Ch. 30 Tours And Tensions
I wait to see if he comes back, but when he doesn't, I decide to try walking on my own.
I rise from the bed, and even that hurts. Every part of my body feels weak and sore.
It's not just my brain that feels more awake now that I've had a shower—but every bruise, every scratch is suddenly demanding their time in the sun.
I try shuffling forward, but the pain radiates upwards and outwards from my hip and a gasp escapes my mouth.
I try to take another shuffling step, but my hip gives out and I stumble.
Oh no.
In the split second between my brain catching up with my body, a realization zings through me—
I'm going to taste the floor again.
I close my eyes, bracing myself for an impact.
Hands grab me. I'm pressed against something warm and firm.
"Are you alright?!" Those hands pull me closer, and I can feel the frantic beat of Marcus's heart right alongside mine.
I slowly open my eyes, to find him looking at me with deep concern.
"I—uh—yeah. I thought you weren't coming back... So I tried walking by myself. Maybe we—uh—can get me a walking stick?"
I press my lips shut. I don't want to speak out of turn.
He gently pushes me away and straightens me, taking a step back. I instantly miss his warmth.
He keeps his hands on my shoulder to keep me steady.
I look down, but can't help checking him out instead.
He's wearing a white T-shirt and grey tracks. His hair is falling onto his forehead and his forearms are tense.
"I'm sorry I hurried out." His piercing eyes land on mine, and I forget to breathe.
There's something in them that makes me catch my breath.
"That's okay." My voice comes out squeaky, and I clap my hands on my mouth.
His lips lift to one side but his gaze is unwavering. "I'll always return for you, Celeste. I'm sorry I made you wait."
His words linger in the silence. Why does it sound like he means something more than what the words imply?
I stare at him wide-eyed. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "Come on, I'll give you a tour of the house while we wait for food."
I nod and brace myself for taking a step. Instead, he bends down and lifts me up, pressed against his chest. I squeak and wind my arms against his neck to keep myself from falling.
He turns around with ease and exits the room holding me stably.
"As you can see, this is the living room."
He turns around in a circular fashion, showing me the room. "The AC is slightly drafty but I don't mind.
"My favourite part of the day is curling up under the throw with a good book."
His face is so close, I can see his evening shadow. His cologne envelopes me—all woody and spicy. He turns his head to look at me and the intensity in his eyes takes my breath away.
I look away and nod towards the most interesting feature of this room.
"Take me to the book-wall. I wanna see."
He walks to the wall. I tap his arm. "Put me down."
Very reluctantly, he puts me back on the floor. I try to hold in my wince as I lean closer to the wall.
I immediately spot a photograph of him with his father. There's one with his high school buddies. Multiple photographs of tournament wins. One with Daniel Ingram.
And the crowning glory—one with the whole family.
It's from Keith and Ella's wedding. I pull it off the shelf. It's beautiful.
Someday, I too want to be a part of such a loving family.
It doesn't feel so impossible anymore.
I look up to find Marcus observing me in silence, a smile playing on his lips.
"What?"
His smile widens as he turns away. "Nothing."
"Shall we continue the tour?"
"Okay." He holds up his arm for support and I shuffle forward. I know I have to rest, but even these few steps make me feel less like an invalid.
Our next destination has my mouth falling open.
There are screens, so many screens. They sit on a custom desk, an executive chair waiting to be claimed behind it.
There's a whole wall dedicated to his medals and trophies.
"Have you ever lost a competition you participated in?"
"Umm, no. Not that I can remember."
I snort. "Humble much?"
He shrugs, and I can't help but notice how broad and strong his shoulders are.
I give myself a mental shake—and look away.
The door bell buzzes and we both start.
"That'll be our dinner."
He lifts me again like I weigh nothing and walks back out, placing me on a dining chair.
"I hope you still like fried rice. I placed our order while you were bathing."
"I do." I can't believe he still remembers.
I rub my chest.
He takes the delivery and empties it into bowls.
He grabs us some plates and cutlery and sets up the table. I look for a spoon to start eating.
"Say, aah..." A spoonful of rice hovers in front of my mouth, held steady in his hand. He's so close again, my pulse jumps.
"I can eat it myself." I reach for the spoon from him, but he pulls it out of reach.
"I saw you collapsed on the floor bleeding. You were unconscious for hours. I've never felt so helpless in my life. Just for a couple days, allow me to feed you."
His words are quiet, and the low tenor of his voice thrums through me.
He's so close now, I can count his eyelashes.
"Okay." My voice is a whisper.
His eyes darken and he whispers back, "Good girl."
He brings the spoon back to my mouth and we eat in relative silence.
Should've known, dinner was the easy part.
—---------------------
"Where are you going to sleep?" Celeste's question pulls me out of my thoughts.
"Right there." I point towards my bed.
She looks confused. "Then where am I going to sleep?"
I raise my eyebrow at her while inclining my head towards the bed. "Right there."
"Are you kidding me? You expect me to share a bed with you?"
"Why are you talking like it's repulsive to you?"
"That's not what I'm saying. You're you, and I'm me. We can't share a bed."
"Are you planning to sleep on the couch?"
She opens her mouth before it clicks shut. "You sleep on the couch."
I snort. "I literally wouldn't fit. Also, I need to be in the same room. What if you fall off? Feel pain?"
She rolls her eyes. "You're a pain. Look, you're my boss. And a man. This is all kinds of wrong."
"We're also high school mates and friends. What era are you living in?"
She turns to look at me skeptically. "Friends? Since when?"
I can see the hurt in her blue-brown eyes, and I wish like anything that I could go back in time and tell my younger self to trust his gut.
To not hurt her.
But I can't. Then I'll do anything I can to help ease the pain while I figure out how to pay back my debt and make her happy.
I lean into her personal space, her scent invading my senses.
Her eyes widen. She bites her lower lip. Does she even realize what she's doing to me?
"Are you saying you wouldn't be able to control yourself in bed with me, Shaw?"
She blinks before gasping. "I'm saying no such thing."
She looks away, pupils blown wide, and cheeks so pink, I'm hard pressed to step away.
"Fine, we'll share the bed. It's king size. Plenty of space for two people. We can do it. I can do it."
She's so adorable I have to physically step away.
"You're rambling."
"Right. Right."
I shake my head and step out.
I bring back the throw and a few cushions. I lay them out in the middle of the bed.
"There—a wall. For my protection."
She scoffs and looks at me in defiance. "Well, I'm going to bed. Are you coming too? Or are you too afraid you'll get devoured?"
I lift her up in one smooth motion while she starts protesting.
Holding her in my arms, so close to me—I can barely hear anything above my thumping heart. It's been a struggle to let her step out of my arms all evening.
I place her gently on the bed and kiss her forehead.
She goes completely still. Her eyes are so wide, they're like two 'O's on her face.
"Good night, Celeste." I whisper.
She turns a cute pink before smacking her eyes shut.
I smile and go lie on my end of the bed.
I turn on my side and close my eyes.
I swear I hear a soft "sweet dreams" behind me.
It's going to be a long, long night, isn't it?