He keeps his eyes straight ahead, ignoring me, and that only fans the flames higher. I’m seething. “You are not the boss of me.”
The truck rolls up to a red light and he looks over at me, cocking a brow. His eyes dip to my chest before slowly returning to my face. A faint grin lifts one corner of his mouth. His deep voice is thick and smooth like caramel. “I think you’d be surprised how much you’d like me bossing you around.”
25
Hard to say no
I’m quiet the rest of the ride, still angry, but also trying hard not to envision the type of domination Marcos hinted at. I don’t think I’d like it, but a little part of me would like to know for sure.
The idea of what he’s suggesting lines up perfectly with the way he kissed me last night. There was definitely a take-charge quality to his actions, and I can’t deny that I liked the kiss. I liked it way too much.
Instead of driving straight back to the house, Marcos detours onto one of Whitman’s main roads and pulls into an auto supply store. “What year is your car?” he asks.
I answer without thinking, and then ask, “Why?”
Without responding, he exits the truck, leaving it running with me sitting inside. He returns in less than five minutes with a battery that he puts into the back before returning to his seat.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Your car needs a reliable battery,” he says matter-of-factly as he backs out of the parking spot.
“I thought you said it just needed a jump.”
“It’s best to replace it, so it doesn’t happen again.”
“Maybe you’re right, but this was also not your decision to make,” I say. “How much was it?”
Pretending not to hear me, Marcos turns up the volume on the radio. I pull out my phone, get a cost estimate on the battery, and add it to the money I owe the men, though I might just let Marcos eat the cost, since I never asked him to buy it in the first place.
Back at the house, I make moves to get the battery out of the truck. I have no idea how to install it, but I’m sure the internet will be full of helpful instructions. Before I can open his truck bed, he nudges me out of the way.
“I’ve got this.” When I don’t move, he gives me a long look, his eyes letting me know that there’s no point in arguing.
It’s not a good night at work. Christine’s off, and her absence makes the hours drag by. There’s a table of out-of-towners who are rude and cheap, stiffing me when they settle their tab, even though I fulfilled all of their very detailed special requests.
There are a few cute vacationers in, but no one who’s especially appealing. Maybe my head’s not in the right place to think about hot men because of all of the shit going on in my life. I’ve lost my apartment and my roommate, and I’m living with four men who are mostly driving me crazy. I appreciate the fact that they’re trying to help me, but they don’t need to be bossing me around or using me to score points in their arguments.
On top of all that, persistent texts from my mother have been buzzing in for the past several hours. I ignore them and text my sister Rachel: Everything okay?
Rachel: Things are fine.
Me: Still on track for graduation?
Rachel: Of course.
I don’t know why I asked. My sister somehow always manages to do well at school no matter what kind of insanity is going on at home.
Me: When’s the ceremony?
Her response comes after a long delay: I’m not going to go. I can get my diploma without it.
I didn’t go to my ceremony either, so I guess I can’t really argue with her.
Me: Are you sure? It’s a big achievement.
Rachel: I’m sure.
Me: Remember you can call me anytime if you need me.
Rachel: I know.
When I get back to the house, I’m grateful to find that none of the men are around. There are faint voices coming from another room, but I’m hoping to go up to my room without having to face any of them.
Unfortunately, Devin appears before I make it to the stairs. “Hey, how was work?”
I give him a tired smile. “It was okay.” There’s no need to burden him with my complaints.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
“You don’t need to wait on me,” I say. “I have food in the fridge.”
His body language changes, telling me that I was too abrupt with him. I didn’t mean to be rude.
“I appreciate it,” I say, softening my voice. “I just don’t want you to feel like you need to go out of your way for me.”
He smiles in return. “I like having you here.”