Everything I use to lull me to asleep is on steroids here, keeping me stirring for hours. A knock at the door makes me lift my heavy head. My lids are sleep swollen, and my entire body is sluggish.
There's another set of knocks at the door as it creaks open. “Mark, you awake?”
“Yeah, I'm getting there.” Rolling to my back, I stretch my arms and push myself up in bed.
“How'd you sleep?” Sia asks as she leans against the doorway. Crossing her legs, she's in jogging pants and a loose t-shirt. Her hair is thrown up on her head in a messy bun with wisps framing her face.
God, she's so fucking gorgeous.
“Honestly, I slept like shit.” Chuckling, I give her a sleepy smile.
“Like shit? Really?”
“It's different here. A lot louder than I'm used to. It was hard to drown out all the noise. I'm a country boy, remember? The most traffic we have back home is usually because there's a cow blocking the road.”
Her lips thin into a smirk. “Yeah, I thought it was strange how quiet it was when I was there, but I liked it. I liked being able to stop and listen and not hear anything but birds.”
“It's a beautiful thing. Don't get me wrong, the city is definitely cool, but it's not what I know.”
Rocking her leg side to side, she drops her eyes to her hands. “Well, we need to head out in about an hour. I'll let you get ready.”
Her eyes land on mine, and she stands silently. Licking her lips, I half expect her to dash into the room and kiss me. I can see it in her eyes. Soft, sultry, glossing over as if she's picturing it in her head.
“Siobhan!” her mother calls out.
The look disappears instantly, replaced with a heavy exhale. “I'll come get you when it's time to go. What is it?” she asks as she turns and closes the door behind her.
I lay in bed for a few extra minutes before forcing myself to get up. The floor warms my cold feet as I walk to the bathroom and take a quick shower. Looking in the mirror, I debate if I should shave or not.
Nah. Screw it.
I'll put on the suit, and play pretend, mingling with people that would never even look at me twice if we met out in the real world or I showed up on a stretcher. But that's it. I'm not going to change who I am for them. I just can't. It's not right.
Splashing some cologne against my neck, I put on the suit. Wrapping the tie around my neck, I fumble with the knot, then give up altogether.
Fuck the tie, I think to myself, folding the collar down.
Running flat hands down the front of the suit, I pop the top button free on the button-up underneath. Combing my beard down, I run a hand through my hair, and the dirt in the thick cracks of my working hands, catches my eyes.
Holding them out in front of my face, it's easy for me to see I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing. These hands are a mirror into the reality of who I am. A man in a suit like this doesn't have hands like these.
Thick callouses, deep crevices, stained to the point I can't even wash it away anymore. These hands don't match the finesse of this suit.
Straightening my shoulders, my jaw hardens as I stare at my reflection. I don't care what these people think. I don't care what any of these people think. This suit doesn't wear me, and these people aren't going to dictate who I need to be.
I am this fucking suit.
Confidence surges through me. Siobhan isn't like these people either, and she shouldn't have to mimic them just to fit in. I'm going to be me, and maybe I'll be able to help her find the strength to be herself too.
“Mark, you ready?” Sia asks me from behind the door.
Yanking the door open, I arch a brow and tip my chin high. “Hell yeah, I'm ready.”
Her parents already left. Her mother wanted to get there while they were still setting up to make sure everything is done exactly how she wants.
“Did you tell your parents I'm coming yet?”
“I told them this morning.”
“How did they take it?”
She rolls her head on her shoulder, peering up at me with eyes that say I already know the answer.
“Well, they're going to feel really stupid when I walk in.”
“Why's that?” she asks.
“Because I look so damn good in this suit. I'm like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Only I'm not a prostitute, and you're not Richard Gere.”
Sia laughs, slapping me against my chest. “I just hope this goes smoothly. I hate these things. They're always so uncomfortable.”
Slipping a hand over her thigh as we sit in the back of the town car her mother had sent for us, I dig my fingertips in her soft flesh. I'm going to take full advantage of any time we get alone.