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Disastrous (Disastrous #1) Page 33
Author: E.L. Montes

The entire exchange happened so quickly I couldn’t help but giggle. It was funny. He laughed at my gasping reaction. I love his laugh; it sounded so carefree and young. He was so adorable like this, so I hugged him. Smiling at me, he ran his fingers through my hair. He looked so happy. I had a feeling it had something to do with me.

A few moments ago, he sounded annoyed and dismissive with Lou, but here he was smiling, and his eyes seemed to fill with peace and contentment. Searching his face, I tried to find a flaw, and I couldn’t find a single one. His olive skin, straight white teeth, perfect long nose, and his beautiful eyes, oh those eyes. They were dark brown, no special color of blue, green or hazel: large dark brown eyes filled with so many secrets, pain, and suffering. Though at that moment all of that seemed to be hidden behind his pupils, and only happiness was gleaming through.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, rubbing his hand along my arm.

“I’m thinking that if we keep this up, we’ll never get any work done in here.”

He laughed once. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s get to work.”

“Marcus?” I asked before stepping off his lap. He froze and looked up at me. “Will you sleep over again tonight?” I almost regretted asking when he hesitated.

“I have something to do after work. I don’t know how late I’ll be. You’ll probably be asleep already.”

I nodded. “Okay, no problem.”

“Hey.” He lifted my chin to meet my gaze. “How about next Friday I sleep over, and then you spend the rest of the weekend at my place before the family dinner? How does that sound?”

I held back my smile, so he couldn’t see how excited I was. “Okay, that sounds nice.” I really wanted to jump up and down with joy but managed to hold on to my composure.

The rest of the afternoon we actually managed to get work done. We sneaked in a few kisses, touches, and flirting, but that was bound to happen. The more time I spent with Marcus the more I liked him—really liked him.

A week ago when we met at the nightclub, I thought he was an arrogant asshole. Now that I was actually getting to know him, he was the total opposite. He was sweet, funny, and caring. He talked a lot about his family. You could tell he cared for them deeply. At first I felt a pinch of envy: he has this huge family that looks out for him and would do anything for him. I have no one. Then I felt stupid for feeling that way; I was happy for him—happy that he had a family to love and care for.

Chapter Twelve

“I can’t believe Stacy and I have so much in common. Can you believe that?” Jeremy couldn’t shut up about Stacy the whole ride home. We were in my car, so I was driving. He went on and on about how funny she is, her taste in music, hobbies, video games, the whole nine yards. He seemed excited about her; it’d been awhile since he was overly excited about a girl, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“So someone is falling hard, huh?” I teased.

“Uh, falling hard? No, I don’t fall hard. She’s pretty cool. I never met a hot chick that actually likes to play video games and loves sports! Do you know one?”

“I don’t know any girls, Jeremy.”

“Right, anyway, well she does. I just think it’s cool that’s all.” He shrugged. Rolling my eyes at him, I fixed my gaze back onto the road.

“Anyway, well she invited me to her parents’ vacation home down the shore next weekend. I told her I was in.”

“You’re going to meet her parents?” This was a major shock to me.

“Hell no! Her parents are away for an anniversary trip to London or France, whatever. She has the place to herself. So you know what that means!” He clapped his hands together and began rubbing his palms. I knew exactly what he meant. He was going to get laid.

“You’re a pig!”

“Hey, you love this pig.” I saw his huge smile in my peripheral vision.

“Yeah, yeah, you know I do.” I still think he’s a dirtbag regardless.

Seeing a spot on the corner, I perfectly parallel parked my car. We exited the vehicle and made our way to the apartment. Jeremy, of course, was still talking about his weekend plans. I was sidetracked when I noticed a black SUV parked directly across from the apartment building. It sat underneath a tree. The shadow from the leaves did not allow me to pinpoint who was sitting in the driver’s seat, but there was definitely someone in there.

An unmarked vehicle was not unusual in our neighborhood because we live near a park, but I remembered a similar SUV the night Marcus dropped me off after our trip. All the windows were tinted except for the windshield. Whoever was sitting up front was wearing a black shirt and sunglasses. The arms were muscular, so I knew it was a man, but I couldn’t make out the face.

Getting a better look without allowing the driver to know I spotted them was going to be hard. It was probably nothing, but what if someone were spying on Marcus. Spying on Marcus? What the hell am I thinking? Who would spy on him? My imagination sometimes gets the best of me. Deciding to let it go, I entered the building with the mind-set that if I saw the vehicle again tomorrow, I would definitely keep a closer eye on it. It was Jeremy’s turn to cook, so I went into the shower to begin my nightly ritual.

Twenty minutes into my shower Jeremy yelled out. “Mia! Can you get that? I’m taking a shit!” Seriously? What the hell! Why are guys so blunt about crap like that? He could have just simply said he’s in the bathroom? The doorbell rang again, so I quickly wrapped the towel around my chest.

Running as quickly as possible without slipping on the hardwood surface, I lifted the heels of my feet to look through the peephole. It was Marcus. Excited, I rushed to unlock the door and swung it open.

“You came!” I threw my arms around his neck. His fast reflexes grabbed the towel that was beginning to slip off.

“Do you usually walk around the entire place in a tiny towel?” He seemed annoyed. I pulled my head back to look at him.

“No, I was in the shower. Jeremy was using the bathroom, and he asked me to see who it was.”

He cocked his head to the side. “He was using the bathroom while you were taking a shower?” The question was low but stern.

“Marcus, we have two bathrooms. What’s your problem? I’m excited to see you, but you don’t seem so thrilled to see me.” The implication behind his questioning began to steam my blood vessels.

His face relaxed. “I’m happy to see you, baby. Can I come in?” When I moved aside, he entered, and I locked the door behind him. Not saying a word, I lightly jogged on my tiptoes back into my bedroom. He followed me, and I could hear my bedroom door closing.

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