old times.”
She stands up and comes closer. “I…All those years ago? I shouldn’t have left the way I did and never looked back.
I was being selfish. I never considered that I was leaving you here, all alone.
I just wanted to be independent, you know?
And step out from beneath your shadow.” Her head hangs and shame courses through my veins, before it evaporates with her next reassurance.
“You didn’t make me feel suffocated, but I just needed space to myself.
And the more time we went without talking, the easier it became to avoid you.
But I’m old enough now to realize that every sacrifice you made, every time you disciplined me, it was for my own good.
I’m sorry it took me this many years to say it. ”
“Water under the bridge, Mic. I understand why you left and I’m not mad.
I get it. I really do. I hope this time away from home gave you the freedom you needed.
” I’m so glad we’re airing out our dirty laundry.
Communication with Michaela was never my forte, but I want to try to build a better future for our relationship.
“For what it’s worth, it was my first time being a guardian and I didn’t know what I was doing either. ”
Her shoulders droop further, like they’re weighed down by guilt.
“You were so young yourself when Mom and Dad died,” she mumbles.
“You did the best that you could and I want you to know that I’m grateful.
My life would have looked a lot different if you’d gone pro and I was being raised by a random relative who wouldn’t have done half the job you did. ”
Ah, fuck. Call me a sap because my eyes sting and there’s a prickle in my throat.
“C’mere,” I say and open my arms. Michaela rushes into them and hugs me.
We haven’t done this since she was a kid and I missed it.
“You never have to thank me for that. You’re my family.
I’ll always try my best to do right by you.
” I kiss the top of her head. “Things will be different now, okay? The past is in the past.”
“Okay,” she replies against my chest.
Things will be different not only because she’ll be living here, but because I’m going to be with Marlow moving forward. After I speak to the latter and convince her to take a chance on me. “Michaela, I have to come clean about something.”
She gazes at me expectantly, like she’s been anticipating this. “What?”
“I like Marlow and I want to be with her.” Saying it aloud is such a relief.
Michaela’s mouth purses. “Thane, I’m not sure how you’re going to fix this.”
I’m lost. “Fix what?”
She fiddles with her skirt’s pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. “Marlow’s not here anymore. She packed her bags and left last night.” She clears her throat. “After you guys came back from the motel.”
There’s a ringing in my ears. I fall back a step. No. I didn’t hear that right. Marlow’s gone? I don’t even have time to feel ashamed that my sister knows about what happened in the motel room. My throat feels like sandpaper as I drag out, “What do you mean, she left?”
Instead of explaining, Michaela unfolds the paper.
It’s a note.
She angles it my way and I snatch it up, instantly recognizing Marlow’s cursive scrawl.
Hey Mic,
I wanted to thank you and Thane for giving me a place to stay after the leak in our apartment. It means a lot to me. But I can’t stay here any longer.
I’ve packed my bags and I’m leaving. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up or say bye.
I’ll be staying somewhere temporarily while I hunt for an apartment.
Please don’t feel like you have to tag along.
I’ve seen you light up living in your old home again and you deserve to be there.
I think I can room with some of the girls on my cheer team.
Otherwise, I’m good on my own too. I know you’ll feel guilty about me doing this, but you don’t have to.
Though we won’t be roommates anymore, we’re still best friends.
Speaking of best friends, I need to confess something. I’ve never liked lying to you and this has been eating me alive for quite some time. Maybe you already know because Thane told you or maybe he hasn’t yet, but you still deserve to hear it from me.
Last night, I didn’t call a cab. When I stepped out of the party, Hank was following after me. He tried to force himself on me and Thane was there. He’d been waiting for you, me, and Addie to leave the party so he could trail after us to make sure we got home safely.
Thane’s the one who punched Hank.
Then I left with him and we ended up in a motel room.
I’ll spare you the details, but we crossed some lines.
I’ve liked Thane since I first saw him on the football field, before I even knew he was your brother. And I wish I could say I’m sorry for acting on my attraction to him, but I’m not. I don’t regret what happened, but I do regret the hurt this may cause you when you read this note.
I’m sorry for going behind your back and for risking our friendship. I’d wanted Thane for so long that I threw caution to the wind.
I hope you don’t hate me.
For what it’s worth, my feelings for him were genuine.
Thane doesn’t want me the way I want him and that’s okay. One day, I think I’ll find the person who can love me the way I’m desperate to be loved. But for now, I just need some time to lick my wounds in peace.
Come Monday morning, if you’d like to catch up over coffee, let me know.
And if this is the end of our friendship, I totally understand.
I just hope one day you can forgive me.
All my love,
Marlow
I’m reeling by the time I finish reading her note, the piece of paper nearly crumbling under my hard grip.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Marlow really thinks I don’t want her. How could I have made her feel that way?
I thought by telling her that I needed to do the right thing and speak to Michaela, she understood that I wanted my sister to know the truth about us.
Because I had no intention of hiding my relationship with Marlow from my sister.
But it’s obvious I wasn’t clear enough.
And accidentally, I hurt the girl I’ve fallen for.
I hate myself for doing that to Marlow.
I’m not supposed to cause her any pain. I’m supposed to alleviate it.
“I’m not mad at either of you,” Michaela breaks the silence, seeing the turmoil on my face. “You’re both consenting adults. If anything, I’d be happy if you ended up with Marlow. She’s the kindest, sweetest, most understanding person ever. She’d be perfect for you.”
Perfect. That’s the word. The only word to describe Marlow.
“I have to make this right. I-I have to talk to her,” I stammer. “She needs to know what she means to me.”
That last sentence is practically whispered but Michaela catches it nonetheless. “And what does she mean to you, Thane?”
“Everything,” I confess. “Marlow means everything.”
She gives me a soft, cheesing smile and lightly punches me in the arm. “Go get her. She’s no doubt at school, getting ready for the game.”
I have to speak to her before the game and right this wrong.
“Thanks, Mic,” I tell her, whirling around. I tap her doorframe once and glance at her over my shoulder. “For being cool and supportive about this.”
I head down the hallway, my pace brisk. I’m not going to grovel empty handed so I grab the bouquet of pink peonies I bought Marlow and the mug she painted.
Except when I twist it around and really look at it, I’m floored.
On the football field, she painted herself with her pompoms raised in the air…and next to her?
Me.
She painted me. Right fucking next to her.
In my coaching attire with my arm around her waist.
Marlow has wanted me for keeps and I was too foolish to realize it. It was never about a casual hookup or getting me out of her system.
She saw me as boyfriend material and I ruined it without even realizing it.
No.
No, nothing is ruined yet.
I’m going to fix this.
With the peace offerings and my car keys in hand, I practically run out of the door.