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His hand comes up to my cheek, cupping it softly. Adoringly.
“If only you knew the carnage I left behind in that ballroom.” His humorless laugh is met with something close to a choking sound. “You wouldn’t want me in this room.”
“You’re wrong. I’ve wanted you here every day, Marc. Every. Day.”
His hand drops away from my face and he makes to stand from the bed, but my arm darts out, grabbing his elbow to stop his retreat.
“Please, Marcellus. Don’t.”
“Don’t what, Maggie?” he says, falling back to the bed.
“Don’t run away from me. Don’t leave me here again.”
“Maggie,” he warns, cutting me off, but I don’t stop.
Coming up onto my knees, I scoot closer to him. Close enough that our legs touch.
“Don’t shut me out. Don’t treat me like you do your brothers. I-I can’t take it.”
My hands land on his shoulders to steady me.
“What do you want from me, Maggie?”
What do I want?
I’m not even sure, beyond knowing without a doubt I can’t be kept in this room, locked away without any interaction anymore. It’s eating away at me, day by day.
“You—”
I don’t get a chance to finish that sentence, because I’m crushed into Marcellus’s chest and his full lips are against mine. Without thought, my mouth opens willingly, allowing his tongue access.
This is what I need. What I crave.
Attention. Touch. Life.
Just not from him.
I’ve been sheltered away for a year, dreaming of this connection with his brother.
My mind drifts to the conversation and the words that went unspoken.Your friendship. That’s what I was about to say, because that’s what I want from him.
Not this.
Heisn’t the right guy.
I pull away, breathing erratically and wishing the floor would open and swallow me up.
“Maggie?” Marcellus says, sounding confused.
“I-I’m sorry. I... That shouldn’t have happened. You... You didn’t let me finish.”
Marcellus and I have never really had the conversation about my feelings for Law, because they’re irrelevant. One-sided affection does not make for news worth sharing. Marcellus knows we were friends and that Law tried to help me, but I’ve never spoken a word about wanting more.
“I want your friendship, Marc. That’s all I have to offer.”
He stands quickly, pacing around the room like a caged tiger. I’m not sure what to say, so I remain quiet.
“I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.”
