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Knowing that I am playing with fire (or Kitty’s selfish need to see the rainbow and get her happily ever after), I grab onto his forearm to move him out of the way. Ignore that it’s hard . . . his muscles . . . his muscles are hard! Jesus Presley, jump ship now. You’ve got two young guys in front of you and Kitty is having a nervous breakdown. Luckily, I am carrying my spare big-girl panties and just like Superman, I magically whisk them on and give it back to the Jerk.

“I believe Dee requires your attention.” Leaning in further, I whisper in his ear, “Not sure why you’re holding back from her since you had no problem unleashing on me.”

Pulling myself back, I hear his jaw literally drop to the ground. My work here is officially done. The look on his face is priceless and I have never felt so empowered.

Marcus grabs my hand and I allow him to do so, watching Haden divert his eyes from this intimate gesture. Against the partition, Haden’s knuckles are stark white as he restrains himself. I have no idea what his problem is, apart from the obvious male ego and pride bullshit.

I’m not a prize; this isn’t a competition.

We aren’t even dating, and we both agreed it was a ‘sweep it under the rug’ type of fuck.

Raising my head to meet his eyes, I give him my most evil grin. “See ya later. Jerk.”

***

Marcus and I sit in the booth near the entrance, lucky to get a seat at a popular diner. The burgers here are delish, and so is Marcus. I have no idea how old he is, and given that it’s rude to ask, I settle for assuming he’s in his twenties. God, when did I become such a cougar?! Guys in their twenties have this wicked aura around them. At least that’s what Vicky tells me. I can see it though. They seem to care a hell of a lot more about their appearance, obsessed with working on their physique. They tend to dress in all designer labels, and even when they are dressed down, they rock a pair of jeans and a tee like a model on a runway.

Then there’s the hair.

Marcus has beautiful jet-black hair.

Although it’s short, you can tell it’s silky smooth. If he grew it out, he would look like Cleopatra and I would happily feed him grapes from a golden plate.

While the waiter serves us our meals, my cell vibrates. Expecting a much-needed text from Vicky, I’m surprised to see it’s from the Jerk instead, and immediately roll my eyes before even opening the message.

#Jerk: What do you mean unleash on you? Are we talking about this now?

I should have responded with something witty, but Marcus seemed to have focused his attention on me. I throw my cell into my purse and dive into my meal. He has quite an appetite on him, almost polishing off the burger in a second.

“I could do another,” he says with a satisfied smile.

“Why not? You only live once. There’s always the gym . . .” I trail off.

“So tell me, why are you a gym virgin and why the sudden urge to work out? You look amazing, hot, sexy, just in case no one has ever told you that.” He smirks.

“Nice flirting.” I laugh in return, relaxing us both. “Long, long story. Maybe another time.”

“I’ve got time.”

“Super long.”

“Hmm, okay sixty seconds. Ten questions, I get to ask you anything and that’ll satisfy my curiosity.”

“Huh?”

He looks at his watch. “Time starts now. Who did you last date?”

What was the rule of the game? He taps on his watch, so I answer quickly.

“Date? I was engaged to a guy named Jason.”

“Why did you guys break it off?”

“It wasn’t right,” I stutter nervously.

He raises his eyebrows, but does not pry any further.

“Where did you grow up?”

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