Lydia
MY PHONE RINGS, waking me up. I look at the clock and see it’s only six thirty. I’m not happy right now, but when I take a peek at who it is, my lips form a smile on their own.
“Someone better be dying for you to wake me this early on a Saturday, Marcus.” My voice is rough with sleep.
“What are you doing today?” he asks, completely disregarding the fact that he rudely woke me up.
“I was sleeping,” I respond as I sit up in bed.
“Well, you’re not anymore.” I can hear the smile behind his words. “What else were you planning?”
My free arm goes above my head as I stretch, groaning in the process. “Nothing really.”
“Great! Be ready in thirty minutes. I’m coming to pick you up.”
Before I have a chance to open my mouth, he hangs up, leaving me completely dumbfounded. Then it hits me. Thirty minutes? Crap! I spring out of bed and hurry into the shower. Once I get out, I brush my teeth, throw on some makeup, put up my hair, and get dressed. I have no idea where he’s taking me, so I figure a pair of skinny jeans, some flats, and a nice top would work. When I’m done, I give myself a once-over and am pleased.
I sit on the couch with a huff waiting for him to arrive. My knee bounces with excited nervousness knowing I’m going to see him soon. Marcus never goes a day without reaching out to me. We’ve talked and text messaged each other several times throughout the week, but because of our work schedules I haven’t seen him since last Sunday when I redid his chair. I’m actually surprised he’s not working now given it’s a Saturday and not his normal day off.
As stupid as it sounds, I feel freer and I have hope that I can finally let go of the past. I won’t have to shoulder the burden of hate and resentment anymore. It seems like a drastic change for only knowing someone a short time, but I know seeing his messages and hearing his voice makes me happy. And a man hasn’t done that in a while.
I touch my lips remembering the way his felt against mine. You hear people talk about this spark or shock of electricity, but I never believed in it until that moment. As soon as our lips touched, I was on fire from head to toe and all I could do was hold on and wait to burn to the ground. Thank God he had me pinned against the wall, because I don’t think I could’ve stood on my own. In retrospect, I can’t believe I grabbed his face and kissed him. That’s so out of character for me and I’ve never been so forward before, but I couldn’t take it another second.
Stalker: I’m here.
I furrow my brow as I read his text. I guess chivalry is dead. I wouldn’t consider myself high maintenance, but if I’m being honest, I’m a little put off that he didn’t come up to the door to pick me up. With a sigh, I grab my keys, phone, and purse, and exit the building. When I step out onto the curb, I halt my progress and his reasoning for not coming to the door makes sense.
Marcus is standing against his cop car with his arms folded over his chest and one ankle crossed over the other. The part that makes my mouth dry up is that damn uniform. I don’t know what it is, but he could ask me to do just about anything while wearing it and I’d say yes, sir.
“Is there a problem, officer?” I ask as I walk toward him while trying to hide my grin.
“No problem here, miss. Just patrolling the neighborhood.” He closes the gap between us and reaches his hand out to me, grabbing me by my waist and pulling me close. I gasp from the unexpected movement. When I look up at him, the entire atmosphere has changed. It’s not playful anymore and the smile is gone from his face even though his eyes shine bright.
Ever so slowly, he leans down and places the softest, sweetest kiss on my lips. My insides turn to goo as I melt into him. It’s the purest of gestures. This kiss isn’t about sex or fulfilling one’s baser needs. This is tender and kind. He’s so gentle in the way he holds me and touches my lips with his it’s as if he’s afraid he’ll break me.
He could.
The thought is fleeting, but it hits me hard because it’s true. Marcus is funny and kind, sexy and smart, and I know that given enough time, I could totally fall for him.
What if I let him in and he crushes me? I don’t know if my heart could handle that a second time.
Pulling back, I look up at him again. “I would’ve come and gotten you, but it would’ve ruined the element of surprise,” he explains before he winks. “Let’s go.” He grabs my hand and pulls me to his patrol car.
“You still haven’t told me what we’re doing today,” I tell him as he helps me into the front seat.
“I got to see you in your element, so I thought I’d show you mine. We’re going to run to the station real quick, fill out some forms, and you’re going to go on a ride along with me.” He closes the door on me before I get to respond. I’m noticing he does this a lot when he’s afraid I’ll argue, but I’m actually excited about this.
“What if you get into a shootout with someone or something bad happens?” I ask once he gets in the car.
He looks over at me as if to say, Really? “This is Apex, Lydia, not Compton.”
I roll my eyes at him. “I’m aware, but you never know. The crazies live everywhere.”
“Well, that’s what the waiver is for.” He puts the car in drive and we’re on our way, but my mouth drops open.
“Marcus!” I swat his arm, which makes him chuckle.
“I’m kidding. We’ll be fine, I promise. You trust me, don’t you?”
Trust.
It’s the strongest thing a relationship is built on, yet it can crumble to pieces so easily. Trust is hard-earned and quickly lost, and in my case, it takes a hell of a lot more time for me to say I trust someone.
“Lydia, do you trust me?” he asks again, more serious than the last time when I don’t reply.
“I trust you to not get me killed,” I answer, trying to skirt around the thoughts running through my mind.
He looks at me from the corner of his eye with an expression I can’t quite read. I’m not sure if he picks up on my evasiveness in regards to trusting him as a whole, but he doesn’t ask again and I’m glad. I don’t want to tell him the truth because no, I don’t trust him completely.
Yet.
Patrols are actually pretty boring, which I suppose is good. We drive around for a while just waiting for a call or spotting someone who needs help. The one positive is it’s given us a chance to learn more about each other. I learn that he graduated head of his class with a degree in criminal justice, and I tell him about the time I painted my hamster’s toes—well, feet—when I was six years old. We trade stories, keeping to light topics, and I’m really enjoying it.
“Did the crew finish your built-ins?” I ask him, referring to the built-in shelves I designed to go around the fireplace to create a strong focal point.
“Yeah, they finished the recessed lighting too,” he tells me with his eyes trained on the road.
“Great. What do you think?” I bite my lip waiting for his reply. I want every client to be happy, but his opinion means a little more than most.
“It looks awesome so far. I took some pictures and was going to send them to you. Go ahead and look.” He points at his console where his phone lays.
Picking it up, I slide my finger across the screen, which prompts me for his passcode. “Here, you have to enter your code.”
“It’s seven, seven, eight, eight.”
“Very complex of you,” I joke.
He shrugs. “It’s easy for me to remember.”
I find his pictures and scroll through the images. Images of his living room are the most recent he’s taken. “Wow, it looks amazing!” I can’t hide my excitement. The stark white of the shelves against the soft gray of the walls is stunning, and the stacked stone I ordered for the fireplace is going to compliment it perfectly.
He chuckles softly, seeming amused with my enthusiasm. We pull over along the curb and he unbuckles his seat belt. I instantly look around on alert for anything that looks out of the ordinary. “Just wait here. I’ll be back in a sec.”
My eyes never leave him as he jogs across the street. When he reaches the other side, he stops to talk to this little old lady. She’s moving so slow it’s clear she has a hard time getting around even with the aid of her walker. Her back is hunched over and she’s struggling to balance this box on top of her walker as she tries to slide it down the sidewalk.
They exchange some words before he picks the box up, puts it under one arm, and places his other arm around her back to help support and guide her. They both stop at an old, red Buick where he puts the box in the trunk for her. After ensuring she gets in okay, he jogs back across the street and gets into the car. I can’t suppress the smile that takes over my face. That might be the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Alright, let’s get back to it, shall we?” I nod, a residual grin still on my face as I stare at his profile while he drives.
I think what I love most about his act of kindness is that he thought nothing of it. He didn’t come back here to seek recognition or praise for helping her. He just buckled his seat belt again and went on with his day. Seth was nothing like that; always wanting people to notice when he went out of his way for anyone. You know it comes from the heart when the reward is in knowing you’ve helped someone. Looking back, Seth was self-serving in even the smallest of gestures. The stark contrast between the two is another tool chipping away at my already weakened armor. It’s weird that I think about him in this moment. I guess it’s natural to compare the two seeing as Seth was the only relationship I’ve ever had. As high school sweethearts, I thought he’d be my only too, but I was wrong.
Getting off that train of thought, I focus back on Marcus. “You’re kind of a softy, aren’t you?”
His head jerks back slightly. “Psshh, what?”
“Behind the big, hard muscles is a big old teddy bear.”
“No way. I’m hardcore. I’m badass. I’m mean,” he argues while keeping his eyes on the road.
“Uh huh,” I say, still giving him a hard time.
“Are you saying that because of what I did back there?” he asks, pointing behind him. “That wasn’t what it looked like.”
“Oh, really? Because it looked like you helped that sweet, old lady to her car because she was struggling.”
“That wasn’t it at all. I’ve seen her type on the streets before and she looked suspicious. It was all a cover to check the box. We’ve had recent reports of people disguised as the elderly to transport drugs.” He almost says all of this with a straight face. Almost.
“Softy,” I whisper to him.
“Just don’t tell anyone,” he whispers back.
The rest of his shift is uneventful, even though we make several stops. You’d think Marcus was a local celebrity with the way everyone flocks to him. We were going through one neighborhood, and the kids started running out of the houses just to see him. What impressed me the most was he knew all of their names and who their families were too.
I didn’t talk much during those exchanges. I was enjoying watching him interact with everyone too much to break up the unity with a new face. I could see the admiration written all over the kids’ faces. They idolize him. He doesn’t do this job for a simple paycheck; he does it for the love of his community. He’s been chipping away at my hard exterior little by little, starting with his heart-stopping smile. But this might have put the biggest crack in my wall yet, and I know it’s only a matter of time before it crumbles to the ground and I give myself over to him entirely.
Marcus turns off the engine when we pull up to my apartment building and gets out of the car. Walking around to my side, he opens the door and helps me out. Goose bumps roll up my back when he places his hand at the small of my back.
“I had a really great time,” I say once we get to my door.
“I’m glad. Thanks for keeping me company.”
How did it get awkward all of a sudden? Maybe it’s because neither of us knows really what to do. Do I invite him in? End it with a kiss? Make plans for next time? I don’t have to think this through for long, because Marcus makes the choice for us by cupping my face in his hands and giving me a kiss.
I swear a content sigh leaves my mouth as soon as our lips touch. I’ve been eager to feel his mouth against mine all day long. He slips his tongue in my mouth and my senses jump to life. My heart rate accelerates and my breaths quicken. My hands grab his wrists while he holds my face and deepens the kiss. All too soon, he’s pulling back and peppering my face with kisses. My chest rises and falls rapidly and my lips feel swollen.
“I’m off tomorrow, so text me if you’re bored, okay?” he asks. All I can do is nod. With a wink, he spins around and goes back to his car. As soon as he pulls away, I slide down the door until I’m sitting on the floor.
Holy shit, he’s good at that.
I’m in serious trouble.