"Marcel?" I run the space between us and meet him halfway, my anger fading immediately to change to worry.
"What happened to you?"
"Why were you leaving?"
"Are you kidding me? You left me alone in your flat. No words, no nothing on when you would be coming back. What did you want me to do?!" I retort with attitude, but I calm myself when I realise that he might just have gone through something dreadful to be injured like that and I can't hold it against him.
"I would have been back sooner if I didn't get bothered."
"Bothered?! That's what's gotten you that bloody nose?!" I question him with considerable doubt.
"Yes." He only responds, and I shake my head in disbelief. He never elaborates.
"Why were you running? Were you attacked? Are you followed?" I worry more and look behind him before I take him absentmindedly by the waist to help for support if he needs, and guide him back to his flat.
"I didn't want you to leave. Eddy texted me. I am maybe not used to having someone to my flat, but I am not a jerk, Grace."
"Next time, leave a note." I look up at him and smile slightly. That is if he wants to see me again, other than professionally. "Come on. I'll get you cleaned."
We make our way back to his flat and climb the stairs to his floor. I open his door and let him in. I follow him to the loo, and he knows exactly where to find the peroxide and the gauze to disinfect his wounds. He needs no help, but I insist. I make him sit on the loo and very gently clean all the blood from his face and his knuckles severely bruised.
"I am not a porcelain doll. You can be more firm." He says and practically laughs at me.
"I just don't want to hurt you." I breathe out and crosses his sight a second before I put all the soiled gauze in the bin.
He gets up once I am done and opens a drawer full of makeup. I definitely frown and look at it thoroughly. They are all skin-toned creams. He takes one of the bottles out and spurts a little out to spread on his face to hide the redness of his nose. He barely winces, which hints that it isn't his first rodeo, but it also alarms me. To have such a collection of concealer and foundation creams, he must be used to being bruised like that. It's sick. He does the same with his hands, covering his heavily scarred hands from any fresh bruise.
When he turns around, it's as if nothing has ever happened, that he didn't just get assaulted by I don't know what or whom. I don't even have a clue about what happened!
"Will you tell me what happened?" I rush out to now get some answers.
"Good morning to you too." He says and leaves the loo as if I didn't witness all that.
"Well, my morning isn't really pleasant so far, so why don't you ease my mind and tell me now what happened. We both know you will end up telling me I am stubborn like that. So save us some time and cut to the chase." I let out as I followed him to his bedroom, taking off his dirty clothes.
"Whoa! Calm down. Why do you even bother? I am here now!" He retorts arrogantly, mirroring my attitude, but it pisses me off.
"Sorry if I care that you are hurt. That's something I am not as used to as you clearly are." He takes out a polo but throws it on the bed before he faces me with a smirk. "Am I amusing you?"
"You are." His dimples dig his cheeks deeper as he hooks an arm quickly around my waist and lifts me to lay me on his bed. He hovers entirely over me, straddling me in what feels like three seconds. His lips don't seem to be hurt at all as he consumes me with his kiss, rushing his sudden lust or whatever on me.
What is he doing?!
"You can't do that!" I let out when I succeed to rip my lips away from his, which gets me the biggest frown from him.
I feel the thunder coming...
"Last night, you told me I could do what I wanted with you. Now, I want to fuck you."
"You are taking this out of context. And you can't just fuck me when you want." I crawl back from under him to have a conversation with him and not an argument like the way it is heading.
"What do you want from me then?! I thought you liked it last night?!" He lashes out at me, and I step back, clearly lost in why he would say something like that.
"Yes, last night was amazing, but I wouldn't even put sex in my top three of all the incredible things that happened last night."
He lifts his brows very high on his forehead as he steps back from me.
"Ouch! And here I thought it was different than everything I had ever felt before." He gets up and walks away from me.
"That's not what I meant, Marcel. It was outstanding. I didn't know what an orgasm was like before you. It was more than I could ever imagine. We connected. It was beautiful, but not only through sex. We talked, we laughed, we learned so much about each other... And all of that —and falling asleep in your arms— all that was greater than just the sex. So no, I wouldn't put sex in my top three of all the marvellous things that happened last night because I care about you for a lot more than sex."
Something changes in his eyes, and he crawls back to hover me. I don't stop him. I feel like it's his way of responding to me because the kiss he gives me is essentially different from how he acted only seconds before. I kiss him back and join him in the world in which he only knows how to communicate.
"You better answer my questions after, Mister," I whisper against his lips between two pecks. I feel his smirk growing, but never does he stop the assault of his lips on mine.
"I promised, haven't I?"
"It's not like I am going to make you forget." I mirror his smirk and run my hands on his bare torso and grip his back to pull him closer. "I fed Michelangelo this morning."
He starts to laugh at this random moment to say something like that. It's so inappropriate.
"I guess he is not the only one getting a treat this morning." He whispers back to me and slides his hand under my jeans to get a good feel, surprising me.
I moan despite myself, and I see the proud smirk growing on his lips. I get how I encourage him now. So it enables me to encourage him more. It's a vicious circle that I will take advantage of.
I close my eyes and totally submit to him until I realise that I could take charge also. I open my eyes and slide my hand into his pants to feel him too. His pupils dilate in no time, and it takes even less time for him to get me out of my trousers. He is in a rush, and I share it. I unzip his pants and slide them under his bum just enough for him to be free to take me.
It's more than anything he has ever made me feel because it's different. It's primal, it's rushed, it's beautiful, but messy at the same time. Is this what is called angry sex? No, that would have been before I stopped him earlier. It's passionate. That's what it is. We connect entirely differently. This is casual.
The louder I seem to moan, the harder he seems to thrust into me. I say his name, I curse, I hold him close, I kiss him, I feel like a new me is born as he makes love to me. I want him to know how I feel, and I express it verbally as he shows me the contrary. He grunts and growls, and God is turning me on, guiding me to his heart through his thrusts and his kisses.
I can't believe how long he lasts. I have almost time to come twice before he does. It's fantastic. How can a man be this perfect and this problematic at the same time?!
He leaves me panting on the bed as he already stands up to get dressed.
"Am I in your top three now?" He smirks widely at me as he buttons his trousers and gets mine from the end of the bed to get me dressed as well.
"It depends on the answers you'll give me," I reply with attitude and a proud smirk on my face as I look at him put the polo he had taken out earlier.
"Then I am not saying a word." He challenges me, and I pull him to me by his shirt.
He falls back on top of me, and I keep him captive between my legs. I peck him a few times and look at him, ravishing in this bliss he is in. He is in such a good mood. It charms me completely.
"Anything with you is at the top of my lips." I try to be cute, but he frowns.
"Lips?"
"Did I just say that?"
"Yes, you did." He giggles in amusement.
"I meant list."
"I figured, but it's nice to know what you think about."
"I was thinking actually about your tongue."
"Because you know exactly what it can do." He flirts and crawls back to grunt and fake devouring my sex through my jeans before he gets off the bed.
Who is he?! How can he excite me that way? I never would have guessed such an arousing and fun personality was hiding in his cold shell. How wonderful it is to see the real him!?
It makes me laugh as he offers me his hand to help me stand. I take it and get pleased to have him keep it in his as he guides me out of his room to the kitchen. He makes me sit at one of the stools on his kitchen island. I see him gather the kettle and the cups to put everything in the sink.
"What happened here?" I ask him as I look at the mess of flour all around us.
"I wanted to make you breakfast, but it didn't turn out that great, as you can see, so I headed out to get something." He grins and starts to clean.
"And you come back bruised. Somehow things didn't go the way you planned." I joke with him with a large smile, but I genuinely want to have a serious answer, so I try to be comprehensive. "What happened, Marcel?"
"On the way, I stopped at the office. I wanted to see for myself the contract and make sure you were all mine to publish. And you are."
"How do you feel about that?" I smile tenderly, looking intently at his reaction.
"I still can't quite believe it, actually. I was so hurt and disappointed when I thought you signed with Mum. I knew she was back, so I knew it would happen, but... I don't know..."
"But what, Mace?" I ask softly to force an answer out of him without him getting defensive.
"I guess I didn't want to let you go. I would have had to go back to reading boring stories in hopes to find one that speaks to me as much as yours does, and I didn't want that. I didn't want you to work with somebody that would crush all the work we have done together."
"We are in this together. And after I saw your office with your cork walls, I don't think anyone would be that devoted to something I've created."
"Your imagination is a wonderful world I have seen only a part of. I am already waiting for your next story."
"You are not even my editor for twenty-four hours that you are already pressuring me on my next novel. You can get the man out of his business, but never the business out of the man." I joke, and he smiles widely.
HE SMILES!! Ah...
If I could shout my happiness to see him like that, I would, but it would be weird. And I would obviously scare him away.
He is soooo gorgeous. I feel so blessed to make him smile like that.
"The contract is signed. You can't change your mind now."
"I wouldn't..." I flirt with him heavily as he gazes at me seductively until I look away and break his little spell like he puts me so often under. "Now, tell me what happened. You went to the office for the contract, then what?"
"I got a text from you." He says and gets very serious, very quickly, losing all trace of fun on his face.
"But I don't have my cell phone, you know that..." I let out and looked at him, trying to put the puzzle pieces together.
"I know, but I was so excited about the contract that I was happy you wanted to meet me downstairs. I would have taken you out for brunch."
"Oh no... Don't tell me--"
"Steeve was waiting for me. Sophie was trying to resonate with him, but the lad was too angry. I got to him before he could do anything to her. I told her to call the security in the building if ever anything was going on. I dragged him outside to talk."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing intelligent, really, or coherent." He rolls his eyes and turns away, clearly not impressed, maybe even disgusted or judgmental.
"What did you say?"
"To leave you alone... with my fist."
"Marcel?!" I exclaim and narrow my eyes at him. "Violence shouldn't be a solution. You are better than this! Why did you have to stoop to his level?!"
"Because it's the only way he understands something. He tried to bully me, that wanker. I wasn't going to submit to him, no fucking way."
"What did it get you?!" I frown in hopes of realising how violence gets him nothing, but clearly, he won't make it easy for me.
"First, it got him to be pathetic and miserable, which he deserves. Second, he will leave you alone. I made sure of it. And third, I got your cell phone back, so I can text you before I come to pick you up tonight."
He smiles at me and walks to my side as he opens my legs on the stool to sneak himself in between.
"Pick me up for what?" I get all excited that he wants us to do something together.
"Didn't you want to take me on a date?"
"I thought you had your thesis to do."
"I do. I'll work on it this afternoon after we've eaten the breakfast I owe you and drove you home to a guaranteed Steeve-free flat."
"That sounds good." I smile and pull his shirt to me to kiss him softly.
"This will be my first official date." He slowly admits to me once he gets his eyes back into mine, which brings a genuine big reaction from me.
"What?! What about your other girlfriends?"
"We can't really call them that... We just fucked. They were mostly people from the office. I am quite the loner. I don't like making new friends."
"I'll consider myself lucky then." I close the chapter not to enter the ex-lover conversation, which could turn out very awkward, and I get off my stool to try and help him achieve anything in his kitchen and get breakfast started.
-
I get out of Marcel's car feeling good. I am too happy to even think about if I have just committed a mistake by letting myself get so invested so fast with him, but I trust my fate. I have never felt that drawn to someone in my life. I didn't know how to react apart from being truthful about my feelings, and it played in my favour. I think.
The sun is shining on this day in London, and the air is warm despite the wind. I am really taking advantage of this beautiful and rare sunny day as I slowly walk my way back to the flat in my own little bubble. I am proud of myself for choosing to have Marcel's side and make him my editor. It reminds me of the last time I was as proud, when I wrote that scene with Marcel. He had triggered something in me, a side of me I didn't quite know I had, a side that showed last night and mostly this morning.
Wherever I stand with him, I am glad it happened. I don't know where he is in figuring out his feelings or how he sees me, but I am not mad anymore. He has his stupid twisted ways, and I can't change him. We had a magical moment, but I don't know where to stand despite our date tonight.
I get in the flat and brush off all the bad energy. I just want to go to sleep and nap before Sophie gets back from work. I really have no idea what to do with my time now that school is over. I don't work, I don't volunteer,... My book is being reviewed, so I can't work on it now. It leaves me entirely free to do as I please.
It gets me to think of the date tonight. What would be nice to do in London? A play would be entertaining.
I head straight to my room to take the clothes I need before heading in the shower to get ready, but my mind swirls with all kinds of thoughts. One is my meeting with Ms Wright. I am happy I stood up for Marcel, but I really had to insist on it. I sense it might have troubled our relationship a lot, and it bothers me even more now that Mace and I kind of like each other.
I get out of the shower and get dressed just in time to hear the door unlock. I don't expect Sophie to be done with work so soon, so I'm not surprised it isn't her face I see at the door.
"Ashley? What are you doing here?" I frown and kind of smile, but I wasn't expecting him in any way, even less with a key. "You have a key?"
"I know where Sophie hides it. I wanted to see how you were doing... With no cellphone, it's hard to get in touch with you." He smirks and throws the key on the coffee table before jumping on the couch, clearly making himself at ease.
"Well, I am doing very good, thank you. That problem is fixed now, but I guess I got to enjoy the peace for a while." I sigh and smile back at him as I put on mascara in the mirror between Sophie's room and mine.
"Your ex-boyfriend, he didn't make it really easy for you." He chuckles and folds his arms behind his head to lay.
"No, you are right... I plan on making my life less dramatic from now on. I left my old life behind, ready to start fresh, which is exactly what I will do. You must be so excited to leave for tour." I colour my lashes and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth, always listening to him.
"I am. We are leaving tomorrow. It's going to be so fun. The label is already talking about touring Europe."
"That's amazing. I was watching you guys last night, and people really love you. Your music is great. The venue was packed." I try to articulate with the toothbrush in my mouth, walking back into the living room to hear him better.
"They all come for Eddy. He is kind of the big deal, but I am glad if his fans enjoy our music."
"Well, I was a fan of you before I was a fan of him," I smirk at him and keep on brushing my teeth.
"You haven't even heard him play!" He smirks back at me, and I leave him to spit my toothpaste and rinse my mouth. "You left before his set."
I leave the bathroom and join him on the other couch in the living room. I mirror him and lay to get to know him a little bit more. It reminds me of all the lovely chats I had with Marcel about himself. It makes me realise how I don't know Ash at all. Even though Marcel doesn't like small talk, I got him to play twenty questions with me, and I know many trivia facts about him. I know that if he could only eat one dish for the rest of his life, it would be pesto pasta. He loves to play golf. He loves his routine. He is lost if something remotely different happens. But I guess I screwed that up since I came into his life...
I look at Ash with the firm intention to get to know him better. He types on his phone, and I think about what I could ask him.
"So, Ash? Tell me a bit about yourself... All I know is that you drum in a band..."
Once he hears me, he looks over his phone and puts it down on his stomach to look at me.
"It's all you need to know, really. Playing the drums is my passion. I am very lucky that, for now, I get to live from it."
"You don't have any other passion?"
"Not really, no..."
"Do you have a favourite book?" I quickly find another question to ask, thinking about the ones I asked Marcel.
"No. I don't read much..." He starts to laugh and checks his phone quickly again. I rush another question that I hope he has an answer for me before it gets very awkward.
"Favourite movie?"
"Anchorman with Will Ferrell. You know it?"
"I do, but I've never seen it," I answer, honestly thinking that these kinds of comedy aren't really what I like the most.
"You should watch it. It's hilarious."
"I'll keep that in mind." I smile a bit, realising how he and I have nothing in common and, apart from attraction, there's nothing really between us. It's really getting awkward, so I really need to do something to get out of this situation. "It's a bummer Sophie doesn't have a PS4. I could have kicked your ass some more."
He smirks and shakes his head, clearly disapproving. I have his attention. He slides his legs out of the couch and sits, resting his elbows on his knees.
"It would be sad if it were true, but I remember you being better at other things than that."
Just like that, he made his way to me, making his intention pretty clear. He is sneaking his way next to me, biting his lip, gazing into my eyes. He is doing everything perfectly, but I don't want him. I don't feel the need to be intimate with him either. I feel good about myself on my own. It's mean to say, but I don't need him to make me feel confident, proud, and sexy about myself. And it confirms how Ashley has just been not only a temporary fix but what I needed to know my worth. I almost feel bad to decline his advance right now, but I feel like it is the right thing to do with Marcel and everything.
"I am so sorry, Ashley, but I can't do this anymore..." I let out, and he immediately stopped as he was about to kiss me.
"Alright..." He only lets out and steps back.
"I'm sorry."
"You are seeing someone, maybe?"
"I don't know..."
"Is it the guy that surprised us the other day and with whom you left last night?" He frowns, but he isn't judging or anything.
"Yeah, he is my publisher. He is also becoming a close friend."
"Why did you leave with him? You could have gone with us."
"I know, but he had lots of questions to answer. Long story short, Marcel drove to Manchester last week to work with me, and he helped me with the break-up and, as you know, brought my stuff here. What I learned is that he had beaten the shit out of Steeve. Which is why Stee drove down here, apparently. He wanted revenge."
"Why would he have done that?"
"The break-up didn't go easy, and when Marcel must have seen the bruises on my face, he must have done something..."
"Wait... He hit you?"
"It's over now, Ash. Let's not talk about it..." I let out and get up.
I glance at the time and get back at getting ready. I invite Ash in my room to continue our chat as I do something with my hair. I lay down next to him once I am ready for my date until Sophie comes back from work. Surprisingly, Marcel arrives first.
He knocks at the door, and I open it, my biggest joy to reveal a clean-shaven, great-smelling, suit-wearing Marcel. I surprise myself to feel my heart racing in my chest at the sight of him that hardly a word can come out of my mouth. I feel completely owned by his only presence. He suddenly takes over my every sense. He doesn't wear his glasses and looks irresistibly handsome.
"Wow, you look great. I am clearly underdressed. Come on in, take a seat. I will just go get changed a second." I tell him and walk to my room, embarrassed to have not worn the black dress I took out before my shower.
I kick Ashley out of my room when I change, without even thinking about the two men being alone together. I take off my jeans and blouse to slide my little black dress and take out the pair of heels I had when we first met. I can't believe how chic he looks. What is he expecting us to do? I guess it could be perfect for a play and dinner afterwards.
I can't believe I am going on a date with Marcel! I feel all giddy and nervous but incredibly excited.
I get out of my room, and I see the two men talking to each other face to face, and I feel contempt that Marcel isn't being mean towards him like he was last night. He walks to the door to get us going, but I remember that I probably won't see Ash for a long time. So I head to him first and pull him close in my arms.
"Have fun on tour. Keep me posted. Text me when you are in Manchester. I'll manage to stay for the whole show this time." I smile brightly at him and step away from the hug to look at him.
"Thank you, Grace." He only says before he looks back up to Marcel, and I wait awkwardly in front of him if he wants to add something. But he doesn't, so I join my date by the door.
"Don't forget to lock on your way out and to put back your key. Good evening." I tell him before Marcel takes me by the hand to pull me away from the door and get us moving.
We get outside, and he walks to my door to open it. I take place and keep quiet, thinking back on how nice it was to get to know Ashley since I came to London. The other boys, too, were nice. Mikey was very sweet. I will miss them, but I can't imagine how badly Sophie will miss them. I don't think she works tomorrow night, so we can make a girls' night together to change her mind. We could cook. I know she loves food. We could bond over that. Maybe I could even stop at the market and get some alcohol, surprise her with a bottle of tequila and make us some drinks. That could be fun.
"A penny for your thoughts." Marcel softly tells me, and I smile at him, realising he has already driven us out of Hayes.
"I was thinking about the band. Sophie has been dating the singer for a long while and, now that they are touring the country, she won't see him. There'll be only her and me in the flat from now on, so I want to do something to change her mind."
"Why was he there?" His eyes slide on me for a short moment, and I guess that he might be bothered. He's never seemed to like him.
"He wanted to check on me."
"What was the key thing?"
"He had a key. That's how he got in the flat."
I look at him, and I notice just how cold he has been since we left. I roll my eyes at his reaction. I shouldn't be surprised. I don't know why I am.
"Are you really mad right now?" I let out, and he clenched his jaw harder. "What has he ever done to you? You were all in his face last night. Now that he leaves, why even bother?"
"Would you get off my case already?! I'm sorry if he makes me feel that way."
"Wow, Marcel. What a way to start a date..."
"Why was he in your room in the first place? Don't put this all on my fault. It's like you were doing it on purpose."
"I wasn't doing anything, Marcel. What are you even talking about?!"
"First, I see him coming out of your room, then you embrace him for a fucking long time, and finally, you think of him when we are together. How do you want me to feel, Grace?"
"Clearly not jealous. You have no reason to be. I don't even get why you feel that way."
"I told you last night how he makes me feel."
"No, you didn't."
"Yes, I did. I don't feel any special to you when I see you being all affectionate with him."
"I was saying goodbye, Marcel. It means nothing."
"It isn't nothing..." He only says, and I know how he just terminated this conversation. He completely shut me out.
"It is. Marcel, you need to calm down." I sigh and look outside the window.
"Calm down?! So it means nothing when you hug me as well? Because to me, it's kind of a huge deal."
He talks as if he had the emotional level of a sixteen-year-old. I shouldn't be surprised if it's because he has never truly known that. At the same time, I am used to the jealous type. Steeve was the biggest of them all. But it's like Marcel doesn't understand that him and Ash are not on the same level.
"You can't compare the relationship I have with you and the one I have with him. I share the same grounds with him. As for you, it's another language entirely."
"Do you even realise how you make me feel right now?! I am doing all these things to please you, and you spit it all in my face. Sorry if I care, and I go out of my way for you." He lets out, really offended.
"I know that, and I appreciate it a lot, but you just need to understand that he doesn't mean anything to me as it is the entire opposite with you." I soften my voice to make him understand what I genuinely mean when I say he doesn't compare to Ash. He's only an infatuation, whereas I genuinely like Marcel.
I reach for his hand and rub my thumb tenderly on his skin.
"Stop being mad. He is leaving, we are on a date, and I want to have fun with you. There's only you and me tonight and forget about the world and all the expectations. We are adults, we can do what we want, and that's exactly what we'll do." I let out and sigh deeply as I try to change the mood. It takes a moment, but I see him letting go of the issue.
"I don't know if you had plans for us tonight, but I've just changed them." He only responds, and I feel terribly sad. Why does he have to close himself all the time?!
"Please don't shut me out, Marcel." I feel desperate, but I am tired of this argument, so I let go. If he doesn't want me, let it be so, and we won't hurt ourselves anymore.
"I am not... We are starting over." He only says and clicks on the GPS on his dash and writes where he wants to go and, to my surprise, it's a hair salon.
"Why would you want to go there? A sudden desire to change your hair?" I start to smile, having hope that his mood has changed. And it has as I see the corner of his lips lift.
"Not mine, but yours."
"Why? It has been two weeks since I have seen my hairstylist."
"We are starting over. Just you and I, like you said. I want to know the real you, Grace. No Steeve, no Ash, no story, no work, just us for tonight."
"That's why you want me to change my hair?"
"I want to erase all the visible trace of Steeve on you, so you can move on. He corrupted you, and I don't want you to feel that way anymore." He says calmly but being quite firm as well.
"Why do you say he corrupted me?"
"I feel like you are more like Darcy than you let on because that's the only place where Steeve didn't have a hold of you, in your imagination. So I want to change that. Will you let me?"
I look at him, look ahead and sigh, surrendering. He is right. Although the last time I had ginger hair, I was being bullied, and it was hell in my life, I see beauty in Marcel's train of thoughts. This is very thoughtful of him. He cares so much about me, my feelings and my well-being. I am not used to that.
"OK... I want to start over with you."