Cole relaxes, though I didn’t realize he was nervous at all. But Marcus suddenly slumps in his chair beside me, responding to something unspoken between him and Cole, and we all breathe just a bit easier.
And then, all at once, Cole ducks his head and turns toward Megan, grabbing her hand and pulling it to his lips, effectivelycreating a block between him and the road. I frown, trying to see what’s made him so reclusive all of a sudden. It takes me a few moments to notice the camera at the end of the block, too still to be someone just randomly panning for a skyline photo to post on their social media.
How had he even noticed that?
“We should go,” Marcus says, altogether serious.
I grab his empty drink and toss it in the waste basket with mine. By the time I return, the others are standing, Marcus acting as a barrier of sorts for Cole. Megan has his hand in a tight grip, keeping him plastered to her side.
“Sorry,” Cole mutters once we’ve crossed the street and the camera disappears.
“It’s all right,” Megan says at once. “If being with you means cameras, we’ll learn and adapt.”
My phone’s going off with the first notification before we even make it back to the townhome. I suppress the claustrophobic reaction and send a single word back to Kirsten’s question about meeting him.
Text from Charlotte: Soon.
MARCUS
The light in the kitchen turns on, pulling me out of my half-asleep stupor on the couch. The TV is already off, probably by Charlotte at some point in the evening. I rub my eyes and reach for my phone, trying to remember just exactly what part of the spreadsheet I’d left off on. I’d meant to finish through the first two hundred entries so I was on target for the board members’ meeting at the end of next week.
The time flashes on my phone’s lock screen, the brightness of it making me grunt. Just after one in the morning. Fuck, I hadn’t meant to fall asleep working again.
“Marcus?”
Cole’s soft voice has me sitting up fast enough the darkened room spins around me. He’s paused at the top of the stairs, a hand rubbing at his collarbone as he stares at me. I can’t help but notice all he wears is a set of black joggers slung low on his lean hips. He looks absolutely rumpled. It makes me want to press him up against a wall.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t realize you were down here.”
I wave away his worry and stand from the couch, tucking my phone into the pocket of my jeans. “Fell asleep working, no worries.”
His frown deepens instead of disappears.
“You didn’t need to take today off for me,” he whispers.
It’s not so much what he says as the emotion that filters through the bond that has me crossing the room in long, determined strides. No way in hell am I letting him think he’s something other than the best damn treasure of my life.
His breath catches as I crowd into him, urging him against the wall beside the stairs without ever touching him. Apple slowly surrounds us, and my dick jumps like it’s a personal invitation. It’s only then I realize that the collarbone he was tracing is the one with my bite. He’s been tracing my bond scar.
Fuck me.
“I’ll take every single moment I can to be with you,” I mutter, my voice way more gruff than it needs to be. Nutmeg blasts out from me as I watch his fingers trace one of the lines of the scar. “No amount of time will ever be enough.”
Slow down, Harper. He’s literally just moved in today. He doesn’t even have furniture yet.
Too late, though. I’m not about to take back those words when they’re the God’s honest truth. Luckily, they don’t seem to bother Cole. He relaxes against the wall, and his hand slowly but surely twists into the hem of my shirt. The emotions gradually morph under my sternum, the nervousness fading into contentment.
“Even with the cameras?” The words are barely whispered, like he didn’t mean to actually say them.
My stomach tightens. “Even with the cameras,” I assure him. “We were serious earlier. It’s part of you being with us, so we’ll adapt. It’sworthlearning to adapt.”
His body relaxes in increments against mine. Fuck, I want to lick my scar, want to bite him again so people will know I’m his, that no matter how many pictures they take, how many random people comment about it on social media, he’sours.
“You sure you’re okay?” I run my thumb along his chin.
“Promise,” he says. “Just couldn’t fall asleep. Figured I’d grab something to drink and then put on a movie to pass the time a bit.”
