I blinked. “Shopping. Hair. Makeup. See…I can’t tell if you’re trying to reduce me to a chauvinistic stereotype or if it’s just really early in the morning…?”
His eyes widened slightly as he glanced nervously between me and the cat, feeling judged. “I…I wasn’t trying to. Mos
t of the women I know would love to shop.”
“I’d rather take pictures of the turquoise water and breathtaking scenery. This might be my one shot at seeing a beautiful place like this. I want to soak up and see everything I can.”
“Surely, you’ll come back again.”
“I can’t afford to pay my rent. How could I ever afford a tropical vacation?”
Sometimes it was easy to forget that while Marcus and I came from two different worlds, I couldn’t afford stuff like that.
He blinked in surprise as I headed down the hall to my bedroom, Deevus—bless his mangy little heart—hopping loyally behind.
“I’m going to get dressed.” I winked. “Don’t steal anything while I’m gone.”
He laughed.
I took my time in the shower, washing, conditioning, and then re-conditioning my hair as he waited out in the living room. Hey—if he wanted to come over at seven in the morning, be my guest. Just don’t expect me to “hop to” at the slightest whim or command. After a while, I heard him speaking in a low monotone on the phone. My lips twitched up in a smile as I wrapped myself securely in a towel and skipped across the hall to my room. Bored enough to make work calls? My evil plan was working.
About forty minutes later, I finally walked back down the hall—wearing a haltered sundress I’d stolen from Amanda’s closet due to laundry day. I threw open my arms and wound up for a rather cutting one-liner I’d been developing over the last half hour, but fell short when I looked down and saw Marcus and Deevus napping together on the couch.
My arms wilted, and my face softened automatically at the sight. He didn’t look like an international tycoon when he slept. He looked like a little kid—hands curling into loose fists around the pillow he was clutching to his chest as his legs twisted up beneath him. A lock of hair had slipped across his forehead, fluttering slightly with his shallow breaths, and his face was smoothed free of every sarcastic line or mocking dimple. There was no ego. No scheming. No plans of global domination or whatever else occupied his mind. He was just another guy sleeping on a couch in Korea Town on a balmy Los Angeles morning.
Thinking fast, I hatched a ringtone plot of my own and carefully extracted his phone from his sleeping hand. A moment later, I jumped on the couch in front of him, holding the phone to his ear as select bits of You’re So Vain shattered the silence between us.
His eyes snapped open, and he caught me automatically by the hips, fingers gripping tightly as he struggled to focus. I froze in place as the lyrics faded guiltily away. He was breathing heavily while I was hardly breathing at all—heart hammering away in my chest as I was suddenly hyper aware of the fact that I was basically straddling him.
Great joke, Bex. Nothing says comedy like a mild heart attack with a sexual follow-up.
“Sorry,” I breathed as my cheeks flamed red. “I didn’t mean to scare you, just wanted to give you a ringtone of your own.”
He stared a split second in surprise, and then—to my great relief—his face broke out in a huge smile. His grip loosened ever so slightly as his pulse returned to normal.
“Interesting choice.” He shot me a rueful grin before his eyes flickered down to my attire.
It wasn’t his fault that I could feel it as his body stiffened slightly between my thighs. It wasn’t his fault that I could see the way his eyes dilated and lingered in certain places. It wasn’t even his fault that I was straddling him.
It was mine. The whole thing was a huge misunderstanding. I was trying to be funny and witty, but it had completely backfired.
“Nice dress,” he said.
“Thanks.”
His eyes flickered casually back up to mine, and I quickly slid back down to the floor.
“Sorry,” I said again, averting my gaze as he stood up and straightened his shirt. “And sorry for taking so long getting ready. You all set to go?”
He held open the front door with an expression I didn’t quite understand. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Chapter 12
Let it be said—I hate shopping. I always have. I was never one of those girly-girls who looked forward to every Sunday when she’d go to the mall with her mom. I ordered things online. I avoided the looping music, the stench of cologne, and the parasitic sales people all from the comfort of my living room. I didn’t feel like I was missing out on anything. I had no ambitions to change.
But let it also be said…I loved shopping with Marcus.
I didn’t know what had happened. It was like sometime in between him showing up at my apartment, and me almost giving him a stroke with his phone, he had transformed.