“I kind of ran into them, at a bar. And, well, I just haven’t been able to stay away. We aren’t exclusive, and I told him whatever this is, is just sex. I don’t want anything more. I fall too hard and fast, you know this,” she says with an eye roll. Her last guy she was engaged to within a month, the one before that she let move in after a week. She loved them all, she tells me, but I am not so sure how true that is—lust maybe.
“So, you aren’t in love with this one?” I ask as we walk out and head for breakfast. We climb into her car and head to the café around the corner.
“No, don’t jinx me either. I like him. A lot. But he’s way too dangerous for me, too much for me.”
“How?”
“Blaze knows what he wants, that scares me.”
We walk into the café and order straight away, knowing exactly what we want—pancakes and berries for me, and waffles for Tanika.
“What about Marcus? And don’t tell me you don’t like him. I saw you two together. Fuck, we all saw it… it was fucking hot.” She fans her face. “The way he grabbed you, kissed you, tasted you.”
I smile at her words. “He’s trouble,” I say, sitting back, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Did you meet him at the funeral?” she asks, saying the last word in more of a whisper.
“No, before it, actually.”
Her eyebrows pinch together. “How?”
“He was there when Mom and Dad were organizing the proceedings.”
Tanika’s hand reaches for mine, covering it and giving it a gentle squeeze. She pulls back when the food arrives.
“You like him, don’t you?” Tanika takes a sip of her drink.
“No, of course not. He’s—”
“Oh, you suck at lying. Totally suck.” She laughs.
“No, I don’t.”
“Is it because he’s nothing like your exes? Not a surfer-looking dude who tells you everything you want to hear simply to sleep with you?”
Damn, this girl knows me well.
“I tried to sleep with him. Twice, actually. It failed both times.”
“Oh my God… well, that doesn’t explain yesterday, then.”
I shrug. “I don’t even understand yesterday. I didn’t even know Marcus was going to be there. I’ve avoided him for over a month.”
“Was that painful for you?” She chuckles, and I withstand the urge to throw my food at her head, but it’s a difficult internal battle to refrain.
“He’s, well, let’s just say… what he does, isn’t something I am all that comfortable with.”
“You mean in the crematorium?” I nod. “Okay, but you met him there. What did you expect?”
I place my fork on the plate, my appetite now completely gone. “He took me inside, to scare me off.”
“Okay, so…”
“He started cutting a hand off one of the dead bodies while I was there.” I watch as she puts her fork down too. Her elbows come to rest on the table as her head is placed on her hands, and I wait before she speaks again.
“Holy shit, Roch, that’s…” she takes a deep breath. “That’s fucked-up.”
“Try being me. That shit was fucked-up to see.”
“So, you don’t want him?”
“Oh, no…” I shake my head. “That’s the problem, I do want him. No denying that. It’s just he’s so dark. So damn intense. Not one thing about him is light.”
We get up to leave and pay the account, leaving a tip in the payment folder on the table. Quickly, we walk back to the car, heading back to my house.
“So, I guess the question is… can you have him without wanting that part of your life with him?”
“Like just sex?”
She nods. “I don’t know if I want him for more than sex. Definitely not a relationship, which I doubt he would want anyway.”
“The boys told me about him.” I turn in my seat as Tanika drives. “And let’s just say, they warned me to stay away from him. Snow said he has demons bigger than the devil himself.”
I sigh. Of course, he does. Of course.
“Ummm… Rochelle, is that him?”
Looking up, I see his truck parked out the front as he stands at my door, one foot crossed over the other while waiting. Marcus’ hands are in his pockets, and he has on a white, long-sleeved shirt rolled up to his elbows with black pants.
He’s fine.
So fucking fine.
I wonder what he looks like with that shirt off. As a matter of fact, all of it off.
“Yep.”
“Okay, well, do you want me to come in?”
I reach for the door handle.
I am unsure. Should she?
“No. I got this. Thanks for breakfast.” Pushing out of the car, he doesn’t move until I reach him.
“Marcus. Or should I call you Reap now?”
He pushes off from leaning against the wall and steps closer to me. I can smell him, and my body instantly wants to gravitate toward him for him to touch me.