Lydia
Stalker: Do you have a jersey?
Me: No. Why?
Stalker: Because I need your name and number.
THIS HAS BECOME Marcus’s thing where he’ll text me some cheesy pick-up line out of nowhere. I pretend not to like it, but I do because they always make me laugh.
Me: You have my name and my number, goober.
Stalker: But I made you smile.
I grin as I type.
Me: Did not.
Stalker: Sure I didn’t. Have any plans tonight?
Me: Nope.
Stalker: You do now. Pack an overnight bag. I’ll come by to pick you up at eight.
Overnight? Am I ready for that? I mean, it seems a little fast, doesn’t it?
Oh God, I sound like a prude. I’m getting stuck in my head again and need to relax. Plus, I’m getting a little ahead of myself given I don’t know what we’ll be doing anyway. Marcus is different and I can’t put my finger on why. He sets my mind at ease and I’m completely comfortable around him. What’s more surprising is I’m always looking forward to the next time I get to see him. It’s a foreign feeling for someone who has worked so hard to push every man away, even going as far as to make up a fake husband.
I stare at my closet for I don’t know how long. Trying to decide what to pack is a little more challenging than I thought. I don’t want to send the wrong signals by wearing the nighties I usually go to bed in. Then again, I also don’t want to look like a nun either. I shouldn’t care about this. He’ll hardly see me in it anyway because we’ll be sleeping. With a sigh, I force my brain to shut the hell up, stop overthinking, and grab some yoga pants and a loose shirt. I throw in the rest of my stuff, and am ready to go in ten minutes.
Taking my bag from the car, he holds my hand and leads me through the house. Instead of stopping to put my things down, we go straight for the back door. His swiftness to get us back there heightens my curiosity and my excitement. When we make it through the door, my hands go to my mouth as it drops open.
“Oh my God, Marcus. You did all this?”
It’s like a fairy tale. There are lanterns strung between the trees and a fire pit is burning in the center of the yard. Behind the pit, sits an open tent made from lightweight fabric, creating the perfect enclosure for us to sit in while taking in our surroundings. When I get closer, I see a tray with tea light candles and some snacks sitting on top of blankets. The whole back yard radiates with a warm glow making it super romantic. It’s obvious he put some thought and effort into tonight.
“Do you like it?” he asks, uncertainty in his voice.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I absolutely love it. This is gorgeous. I don’t even know what to say.”
He holds his hand out, gesturing for me to crawl into the tent. “Say you’ll sleep under the stars with me.” Between the warm glow from the fire radiating off of his face and the affection shining clear in his eyes, I’d do just about anything he asked of me right now.
“I’d love to,” I reply.
He sets my bag inside the tent and helps me inside once I take off my shoes, before following in after me. It’s a lot cozier once you’re inside, putting Marcus and me close to each other. With the front completely open, we have a perfect view of our surroundings. It’s very romantic.
“Wine?” he asks, pointing to our glasses.
“Sure.” I hold my glass up for him while he pours and can’t stop smiling as I look around at everything again.
We talk about our childhoods, likes and dislikes, and everything in between while we’re bathed in a warm glow from the candles and lights. It’s probably the most romantic setting I’ve ever been in, and I never want this moment to end.
“Favorite childhood memory,” he says out of the blue.
That’s an easy one for me. “When I was little, I used to do ballet.”
“Really?” His eyebrows shoot up his forehead.
“Well, I only did it for a year when I was, like, eight years old, and it wasn’t anything like you see on TV, but I remember really enjoying it.”
“Hmm,” he says.
“Does that surprise you?”
“A little. I mean, you didn’t have the greatest rhythm at the bar that night,” he says with a chuckle.
My hands cover my face, which turns bright red. “Oh, God,” I groan. “I was drunk, okay?” I knew this was going to come up eventually, but I was holding out hope that he had forgotten about my lack of skills on the dance floor.
“Mmm hmmm.” Removing my hands, I glare at him. “Sorry, sorry. Two left feet when drunk; noted,” he says.
“Anyway,” I exaggerate. “I had to perform a solo routine at a competition. It was the end of the year thing held at the studio and sort of a big deal, and I did really well. I got first in my age group.”
“Wow, that’s pretty cool,” he says.
“That wasn’t even the best part though. What’s always stood out to me is for once I was good enough for my mother. There was no nitpicking or telling me what I should’ve done better. On that day, in that moment, she was happy with the way I was.” I run my finger around the rim of my wine glass.
“This is probably the first time I’ve ever heard you talk about your family,” he states. I want to say, well, now you know why.
“I don’t see them much.”
It’s quiet for a few minutes and I feel like an asshole for bringing the mood down with my sucky mother. “I’m going to go change if that’s okay,” I say, needing a quick break.
“Sure. You know where the bedroom is.”
Grabbing my bag, I run off thankful for the solitude where heavy topics don’t exist. With a deep breath, I head back out after I’ve gotten into my pajamas. “This is really nice. You’ve definitely surprised me,” I say, once I’m seated next to him again.
“You must have low standards for me.” His mouth pulls up in a lopsided grin.
“Can you blame me? You do remember how we met, right?” I ask with a laugh.
“The elbow to the boob?”
I roll my eyes. “Well, yeah, but no. The awful pick-up lines,” I remind him.
“You mean the moment my full wit and charm were on display and you fell helplessly in love with me?” He tries to hide his smile, but fails.
My head goes back and I laugh. “Hardly.”
He arches his eyebrow. “It obviously worked since you’re here,” he states confidently.
“Yeah, your stalking abilities finally wore me down.” His head jerks back like I’ve offended him and I can’t stop laughing.
“It’s not stalking, it’s persistence.”
“Really? That’s why I have you under Stalker in my phone,” I say with a laugh.
His face goes blank before he tilts his head as if to say, Really? “You’re lying.”
I shake my head. “Nope. I added you when you were leaving me all those notes and I just never changed it.”
“Stalker, huh?” A predatory gleam flashes in his eyes as he moves slowly toward me. “I’ll show you stalker.”
“No!” I shout as I hold my hands up, but it’s no use. He pounces, pinning me to the floor and tickling my sides. I squirm as much as the small space allows me to.
Soon, all tickling stops as he stares down into my eyes and suddenly there’s a shift. The laughter dies on my lips as he looks at them before meeting my gaze again. He leans in and closes the distance ever so slowly until our lips meet.
I never get tired of this. Butterflies swarm in my stomach as he molds his mouth to mine. His hand goes under my shirt, setting fire to my skin. At a snail’s pace, he moves up my body, testing the waters to make sure this is okay. It’s more than okay. It’s needed.
My legs go around his waist and I pull him in closer to me. His obvious hard-on presses into my core, making me tighten my hold around him. I move a little, needing relief in the worst kind of way. With his hand on my breast, rubbing my nipple with his thumb over my bra, I’m desperate for more. He peels his mouth off of mine to trail kisses down my neck. I tilt my head back to give him better access. With my eyes closed, I let out a sigh while goose bumps run all over my body.
“Woah! I didn’t know we were having a party back here.”
Both of us jump up instantly trying to right ourselves. I pull my shirt down and am mortified that whoever is here just saw me getting groped.
“Goddammit, Sean,” Marcus growls. “I want my key back.”
“What? Looks like things were just getting started.” When I chance a look at him, his eyebrows raise up and down suggestively. Yep, I want to die.
“Get the hell out of here.” Looking at Marcus, there’s tension in his jaw and he seems more than pissed with our intruder.
“Okay, sorry, sorry.” He holds his hands up in surrender. He comes closer to us and has a seat right outside of the tent. I guess he’s joining us?
“What the hell are you doing?” Marcus asks, the irritation still present in his voice.
“I need your help with something,” he states.
Marcus lets out a sigh. “Sean, this is Lydia. Lydia, this is my brother, Sean.”
Now that I’m actually looking at him and not hiding my face, recognition sets in. “You were at that bar in Myrtle Beach too, right?”
He smiles, pleased that he seems to have left an impression. “That’s right.” I remember he was all over Paige, but she wasn’t having it.
“What do you need, Sean?” Marcus asks, the anger leaving his voice and giving way to more annoyance than anything.
“You know that function Dad is putting together next month?”
“The one I’m not going to? Yeah, what about it?” Marcus responds.
“Well, about that, I kind of need you to change your mind and make an appearance.”
Marcus pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ve told you a hundred times that I have no interest in being there. I don’t need to rub elbows with those people, so it’s a waste of time.”
“Just because you don’t work for Dad doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be there to support and represent the family.” There seems to be an undercurrent of tension between the two, but as quickly as it presents itself, it vanishes.
Marcus rolls his eyes. “I support you guys just fine. Plus, I have to work on Saturdays, so I can’t go anyway.”
“Oh, come on. You could ask for the day off.”
“I could, but I’m not going to.”
My curiosity is piqued. I wonder what kind of function it is and why Marcus is so adamant about not attending. Maybe he has the same relationship I have with my parents and it’s best to avoid them.
“You know Mom is all over me about you not coming.”
Marcus sighs. “I know. I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow, okay?”
Sean sighs. “Alright, at least I can say I tried.”
“Good effort too, by the way,” Marcus jokes with him, lightening the mood.
“Well, I’ll leave you two love birds to it then.” He grins with a wink, and my face reddens again.
“Out!” Marcus says. Sean gets up to leave. “And I’m serious about my key!” Marcus shouts at his back.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sean replies.
Once he’s gone, Marcus looks back at me. “Now, where were we?” He leans in to kiss me, and while I’m enjoying it, it’s a little awkward now.
He pulls back just enough to talk. “He killed the mood, didn’t he?” he asks as his breath fans over my face.
I nod and scrunch my nose. “Maybe a little.”
He shakes his head with a grin. “Intrusive asshole,” he mutters to himself. “Well, why don’t we eat some of this food then?”
I nod, glad he’s not upset that the moment is ruined. He puts some cheese on a cracker before offering it to me. I open my mouth and let him place it on my tongue. “What’s this function about that you don’t want to go to?” I ask, holding my hand up to my mouth so he can’t see my food.
“My dad’s in the banking industry, so he throws a party once a year to socialize and network with new and old clients. It’s black tie and everyone is so damn high on themselves. I can’t stand it. I know it’s important for what Dad does, but since I’m not involved, there’s no reason for me to torture myself.”
I stare at him, taking in his response. He shows me over and over what a real and genuine person he is, and this is no different.
Picking up a strawberry, he brings it to my lips and waits for me to open. When I do, he slides it into my mouth, his eyes never leaving my lips. It’s sweet and juicy, sending a droplet of juice running down my lip. Before I have a chance to lick it off, Marcus dives in for it. In a slow, sensual swipe of his tongue, he removes the remnants before he finds his way inside my mouth. My insides turn to goo and I melt into him. If I were standing, I’m sure my knees would buckle from beneath me.
I feel like a teenager all over again, making out with a boy I really like for what feels like hours. As quickly as our intruder doused the flames, they’ve been reignited and are burning hotter than ever. But instead of taking it any further, he slows the pace until he pulls away and places a kiss on my nose.
“Come here and let me hold you.” He situates himself deeper into the pallet of blankets until he’s lying down propped up by the pillows. With his arm held out to me, I snuggle into his side, lying my head on his chest.
“Goodnight, beautiful,” he says into my hair as he kisses me goodnight.
“Goodnight, stalker.” His response is to squeeze me tighter, and I can picture the crooked grin on his face.
With a tired sigh, I fall into a deep sleep with a small smile plastered to my face.