started with a lie ➳ raura revised

Chapter Twenty-Eight

My hand is ripped away from Marcel's and I look over and see Ross with a pokerface but I can tell he's angry by the way his jaw is clenched so hard. Ross looks over to me for a split second before focusing his death glare onto Marcel.

Marcel acts like nothing happened. "What about a rose for your brother?"

And now I pray for this Marcel because Ross grips my hand hard. Ross sets his eyes on Marcel and walks a little closer to him. "I'm not her brother," he says in a calm voice. "She's my fiance so please refrain from laying your hands on her, sir." Fiance, what?

Marcel never stops smiling. "Of course, of course."

"Good." Ross holds my hand gently and tugs me along to the convenient store in the corner. He doesn't say anything to me but I know once we're back in the car I will get an earful from him. In the store, he only says, "Stay here." Then he walks to the back of the store to probably look for some food for our trip.

Of course, I don't listen.

I see flowers outside the convenient store and they all look in full bloom because of the perfect May weather. I go outside and see that they're selling twenty bucks for a bouquet of flowers of any choice and I'm really tempted to buy them because they're amazingly pretty but I know we need the money for good reason.

"I can still offer you that flower free of charge."

I jump a little, startled. Beside the flowers and behind the wall of the convenient store is Marcel, using a wrench to fix a part of a motorbike. He gets up and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and it causes some black substance to get on his forehead. I notice his fancy bandana at the moment and how he has an impeccable sense of style.

"Sorry about him," I tell Marcel as I inch closer to him and the bike.

He grins a lopsided grin and it's like seeing the sun rise a er a long and cold winter. Marcel is really cute and wow. Then a thought comes to mind and suddenly I'm trying to remember the last time I saw his face because it's so familiar.

"No worries," he says. "I get angry boyfriends and fiances all the time."

I smirk. "So you have a lot of girls up your alley?"

Marcel smirks back. "Would you like to join?"

His smirk is uncanny and it's starting to bug me where he's from. Where have I seen this boy before? Maybe I've never met him and my mind is playing tricks. But his dimples tell another story.

"Have we met before? I feel like I know you."

"Was that a pick-up line?" Marcel asks, twirling the wrench in his hands.

I press a hand to my chin and stare at him real hard. I look from his long legs up. He's pretty tall and has better legs than I do. His eyes are a nice shade of green, like the green in trees a er blooming. He has tattoos running up and down his left arm and I squint to see that they are various things—a rose, a ship, Things I Can't, etc.

I know that I've seen him before and my heart lurches every time I try to remember.

"Hey," he says softly. Marcel walks over to me and takes my left  wrist. He brings me over back to where the flowers are and outstretches his hand. "Pick any flowers. I will give them to you, free of charge."

I look at the bright dashes of colors from every flower. "I shouldn't, really."

Marcel looks at me. "Please do. I don't mind. And my boss inside probably won't mind I gave some pretty flowers to a pretty girl."