Face-Off at the Altar
Page 26

“I mean, if you’re waiting for marriage, then it’s cool. It’s sweet.”
“No, it’s not that. I just haven’t trusted anyone to do it.”
Holding her close to him, he nodded, his cheek against her head. That made complete sense, and it also must be the reason why he felt she was holding back. She didn’t trust him yet. “I’m scared I’ll suck.”
He scoffed a bit at that. “You’d be great,” he whispered. He said it not because he wanted it, but because he wanted to ease her apprehension.
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head, pulling back to look at her. “Don’t you apologize, Mekena. It’s fine, and I’m good. We will go at your pace. When you’re ready, you let me know. I’ll be first in line.”
Her little lips tipped slightly as her eyes met his. “Really?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said with a grin. “And Lord have mercy on my soul when that goes down ’cause I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”
Her nose wrinkled a bit as she giggled. “Thanks, Markus.”
“Of course,” he said, tilting her chin up and kissing her nose. “Your pace. On everything.”
“Everything?”
“Yeah,” he said, knowing she knew what he meant. “I know you’re holding out on being mine.”
She smiled. “Just a bit.”
He held her gaze. “Can I ask why?”
She slowly shrugged, looking away. “I don’t know. I’m scared.”
“Scared? Of me?”
She smiled. “Yeah, you’re almost too good to be true.”
He laughed. “I fart a lot, remember?”
She laughed too, her face breaking into such a carefree expression. Like he wanted. “You do, but you aren’t like all the other guys I meet. For as long as I can remember, my sister has always said that guys were dogs, out for one thing and one thing only. It gave me a complex, that what if I’m not good enough and then they leave? But you, you actually like sitting with me and reading or watching TV. You don’t press for it, you press for my attention, which is nice. Truth be told, I’m afraid you’ll get it and leave.”
Markus shook his head, understanding her but also thinking she was crazy. How could he leave when he had the gold mine? “Nope, not gonna happen.”
“I hope not.”
“Not hoping because, remember, I’m first in line. Waiting.”
“There is no line, only you,” she whispered, and his heart shattered right there. She thought he was too good to be true. Shit, he knew she was too good to be true. She was smart. Beautiful and so damn sweet. Dating was a fucking clusterfuck. No one wanted forever anymore. They wanted right now, and then it was on to the next. He didn’t want a Tinder kind of love; he wanted a Facebook-official one.
And Mekena was just that.
But that damn fate. She had it out for him, and within a couple days, he ruined it all.
But Mekena was still there. She could have gone anywhere, but she stayed. With him. In a cabin a good ten minutes away from the main cabins—that had to mean something. As much as he wanted to believe he had a chance, he couldn’t help but think he didn’t. Though, at least he could apologize. Take the loss and move on. But even knowing that, he had a bit of giddiness in his step as he headed behind the counter to start cooking the pancakes he had bought the ingredients for the night before. He had a thing for pancakes, especially banana ones, and he also knew that Mekena loved his banana pancakes.
As he got to work, he was quiet, making sure not to slam the pans or make much noise, not wanting to wake her. When he finished, he put some on a plate for her, planning to put them in the microwave and writing a note to tell her they were in there. As he stuffed his face, he checked his phone as nerves ate him alive. He was heading to the rink in a matter of minutes, and he felt good. But what if he fucked up? He couldn’t lose this chance. He had to make a good impression and kick some ass. He had to.
Laying his fork down along with his phone, he lifted his arms over his head just as something moved below him at the bar off the kitchen. Looking down, all he could see was a big bundle of fur, and with a cry of surprise, he found himself flat on his ass. He wasn’t sure how he lost his balance, but thank God no one saw him fall off the high barstool except for what he could tell was a very fat cat. But as he took in the cat, he swore it was laughing.
“Asshole.”
It hissed at him, and he scooted backward, rushing to his feet as it came out, meowing at him. He wasn’t sure what it wanted. Though, it did look as if it wanted to eat him. Or maybe it always looked like that?
Still, he found himself asking, “Are you hungry?”
It meowed, and Markus took that as a yes. Looking around for some cat food, he saw none, so he shrugged. “I don’t see anything, buddy.”
The cat looked at the plate on the counter that was for Mekena and then back to Markus before looking back to the plate. Markus wasn’t sure what was happening or what power the fat cat had, but soon he was reaching for Mekena’s plate and he threw the cat a pancake. It hit the floor with a plop.
“Wait, can you eat that?”
Before he could stop the cat, though, it was inhaling the pancake. “Guess so.”
His phone sounded, and he saw it was a text from Jace.
Jace: Don’t be late, punk. I saw Jayden running this morning.
Markus: Overachiever, and why didn’t he invite me?
Jace: Told him your face was busted.
Markus: Douche.
Jace: Love you too.
Jace: But for real, you good?
Markus: Nose is broken. I popped it back but it’s swollen as fuck. I’ll be okay.
Markus: She didn’t leave.
Jace: I know. She told Avery she didn’t want to leave the cat with her mom.
Markus looked down at the cat. “So you’re Mekena’s?”
It ignored him as he looked back to his phone.
Markus: Why not?
Jace: I don’t know, but Skylar is at her mom’s, so she won’t go.
Markus: Wait, they aren’t talking?
Jace: lol, dude, you slept with her. Of course, they aren’t talking.
Markus: Oh. That’s surprising. They were close.
Jace: Eh, Skylar’s a whore.
Markus: Truth, but she’s her sister.
Jace: Yeah, but Mekena’s pissed.