Starting with the Unexpected (7 page)

“Will you go on a date with me?” Marcus repeated, slower this time, as a flush crawled onto his cheeks.

He was adorable like that, all nervous and shy and brave at the same time. This time, I gave in to the urges I’d been fighting since the day I met him instead of letting my inner voice groan about how he was going to kill me. I leaned in and kissed him, and I swear to God, his shocked intake of breath sounded more like an angel singing than I thought possible.

I could tell when his brain caught up with what was going on, because he wrapped an arm around me and his lips slid along mine in a dance that was all about feeling as fantastic as possible. We were both moaning, and I tried to roll onto my back and pull him on top of me at the same time, but instead, I managed to press the lump on the back of my head against the pillow just wrong, and I let out a pained hiss.

“Are you okay?” Marcus asked, immediately backing off to run his hands over my head. “What hurts?”

“Forgot about the lump on the back of my head,” I admitted with a grunt. “I’m fine, really.”

Marcus dropped his hands and nodded, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes. “So was that a yes?”

I chuckled and grabbed his hands, appreciating how warm they were and how good it felt to have him squeeze mine in return. “Yeah,” I told him. “Yeah, I want to go on a date with you. We might want to wait until after I look less like I’ve been in a brawl, though. Does it look as bad as it feels? I didn’t bother stopping in front of the mirror earlier.”

“Let’s just say it’s a good thing you work in radio and not television,” Marcus said, and winced a little. “It’s pretty bad. On the plus side, the lovely eggplant color brings out the blue of your hair.”

I snickered and let go of one hand to give his shoulder a gentle shove. “You’re a nut.”

“Takes one to know one,” he answered immediately and sighed happily when I snuggled close to him again.

We stayed like that for several minutes, just enjoying each other’s quiet company, until Marcus’s stomach growled loudly.

“Good lord,” I exclaimed. “Your stomach sounds like it’s about to eat its way through.”

“Jordan offered to make me something for breakfast,” Marcus said, sounding more than slightly embarrassed. “But I wanted to be here, in case you needed me.”

“Let’s get us fed, then,” I said, and sat up slowly. Now that the worst of the pain was past, my stomach wouldn’t be far behind his in bitching about how empty it was. “Then we can figure out when and where our first date is happening. I should warn you that Jordan thinks we’ve been in a relationship for weeks, though.”

“Friendships are relationships,” Marcus pointed out, his grin showing off his dimples. “But somehow I don’t think that’s what you meant.”

I snorted and tried to stand up, but immediately landed back on the edge of the bed. Wow, dizzy.

Marcus was around the bed and at my side almost instantly, offering me his hands. “Let me help you up,” he said. “You can lean on me as much as you need to.”

Somehow I got the feeling he wasn’t just referring to getting me to the kitchen, and my hands shook a little when I took his and let him help me to stand. When he was sure I’d stay on my feet, Marcus wrapped his arms around me in a hug, and I leaned into him as I returned the embrace. It felt warm and fantastic and
right
, and I never wanted to let go.

Of course, that’s when my stomach began to harmonize with his, and we both laughed.

“Come on,” Marcus said. He moved carefully to my side and kept an arm around me. “Let’s get you to the kitchen, so I can see about feeding us.”

Once he had me safely seated at the kitchen table and was examining the contents of the fridge, I broached our earlier topic again. “So what did you have in mind?” I asked him.

“Eggs, I think,” Marcus answered. “How do you feel about omelets?”

I chuckled. “That’s fine, but that’s not what I meant. Sorry. I meant what did you have in mind for our date? I can wake up early on one of our mutual days off, if you want to do dinner.”

Marcus pondered the question as he started to pull stuff out of the fridge. “Well, it might be easier if we went somewhere midday, instead.”

“It might,” I agreed. “Have you been to Jubilation?” The place was fairly new, but I knew from personal experience that the food was fantastic. I’d never actually eaten there, but the chef was Jordan’s and my college roommate.

“The new place on Main?” Marcus asked, looking at me as if I’d taken leave of my senses. “Isn’t it impossible to get a reservation there right now, even for lunch?”

“It would be if the chef hadn’t roomed with us for a while in college,” I admitted. “Christophe’s a really great guy, and he’s been trying to get me to visit the restaurant since it opened.”

“And here I thought
I
was supposed to be romancing
you
,” Marcus said, the grin on his face telling me that he was pretty pleased with my idea, despite his words. “If you can get us in there, I’m not about to say no.”

“You can still romance me,” I promised with a shrug. “To be honest, I’m not horribly good with that sort of thing. My idea of a romantic situation involves being with someone who’ll put up with my icy hands on their back when I’m cold.” Because, seriously, when the rest of me is cold, my hands are chillier than a penguin’s backside. They make Frosty the Snowman seem downright tropical.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that,” Marcus said and he started grating a block of cheddar. “If it were the right person, they’d be warming up your hands for you the entire time they were growling about getting revenge for having your frozen appendages on them. How is that not romantic?”

“Would you warm up my hands for me?” I asked, my tone overly flirtatious to hide my nerves.

Marcus stopped what he was doing to look at me. His face was the picture of seriousness. “It would be my pleasure,” he said firmly.

“Oh.” I was suddenly blushing so hard that I felt like I’d spontaneously sunburned, despite the fact that I was indoors in the middle of the night. It was amazing how easily he flustered me, and I stayed silent until he startled me out of my thoughts by setting a plate in front of me.

“Seriously, are you all right with this?” Marcus took a seat next to me with his own plate. “I don’t want to rush you into anything.”

“It’s not that,” I told him quickly, taking up the fork he’d brought me. “I’m just nervous.”

“You?” Marcus asked and raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You’re a public figure who routinely tells outrageous stories about your own life, and you’re nervous because of
me
?”

“That’s different,” I said. I methodically cut my breakfast into pieces, pleased to see that he’d used an obscene amount of cheese. “Making an idiot of myself on the air is nothing. I laugh at myself all the time because of the situations I get myself into. Making an idiot of myself to you, though? I don’t want to do that.”

“You won’t,” Marcus said and gave me an annoyed look. “I could do without you getting punched again, though.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” I protested. “I mean, I guess it was because I got in between him and your door, but I didn’t even make any smartass comments this time. Out loud, anyway. Calling him El Creepo to his face probably would have gotten me punched much sooner.”

Marcus nearly spit out the bite of food he’d just taken as he choked back a laugh. “‘El Creepo’?” he asked when he was able to talk again. “Oh my God, that’s hilarious. And perfect. I think we need to call him that from now on.”

“Well, unless we end up in court,” I allowed. “I don’t think it would go over well if we referred to him as El Creepo on the stand.”

Marcus set down his fork and looked so downcast that I mentally chastised myself for bringing it up. “Do you really think it’ll come to that?”

“Me? No,” I said. “I think he’ll get a slap on the wrist and be sent on his merry way. I also think that he’ll completely ignore the restraining order, which makes me want to tell you that you need to move so he can’t find you. I know better than to try to run your life for you, though.”

A grin played at the edges of Marcus’s lips. “Maybe I should just spend more time over here,” he suggested.

“Maybe you should,” I agreed cheerfully. I got a major case of the warm fuzzies. I could totally live with that.

I
WAS
less than thrilled to have my phone wake me up at five the next evening. I’d only been asleep for a few hours, and I was still hurting. Compound this with the fact that I woke up alone, and it all equaled a grumpy-as-hell Zach. I grabbed at my phone, not bothering to see who it was. When I managed to accept the call, I growled into the damn noisy bit of technology. “What?”

“I see you’re still alive, then.”

Oh hell. It was my mother. Don’t get me wrong. My mom was my best friend, next to Jordan, starting from day one, but I knew that tone. I’d hurt her feelings by not getting in touch with her and letting her worry over me. Wow. Talk about feeling like a bad son. “Mom, I’m sorry. I figured Brandon would have told you I was fine.”

“Zachary Oliver Blaise!”

Oh God, there it was. She’d used my full name, and I was in for a lecture of epic proportions unless I diffused the situation.

“Is it too much to ask to have my baby send me one little text message to let me know he’s still breathing? So I’d have heard it directly from him instead of worrying all night? Thank God you had Jordan there. At least I can trust him to keep an eye on you.”

“Yes Mom, your favorite son lives to babysit me,” I teased, trying to alleviate the tension a little. I heard her choke back a laugh, and I relaxed. Maybe she wouldn’t kill me. “He and Marcus both watched me like hawks.”

As if speaking his name had gotten his attention, Marcus peeked into the room. Much to my dismay, he was fully dressed, but it wasn’t the time to be ogling him. I waved him in and he entered the room cautiously and sat down next to me on the bed.

“Is he the new boyfriend Brandon was telling me about?” my mother asked, pouncing on the subject. I got the feeling she’d been waiting to broach the topic of what part Marcus played in my personal life, but I’d been half-expecting that. Mom’s an incurable romantic, and above all, she just wants her boys happy.

“We haven’t even had our first date yet,” I informed her. “We’re….” All of a sudden, I realized that I had no idea what we actually were at that point, and I raised an eyebrow at Marcus. “What are we?” I asked him.

“Dating?” he suggested with a shrug.

“That works,” I said, and returned my attention to my mother. “We’re dating, as of last night.”

“Fine,” she said, and I swear to God I could hear the sly smile creep onto her face. I knew that tone of voice. She was up to something. I was lucky she used her maternal powers of coercion for good, on most days. “Then the two of you won’t mind meeting me for lunch tomorrow.”

I could tell from the look on Marcus’s face that he’d heard her loud and clear. His eyes were wide, and that gorgeous golden skin of his had a bit of a green cast to it. “Hold on,” I told Mom and put my hand over the phone so she couldn’t hear me talking to Marcus. “I can tell her you’ll be working,” I said, watching his face. “You don’t have to go, if you’re not ready to meet her.”

“You can’t lie to your mother,” Marcus admonished. “That’s just not right, not when the two of you are so close.” He swallowed hard and gave me a weak smile. “You’ve said she’s accepting, so….”

“She’ll love you,” I promised. She would too. Hell, she’d probably drag him out shopping after lunch and make me go home by myself just so she could learn more about him. He’d be the new favorite son within a month.

“If you say so,” he sighed and waved a hand at my phone. “Tell her yes.”

“Thank you,” I said and put the phone to my ear again. “Yes, we’ll meet you for lunch. I’m assuming you mean your lunch and not my lunch.”

“If I wanted to eat with you during your lunch, I would have called it breakfast,” my mother teased. “But at least eat a snack when you take your lunch break. I don’t want you to starve.”

My mother, the eternal worrywart. As she often mentioned, though, worrying about her kids was her job. Something about it being in the Mom Contract. “I promise I won’t starve,” I said. “Usual place? Marcus can meet me at work and drive over with me.” I glanced at him to make sure he was good with that, and he nodded. In fact, he looked a little relieved not to have to go by himself.

“Of course,” she answered. After a moment’s pause, she added, “And invite Jordan too. That poor boy is almost as skinny as you. I’m beginning to think you two never eat.”

“We eat,” I protested. “You can ask Marcus. He’s seen us eat. I’ll let Jordan know he’s welcome to join us.”

“Good. I’ll let you get back to sleep, then, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure thing,” I said fondly. “Talk at you later, Mom.” With that, I hung up the phone and tossed it onto my nightstand with a groan.

“I’d better go back to the living room so you can sleep,” Marcus said, his voice gentle. “I have to go to work in a couple hours, and I didn’t want to wake you, once I was up.”

“Whatcha doing?” I asked, moving just enough to put my head on his lap. “Playing video games?”

He grinned and shook his head. “No,” he said, running his fingers through my hair. “Working on homework. I should have done it yesterday, but I was distracted.”

“Sorry.” I didn’t sound the least bit apologetic, really, but oh well. I had faith Marcus would forgive me for that. “You could do your homework in here, if you want.”

“Right. Because that wouldn’t distract me at all,” he said dryly. “I
will
sit here until you fall back to sleep, if you’d like, but you have to get your head off of my lap so you don’t wake up when I move.”

I tried to grumble as I placed my head back on my pillow—which wasn’t nearly as comfortable as Marcus’s thigh, I might add—but the noise was cut off with a yawn. It wouldn’t take much for me to start snoring again. “G’night,” I mumbled, enjoying the feeling of his fingers in my hair as my eyes drifted shut. “Have a good day at work, okay?”