The aroma of garlic and onions sizzling filled my small kitchen as I stirred the pan absently. I was trying to prepare a meal from scratch for once. We’d been surviving on takeout and quick salads too much lately. My phone rang, cutting through the noise, and I glanced down at the screen. The number was unfamiliar but local and not a spam call, so I answered.
“Hello?”
“Olivia, it’s Marcus.”
My heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. “How did you get my number?” I nearly mentioned Tommy, but stopped myself just in time, remembering that I wasn’t supposed to know he existed.
“Let’s just say I have my ways,” Marcus replied cryptically.
“I’m sure you do,” I said, aiming for disapproval, but feeling secretly happy to hear from him.
“What are you up to right now?”
“Cooking, actually,” I admitted with a laugh, stirring the pan more vigorously.
“What are you making?”
“Hopefully spaghetti, but I’m slightly worried that homemade sauce is beyond my skill level.”
Marcus laughed, and the sound reverberated through my entire body. “Want some help? I can’t cook for shit, but I’m very good at ordering food.”
“As I recall, you’re good at ordering in general.” I meant it to sound lighthearted, but some of the anger bled through.
Marcus sighed audibly. “I guess I deserve that.”
“I’m sorry,” I blurted. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t want to argue. I… I’m glad you called, Marcus.”
“You are?”
“Yeah. I feel a little bad about how things ended. I shouldn’t have run out on you. Again. I’m a grown-up. I should use my words.”
He chuckled. “Well, I’m an old man, so I can tell you from experience, grown-ups don’t do that very well either.”
“You’re not that old.”
“I feel about a hundred right now.” He did sound quite tired.
I wondered if this was the man behind the bravado. The vulnerability beneath the control freak. “Bad day?” I asked, leaning against the counter.
“That’s an understatement. Pretty much everything went wrong for me today. Even scared away a girl I think is amazing.”
I grinned so wide my face hurt. “The day’s not over yet, Marcus. Maybe something can be salvaged.”
“Perhaps,” he said, voice getting lower and sexier. “I can think of a few ways to cheer me up.”
My pulse quickened. “Slow down, there.”
Marcus paused as if imagining. “As you may recall, I’m very good at taking my time with things.”
I wasn’t proud of the moan that nearly escaped my mouth. No matter what my brain said, my body was still one hundred percent team Marcus.
“I do remember.” This conversation was headed down a dangerous path, but I didn’t really want to stop it. I was tired of thinking and considering, making the right decisions. I just wanted to… feel. Live. Experience.
“What do you remember, Liv?”
I opened my mouth to answer and got a mouthful of foul air. Looking over my shoulder at the abandoned pan on the stove, I saw the reason. “Shit.”
“Not really what I’m into,” Marcus said. When I didn’t respond, he added, “You okay?”
“Huh? No. I mean, yes. I’m fine.” I shut off the burner and slid the burned pan into the sink. “I am fine. Dinner is not, however.”
“Ah. I guess that’s my fault for distracting you.”
“We can share the blame.”
“Deal. But to make up for my part, come meet me somewhere for a bite. My treat. And penance.”
“Are you asking me out on a date, Marcus?”
“Only if you accept. If you don’t want it to be a date, it can just be a meal. Two hungry people satisfying their… needs.”
I pretended to ignore the double entendre in his suggestion. “I’ll go. But it’s not a date. You haven’t won me over again enough for a date.”
“Of course,” Marcus responded smoothly. “In fact, why don’t you pick the place? Make it the least romantic setting ever known to man. We can go eat communion wafers at a church if that’s what you want.”
I laughed, enjoying this lighter, less intense side of him, even though I could still sense stress and something else in his voice. “How about the open air food court on Fifth? It’s fun and shouldn’t be too crowded right now.”
“Sounds perfect,” he agreed. “I’ll meet you there in half an hour?”
“Sure, see you then.” I hung up the phone, my heart pounding as the reality of what I’d just agreed to set in. I was really going to see Marcus again.
Immediately, panic set in. What was I going to wear? I wanted to look good, but not too good. And not like I was trying to look good. Since it wouldn’t be a date. After an agonizing few minutes in front of my tiny closet, I settled on a pair of tight jeans that hugged my curves perfectly and a low-cut black top that showed off just enough cleavage to be enticing without being too revealing. I let my hair out of its puff and applied a bit of mousse to give my curls definition. A tiny bit of eyeliner and lipstick completed the look, and I headed out.
When I arrived at the food court, I couldn’t help but notice a car parked nearby that looked eerily similar to the one I’d seen outside my building earlier. It sent a shiver down my spine, but before I could dwell on it, my attention was drawn to the sight of Marcus. I had almost forgotten how huge and sexy he was, and seeing him again nearly took my breath away.
“Olivia,” he called out, a smile spreading across his face as he spotted me. In that moment, any lingering doubts or fears seemed to melt away, and I knew I’d made the right decision in agreeing to meet him. All that mattered now was the electric chemistry between us, and I couldn’t wait to see where the night would lead.
Marcus jogged over to me, his muscular frame effortlessly closing the distance between us. He started to lean in, as if to kiss me, but seemed to think better of it at the last moment. Instead, his piercing green eyes swept over me from head to toe, lingering on my curves, making me feel both naked and warm under his appreciative gaze. “You look beautiful,” he said, a hint of desire in his voice.
“Thanks,” I replied, allowing myself a small smile as I fell into place next to him. Together, we wandered through the open-air food court, ducking in and out of stalls to sample their offerings. We chatted about everything from our favorite dishes to the most exotic foods we’d ever tried.
“So, you’ve never had Ethiopian food before?” Marcus asked with a raised eyebrow as I eagerly sampled a piece of injera at one stall.
“No, but I’m definitely a fan now,” I responded, licking my fingers clean. The tangy, slightly sour taste of the bread perfectly complemented the rich flavors of the spicy chicken stew.
“Do you like sushi?” he asked, gesturing to a nearby stall offering an array of expertly crafted rolls.
“Yeah, but my taste is pretty pedestrian. I’m happy to try something new, though.
“Then let’s grab some,” he suggested, ordering a selection of nigiri and rolls for us to share. We continued to talk and laugh as we snacked on bits of what we’d collected, the tension between us slowly dissipating. It felt almost…normal.
As we passed the last of the food stalls, Marcus guided me toward a secluded picnic table just outside the reach of the bright lights. He set the pile of food down and turned to face me.
“I know I promised to take thing slow, but I can’t, Olivia. Life is too short to wait for what you want. I need to kiss you,” he said, his voice low and urgent.
There were a million reasons it was a bad idea to give in. But none of them mattered. Nothing could compare to the way Marcus made me feel. And so I nodded.
He leaned in slowly, gently pressing his lips against mine. The initial softness of the kiss quickly gave way to an all-consuming heat, our mouths hungrily devouring each other, starved for this connection. Our hands roamed freely, touching, rubbing, groping, exploring every inch of one another.
The world around us seemed to fade away until there was only Marcus and me, our passion consuming us like a wildfire. My heart raced, my body aching for more of him.
In an instant, everything went to hell.
“Party’s over, lovebirds,” a voice snarled, startling us apart from each other.
A group of men in ski masks appeared out of nowhere, surrounding us . Fear coursed through me as I tried to take in the situation. Marcus quickly slid my body between his and the table, positioning himself between me and the attackers.
“Stay behind me,” he ordered, his voice tense but steady.
The largest of the masked men lunged at Marcus, who swung a massive fist and knocked the man aside. But that just spurred the others on. They came at him as one, overwhelming him. Marcus fought back valiantly, trying to protect me from the onslaught. Despite his size and strength, there were too many of them, and it was impossible for him to keep them at bay.
“Marcus!” I cried out, scared for both him and myself. I wanted to help him, so I grabbed the nearest object – a discarded drink bottle – and swung it at one of the attackers, hoping to distract him.
“Get the fuck out of the way, bitch!” the man spat, shoving me aside with brutal force. I stumbled and hit my head on the bench, the world spinning around me. Dizziness overcame me.
“Olivia!” Marcus shouted, his attention momentarily diverted from the fight. One attacker took advantage of his distraction and brutally punched him, sending Marcus to his knees.
Shouts from the food court were distorted, and I wondered why my hearing wasn’t working properly. There were a few more moments of scuffling and then the sound if sirens approaching.
“Back to the van!” one of the attackers yelled. The masked men fled, leaving Marcus and me battered and broken in their wake. He rushed over to me, lowering me gently to the ground, cradling my head in his lap.
Something wet landed on my forehead and dripped into my eyes, making them even blurrier. I blinked and realized what it was. Blood leaking from his nose.
“Oh,” I said softly as a wave of nausea rolled over me. The lights began to dim.
“Olivia, you’re going to be okay,” Marcus whispered urgently, his voice cracking with emotion.
“Marcus…” I managed to murmur, the pain and shock overwhelming me. The last thing I remembered before losing consciousness were his strong arms lifting me up, and a promise in his voice that he would take care of me no matter what.