Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Marcus didn’t respond for what felt like a hundred years. When I turned to look at him, he was watching me, questions in his eyes I couldn’t read but still had no doubt were there.
“Get some sleep, Kai. I’ll stay up and watch them. When the stores open, I’ll go get a tank or whatever you need. We’ll make sure Blue’s okay. You’re doing good by them.”
I had to admit, it was adorable that Marcus used they now too for my fish.
And it meant a lot to me that he took this seriously. That he didn’t roll his eyes or think I was being extra over a damn fish.
“You have to be up early for work, Marcus. You should try and go to bed. I can stay up and go to the store in the morning. They’re my responsibility, not yours.”
“Stubborn little thing, aren’t you?”
“Stubborn big thing, aren’t you?” I countered.
Marcus sighed, closed his eyes, and shook his head. It wasn’t in the same way that some people did when they were exhausted with me. Without a word, he walked over to the small love seat and stood at one end. “You gonna help me with this or what?”
Inexplicably, my heart sped. “What are we doing?” I walked over to him.
“Moving this.”
Oh. I took the other end, Marcus and I pulling the couch over so it was in front of the tank. He was only wearing a pair of basketball shorts, low on his hips, and from the lack of a band and the way his cock swung, totally free-balling it.
“Go get changed, Kai.”
I nodded, a little dumbfounded.
I hurried upstairs, cleaned up a bit, and changed into a pair of shorts. When I got back downstairs, Marcus was sitting on the couch with a bottle of wine and slider sandwiches.
When he looked at me, I couldn’t help smiling. Who knew The Vers’s realist was secretly the sweetest man in the world.
Chapter Thirteen
Marcus
“Sit. Eat,” I said as Kai stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching me. His lips stretched into a mischievous grin. “You’re so damn ornery.”
“I didn’t even do anything,” he replied before adding, “Yes, sir,” and walking over.
I cocked a brow. He’d just proven my point. “I’m waiting for the punchline. Nothing is ever this simple with you.”
Kai crossed his arms. “I’m easy.”
“Yeah, okay. And I’m sweet and fluffy.”
“You are sweet and fluffy, Marcus. You just refuse to see it. Now, I’m gonna go get some water because I’m not bougie enough for wine. Then I’ll do exactly as Daddy says.”
I rolled my eyes, but it wasn’t until he was in the kitchen behind me that I realized I was smiling. I bit down on my cheek and forced myself to school my features. Considering it was the middle of the night and we were staying up to watch a damn fish as if there was anything we could do, there was no reason for me to be grinning.
Kai got his drink and set it on the coffee table, which I’d also moved over while he was upstairs. When he sat, he did so right next to me, our legs touching. “Wine is bougie?” I asked.
“Either that, or it’s for old people.” He winked, plucked one of the sliders from the plate, and took a bite.
“You better be playin’,” I told him, but Kai just shrugged. “You’re twenty-six. Nine years doesn’t make me old.”
He gave a ridiculous snort-laugh that shouldn’t be cute, but it was. “Funny that you say those words because I guarantee if I was like, Hey, date me, Marcus—I’m not saying that, by the way—but if I were, and even if you wanted the same thing, you’d be like, I’m too old for you.”
“No I wouldn’t,” I lied. Hell, I’d probably already mentioned his age in one way or another, and if I hadn’t, I’d thought about it.
“Oh my God. Shut the fuck up. You’re so full of shit.”
“Eat your food,” I said again.
“Does that always work for you? Changing the subject by being bossy? Or just being bossy twenty-four seven?”
“Have you met Corbin, Parker, and Declan? It never works.”
Kai chuckled. “Good point.” He picked up a slider. “If I have to eat, you do too.” He handed it over, and I didn’t argue. “So what are you doing up anyway?”
“Couldn’t sleep. Happens sometimes.”
“That sucks. I can always sleep—anytime, anywhere. What did you do today?”
“Worked, then had dinner at a Mediterranean restaurant with Corbin. Went for a jog when I got home, then did some admin work.”
It was strange talking like this about my day. Even when I was growing up, my folks didn’t really do this. Since they worked together, they knew what the other had been up to. And if not, it was more professional than conversational. Kai was asking because he wanted to check on me, not on work things. Because that’s what most people did.