See you then.
When Marcus opens his door to me, I’m on him immediately, my relief that we’re still doing this translating into nipping teeth and fingers digging into flesh.
Marcus matches my intensity, and we don’t even make it to his bedroom. Instead, we end up having incredibly hot sex over the back of his couch. The relief I feel as Marcus sinks into me is impossible to describe. His fingers leave bruises on my hips that I’ll press tomorrow to remind myself this was real. When we finally collapse together, sweaty and satisfied, I feel like I can finally breathe properly.
The next weekpasses in a blur of study sessions and stolen moments together.
Marcus has his last exam. I have my last exam and then start immediately on preparation for my internship.
And we continue to hook up without discussing his impending departure on his trip with my sister.
But then it becomes Tuesday night, and I know from Saskia that she and Marcus are flying out late tomorrow.
Am I imagining something slightly desperate in the way Marcus kisses me and touches me and fucks me tonight? Or am I just seeing what I want to see?
Afterward, Marcus lounges back on his pillows, looking like a debauched god. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the fact that someone like Marcus exists in real life. You’d think he’d have a flaw somewhere, but having thoroughly examined every inch of this man, I can confirm there isn’t a scrap of his skin that isn’t perfect.
But I can’t ignore the elephant in the room anymore. It’s now more the size of a blue whale.
“Are you excited about your trip?” I ask.
He stretches lazily, and the sheet slips down his chest, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his V-line. “Yeah. I mean, I guess. It’ll be cool to travel, see a different country, meet some new people.”
My brain gets stuck on the meet new people part. I’ve heard Saskia joke about how she and Marcus are going to take the guys of America by storm.
I blow out a breath.
Until now, I haven’t wanted to ask if he’s been hooking up with other people besides me. I haven’t wanted to know.
But the question swirls around in my mind constantly.
I remember what Saskia said in Queenstown about Marcus not doing repeats, but I’ve now got strong evidence Marcus doesn’t share every detail about his sex life with his best friend. So, who knows whether Marcus has a whole lot of other guys he regularly messes around with on the down-low.
My mouth opens, and before I can stop myself, the words pour out of me. “I went to the sexual health clinic the other day to get tested, and um…one of the things the nurse said to meis how the sexual history of my partners also impacts me, like I’m sleeping with any guys my sexual partner is sleeping with too. I mean, not that I’m actually sleeping with the guys you’re sleeping with, I mean, not literally…”
Oh god, I’m butchering this epically. Heat spreads through my cheeks, but I blunder on. “So, I was just wondering, like, if there are lots of other guys? I mean, not that I care or anything, I know you’ll have been careful, but…you know…I was just wondering.”
Marcus is suddenly more alert, sitting up straighter, pulling the sheet around himself. His gaze flicks to the door, and I wonder if he’s going to bolt. But we’re at his place, so his options to leave are limited.
He fidgets with the edge of the sheet, studying it for a while before he answers. “I haven’t been with any other guys since we first hooked up, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“What?” In my surprise, the word flies out of me. It’s as if someone just told me gravity isn’t real.
Marcus’s usual easy smile is nowhere to be seen. Instead, his brow furrows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, before he speaks again. “I’ve been busy with exams, and this…this has been good, right?”
I’m lightheaded, my mind racing faster than a particle in a supercollider.
“Yes. This has been good,” I manage.
The smile spreading across Marcus’s face is not his usual cocky grin or practiced smirk, but something softer. It lights up his eyes, crinkling the corners in a way that makes my heart stutter.
I lean forward to kiss him, and we forget about talking for a while.
When I wakeup the next morning, Marcus’s arm is draped over my waist, his breath tickling the back of my neck. I allow myself to bask in his warmth for a moment before the weight of reality drops onto me. In sixteen hours, Marcus will be on a plane to the States, and this—whatever this is between us—will be put on pause.
I’ve worked so hard to keep my expectations low, to remind myself that to Marcus, I’m just his best friend’s nerdy little brother, a convenient casual hookup arrangement.
But he told me last night I’m the only one he’s been hooking up with?