Elizabeth throws her arms around my neck. “Thank you. You have to be the only person who isn’t bothered by it.”
That makes me frown. Is she hearing shit from Sylvia and Scott? Everyone handles things like this in their own way and as long as Elizabeth isn’t causing harm to herself or anyone else, what’s the fucking problem? My own arms finally snake around her waist.
“Trust me, I’m the last person that will be bothered by something, and I won’t be judging you for anything either.”
“Thank you, Marc.”
She lets me go, so I do the same, and we start getting ready for bed. It’ll be interesting to see how this week apart goes and how things will be once I return.
HOW CAN A person’s house, which seems so underwhelming, smell so damn good? I was hit with that heady scent when we walked in and now, it’s a cocoon wrapped around me while lying in Marc’s bed. It smells so good. I have no idea how to describe it other than manly, yet relaxing. And it smells like Marc. Speaking of...
His bare chest is pressed against my back. He’s only wearing boxer-briefs, so his naked thighs and legs are nestled against mine as well. His arm is locked over my waist. Lastly, his nose is buried in my now-down hair and I can feel his every breath. His ceiling fan is circling on high, but I’m about to burn up.
I can’t sleep like this. I almost wished we’d had sex and then maybe I’d be more tired and worn out, but nope. We’re seriously just sleeping like he said, which is fine. I’m relieved. Jumping in so quickly after so long without has bugged me.
“Elizabeth,” Marc mumbles.
“What?”
“Are you uncomfortable?” There’s a bit more alertness to his tone.
Despite being a little too warm, enjoying the closeness a little too much, and easily overthinking it, I’ve never been more comfortable. Swallowing hard, I reply, “No. Why?”
“You’re fidgeting.”
“Maybe it’s because you’re so still.”
He laughs. “I’m trying to sleep.” My heart stills when I feel the tip of his nose glide along my shoulder. I’m wearing a tank top, so there’s some skin there. Marc presses a tender kiss to the crook of my neck once he’s made his way back. “Would you feel better if I slept on the couch?” He rests his mouth on my shoulder.
I relax into him at his offer. It’s sweet for him to offer to sleep on the couch in his own home, but I won’t make him do that. Me being uncomfortable because I’m so utterly content nestled in his arms is not his fault. “I don’t want you to leave,” I reply honestly.
His lips lift into a smile against my skin. “You know I’m going to remind you of that for a long time, right?”
A groan drags out of me before I can stop it. “Marco—”
“Polo,” he interrupts.
My laughter returns, but I bite my lip in an attempt to stop.
Marc hums as he drags his hand
across my stomach and down my leg. Damn, I love his hands. “I haven’t cared for that nickname since some jackass in Juniors gave it to me, but every time it makes you laugh, I want to change my name to Marco Polo.”
I’m glad he can’t see the ridiculous grin on my face. “Don’t do that.” I take a deep breath as his hand now glides over my forearm and locks fingers with mine. “I like your actual name better.” As an afterthought, I add, “What’s your middle name?”
“Francis.”
I frown, first because it doesn’t seem to fit, and then because of the disdain and hatred in his voice when he says it. Before I can question him, he squeezes my hand.
“I’d love to talk to you, but we should sleep.”
“Okay.”
“But if you start dreaming of me and it’s really good, feel free to wake me up and make it a reality.”
Somehow, I manage not to laugh at that, but I do squeeze his hand in a promise. Or maybe it’s just a bluff. I kind of hope it’s a promise.
Marc has me pressed against my car. How did I not realize how freaking tall he is? I need a step ladder just to kiss him without wearing my calves out. I’m only five-five. But when Marc has those hands of his gripping my waist, my arms are starting to tingle from how long I’ve had them lifted around his neck, and I think I’m about to get a cramp in my foot from standing on my tiptoes for so long. None of that matters.