Started With a Lie

Chapter Twenty-Eight

        “I’m sorry, no thanks,” I reply, blushing a little. It’s strange for some random guy to call me beautiful. My whole love life has been Peter up till now...and now Lee.

        Marcel pulls out a rose anyway. “Here,” he says, handing it to me. “Free of charge.”

        “Free of charge?” I carefully take it. “Really?”

        He smiles, “Yes.” Marcel takes my hand and gives it a kiss. “Unless you’d like to offer your lovely number to go on a date?”

        “Oh, sorry, I—”

        My hand is ripped away from Marcel’s and I look over and see Lee with a pokerface but I can tell he’s angry by the way his jaw is clenched so hard. Lee 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 Lee grips my hand hard. Lee 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.” Lee 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 after 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.