“Thank you again for dinner tonight. It was—”Fantastic? Amazing?A glimpse at a life just outside my reach? The words caught in my throat, each one inadequate to capture the warmth inside me. “It was very special.”
I exchanged one last look with Marc—a look that said so much without words, filled with a blend of gratitude, longing, and something unspoken—before turning toward the door.
I stepped through the front door, fishing my keys out of my pocket, when they slipped from my grasp, clattering onto the porch with a metallic jingle.
“Here, let me help you with that,” Marc said from behind me, already bending down.
Our hands brushed as we both reached for the keys, the heat of his touch burning my skin through that brief contact. We straightened up together, and there he was, so close I could see the flecks of amber in his dark eyes.
Time seemed to slow as Marc’s gaze held mine, a magnetic pull drawing me closer. The air between us charged with energy. In that intense moment, my thoughts shouted warnings about boundaries, but my heart silenced them. Marc leaned in, and before I thought to pull away or even fully register what was happening, his lips brushed against mine.
The kiss was a revelation—a blend of soft longing and desperate need. Gentle, tentative but undeniably present—a question and an answer all at once. His breath mingled with mine for a fleeting moment that etched itself into my memory, this undeniable connection between us both electrifying and terrifying.
Then he stepped back abruptly, a flush creeping over his cheeks. “Ken, I’m… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
Regretful and embarrassed, that’s how he sounded, his apology hanging in the air.
My breath hitched in my throat, the warmth of Marc’s lips still lingering as if they’d left a permanent imprint. Thoughts and emotions spun inside me, a tempest of conflicting desires and doubts. “It’s okay,” I whispered, though my mind was a whirlwind. The proximity of our bodies sent shivers down myback, and though it was wrong, hunger and longing rose within me.
I wanted this man. I wanted to pull his head back down to me, crushing our mouths together, wrapping my arms around him.
But I couldn’t. Not like this.
“I didn’t mean to cross any lines,” Marc continued, his voice low. He looked as though he was bracing for rejection, and the vulnerability in his eyes tugged at my heart.
“No lines crossed.” I swallowed hard, my mind trying to rationalize both the thrill and terror of this unexpected intimacy. “It’s just…” My voice trailed off as I searched for the right words. The intensity of my feelings threatened to overwhelm me. How could something so simple as his lips pressed against mine for a few seconds feel so profound, so life-changing?
Marc waited, his gaze never leaving mine.
“It’s complicated,” I managed to say.
He nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry for putting you in this position.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I said, my hand reaching up to touch his chest, the heat of his skin under that thin t-shirt blazing my fingertips. Words tumbled out before I stopped them. “I’m not sorry you kissed me, Marc. It’s the timing—it’s off.” My fingers dropped, and I held onto my car keys with both hands, a lifeline back to reality.
“Yeah, the timing…” Marc looked down, and a silence fell, loaded with all the things we weren’t saying.
I took a step back, needing space to breathe and think. “I should go,” I said, more to myself than to him.
Marc gave me a small nod. “Okay. Drive safe.”
As I walked to my car, the coolness of the night couldn’t quench the heat that had flared between us. Inside my vehicle, my hands gripped on the steering wheel as I took one last lookat his silhouette standing on the porch. “Goodnight,” I called out softly, even though I knew he didn’t hear me.
The drive home was quiet except for the hum of my car on the road. Alone with my thoughts, I replayed that brief kiss over and over again in my head. Each recollection only intensified the turmoil inside me—yearning, fear, hope, and doubt all mingling in a jumbled mess.
I walked into my dark apartment, my mind racing, replaying the moment Marc’s lips met mine. It was a kiss that shouldn’t have happened, yet something I’d unknowingly been waiting for, almost expecting. Sparks of warmth from that brief embrace still lingered on my lips, refusing to fade.
Yeah, the timing was bad, but in a few months, maybe we could give it a try.
A smile quirked on my face—Marc Mendez liked me. Wanted me.
I could be patient. I could wait for that amazing man, with his strong heart and loving spirit, the best father I’d ever met.
Flipping on the light, I tossed my keys onto the small table by the door and shrugged off my jacket. The quiet of my place enveloped me, a stark comparison to the warmth and laughter that had filled Marc’s home just moments ago.
As I headed toward my bedroom, a familiar chime from my phone cut through the silence. I pulled it out, expecting a message from Stella or a reminder for tomorrow’s lesson plan. Instead, a notification from the PrivatelyYours app flashed on my screen, stopping me in my tracks, a message I hadn’t seen in months.
Magic Marco is going live soon.
