Page 56 of Rules to Love By

As he walked Marcus to the bathroom, he began to notice the little things, like the bags under his eyes, the droop to his broad shoulders, and the broken blisters on the backs of his heels and the palms of his hands. Small things that Marcus had managed to hide behind his glamour before, but that said he wasn’t as carefree as he wanted people to think he was.

Well, those were things Eli might be able to do something about, at least. If Marcus let him.

CHAPTERTWELVE

Marcus had managed to lie in the soft, perfect B-and-B bed, listening to water run, and blank out every thought as it came. Some people called that meditating. He called it self-preservation. That Eli not only knew he’d ralphed right after they’d had sex but had witnessed it and knew it wasbecauseof the sex went beyond humiliation.

And yet he hadn’t run screaming for the hills.

Marcus didn’t know if he was grateful or terrified. If Eli thought he somehow was responsible for Marcus’s reaction, that would be awful. If Eli thought he had to fix Marcus, well… That would be far worse.

Now, resting his head back on the hard edge of the tub, he wondered how long he would have to stay there for Eli to give up and leave. And even as he had that thought, there was a knock on the door.

“Marcus?”

“Yeah?” He kept the sigh quiet. No need to make the guy feel any worse.

“I’m going to order something from the kitchen. Some snacks for watching a movie or something. You want anything? Maybe soup? Or toast?”

“You don’t have to look after me, Eli.”

“Yeah, I do.” He said it so matter-of-factly, so calmly, it would be bitchy to argue with him. “What do you usually eat after?”

“Seriously?”

“I assume it’s happened often enough you already know what settles your stomach. I’ll see if they have it.”

God. What he wouldn’t give for a bowl of steaming oatmeal with a ton of cream and some brown sugar. It would be embarrassing that Eli made that assumption, but then, hadn’t Marcus all but told him this was his pattern?

“Marcus?”

“You going to make me eat something?”

“I can’t make you do anything. But if you don’t give me any hints, we are going to have a lot of extra food up here.”

Marcus huffed, but a smile snuck onto his face while he tried to be annoyed. “Fine. Oatmeal.”

“Just plain?

“With cream.”

“Oatmeal with cream. Got it.”

“And brown sugar?”

“Of course. Anything else?”

“Just that.”

“I’m going down to the kitchen.”

Marcus waited.

“I hope you’re still here when I get back.”

Marcus snorted. “Should be me hoping you even come back.”

“I will.”

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