Page 25 of The Status Situation

“So, talk, Darius,” I press, looking over at him through the frosted glass as he goes through some of my makeup. “What did you talk to Mark about? What did you tell him?”

“I didn’t really tell him anything,” he replies simply. “He came into The Brew today and asked if you were okay.”

Biting my lip, I pour a bit of shampoo onto my palm. “He did?”

“Yes. And before you ask, he looks just as miserable as you, which is why you are going over to his place when you are done. The two of you need to talk.”

“What?” I laugh. “I can’t just⁠—”

“You can, and you will, even if I have to take you there myself.”

I scoff and shake my head. “Well, I don’t know his address.”

Imagine my surprise when Darius tells me that he, in fact, has Mark’s address. He asked him for it when he visited the coffee shop. Once I learn that, I try to change his mind before I’ve finished my shower and the entire time I’m getting ready, to no avail. Darius seems to have it in his head that things between Mark and me are going to work out. He speaks so confidently about it that, for a moment, I allow myself to believe it too. Which is how I end up here, standing outside Mark’s apartment like a freaking idiot.

I didn’t even think to call and let Mark know that I was going to be showing up at his place to talk. I think I was still in denial about Darius making me follow through. Unfortunately, he also followed through on his threat to drive me here and then kicked me out of the car. He told me he wasn’t going to come back for me until Mark and I worked things out, until we discussed our fears and expectations, all of it.

The problem is, Mark isn’t home, and my dumb ass forgot my cell phone on my nightstand. Darius is long gone, and I’m pretty sure Mark said that he likes to go to the gym after work. So, I’m officially stuck here until he’s done for the night or Darius gets worried about not hearing from me.

Shit.

Eleven

Mark

I glance at my watch as I enter the stairwell and begin the six-story climb to my apartment. Sean called me fifteen minutes ago, while I was mid-workout, to tell me that the clients we have been trying to get to sign a policy with us wanted to meet to discuss a few of the finer points of the contract over a couple of drinks in just over an hour. That leaves me just enough time to shower and change into something a little more presentable than my gray sweats and black tank top.

I am not thrilled with having to cut my workout short, and the only reason I agreed to it was because it was for a client. For the last couple of days, I have been burying myself in work and the gym to stay busy and keep myself distracted. That also means I’ve been going harder than usual, because otherwise, I would have called or texted Maria by now to check on her. I told her to take all the time that she needed, and I don’t want her to feel like I’m pressuring her. Even if the wait is killing me, because I miss her so much.

I am ashamed to admit that I did go to The Brew today just to see if I could catch a glimpse of her, but she wasn’t there. She hadn’t been for the last three days. Darius was though, and I ended up asking him if she was okay. To his credit, he told me he wasn’t going to tell me how she’s doing, won’t give her a message for me, and won’t try to get her to contact me. He said that she will reach out if and when she’s ready, and that he will let her know that I asked about her.

Honestly, that was more than I could have asked for, so I was grateful. Though I will admit, I was a bit surprised and curious as to why he asked me for my address. However, when I step out of the stairwell and onto my floor, his reason becomes clear.

The figure sitting on the ground by my door is a welcome sight, even with her knees pulled to her chest and her forehead resting on her arms. Her hair is draped around her shoulders, currently hiding her face, and her light purple dress sits high on her thighs. I suddenly feel the urge to sink my teeth into the creamy flesh of her inner thigh.

It takes a lot of willpower not to race down the hall, to keep my steps steady and even. I have no idea how long she’s been sitting here, and I can’t help but wonder why she didn’t call me when she learned I wasn’t home yet.

She doesn’t stir, even when I reach her, and I realize then that her breathing is deep and even. Shit. She’s been here long enough to doze off.

Crouching down, I gently brush a bit of her hair back over her shoulder, being extra careful not to startle her. “Maria.”

“Hmm?” she mutters sleepily, lifting her head. She blinks a few times before she fully notices me, and the sleepy smile I get in return breaks my heart. “You’re home.”

“I am,” I say softly, returning her smile.

She takes me by surprise when she reaches up and cups my cheek in her hand. “Hi.”

“Hey, beautiful,” I murmur. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

When I hold out my hand, she takes it and allows me to pull her to her feet. Somehow, I manage to get the door unlocked and then motion for her to head inside.

“Sorry to just show up like this,” she says as she begins looking around my place.

It’s not much because I don’t need much. I don’t usually spend a lot of time here, between work and the gym.

Currently, we are standing in an open hallway between the kitchen and the living room. Directly to the right is the laundry closet with a stackable washer and dryer, and next to that is the bathroom, which I, thankfully, keep clean. To the left is my coat closet, where I keep all my shoes and jackets, and the entry table. I drop my keys, wallet, and phone into the little glass bowl I have sitting on top. Next to that are the stairs that go up to the loft bedroom.

There is not much to the bedroom. A king-sized bed sits in the middle of the wall with gray sheets and a black comforter. It has a black headboard to match the nightstands and dresser, and there’s a decent-sized walk-in closet. It’s half empty, though, because I don’t really have many clothes.