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The whole time, I found myself watching them in a new way. They didn’t shoot small smiles at each other the way Declan and Sebastian did. They didn’t touch the way Parker and Elliott did. It wasn’t because they were older and had spent their whole lives together—I couldn’t ever remember them doing that. They weren’t affectionate with each other. When you looked at them, they were business partners who lived together.
They both had their cells close, checking messages often. When Dad’s rang, he said, “I need to take this,” and disappeared inside. Mom watched him go, and I knew it was because she itched to get back to work. They both always did, and while I respected the hell out of them for it, sometimes it felt pretty fucking empty.
“I hope nothing is wrong,” she said.
“If it is, you guys will figure it out.”
“I still wish you worked with us. I understand wanting to make your own way, but Alston Architecture is our legacy, Marcus, and it’ll be yours one day.”
“I know. I won’t let you down.” And I wouldn’t, but I also didn’t want to talk about it. “Are you in love with Dad?” fell out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
“What on earth? Why would you ask that?”
It wasn’t a yes. It wasn’t a no either, but if I were to ask Parker the same about Elliott, his first response would be yes, and then he would ask why. “Who knows? Ignore me.”
Mom sighed. “Your father and I fit well together, Marcus. We always have. Maybe we don’t show it the way others do, but we don’t need to.”
But what if I’d needed it as a kid? To have them cuddle on the couch and for me to go and sit with them while we watched movies and talked about our day. Not that they could change who they were for me, but that was all I knew now, and for most people, it wasn’t enough.
Corbin, Declan, and Parker accepted me the way I was, and I trusted them enough to let them pull me into their ridiculous hugs. I could hold Corbin when he needed it because they had shown me what love looked like in physical form, not just the words. And I’d only ever had that with them.
“Where is this coming from? Is this about Kai?”
I shook my head. Maybe it was about him to some degree, but it was also about me. “Nah, I’m good. I don’t know why I asked that.”
Her brows drew together, and there was real concern there. “You know we love you, right, Marcus?”
I nodded because I did, but knowing and feeling or seeing weren’t the same thing.
Chapter Twenty
Kai
I had a feeling Marcus was going to be down when he got home this evening, so I wanted to treat him to something special. I’d been racking my brain, trying to think of something Marcus would like, when I remembered a random conversation between him and Corbin. They were talking about astronomy and how Marcus was really interested in galaxies and planets and stargazing, which had surprised me. Maybe because Marcus was so grounded in day-to-day facts, I supposed, and at first glance, astronomy didn’t seem like something he’d enjoy. But then, it was science. If I thought about it, it made sense he’d find it appealing.
So I’d made a trip to the store earlier, spending money I didn’t really have, and then got everything prepared. He’d messaged to say he would be working after he was done with his folks and would be home around six like always. As hard as it was, I didn’t mention that it was cute as hell when he did things like that. How did he not realize how he was always thinking about others? That he was always so considerate? He had more heart than he would ever be willing to acknowledge.
As I waited for Marcus to get home, my stomach flopped around in a stupid, annoying way, though I had absolutely no reason to be nervous. Also, I didn’t do nervous when it came to men. I had fun with them, just the way Marcus and I were doing.
Still, when I heard the door open, I felt like I was going to throw up. But then Marcus walked into the room, and my knees went a little weak. All I could do was remember him shooting his load all over me the other day and rubbing it in so I smelled like him. Talk about hot as fuck.
“You don’t have to keep cooking for me,” he said.
“I didn’t cook for you. Just me. I already ate.”
“Oh shit. I didn’t—you’re lying.”
I smiled. “Yeah, I am. But you’re not allowed to complain because I did this really super sweet thing for you, and if you do complain, it’ll hurt my feelings.” I walked over to him, put a hand on his chest, and smelled fresh soap on his skin. “You don’t want to hurt my feelings, do you, baby?”
