Page 35 of Our Broken Pieces
“Same.” He turns toward me. “Thank you again for this, Gigi. I don’t deserve this sort of help.”
“Yes you do, prince.”
“If, at any point, this all gets too much, you’re free to back out. I care more about your happiness than that company.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t back out. Mission Ball and Chain will be completed.” I salute him and smile.
“When should we tell the group? I don’t want to lie to them, and I trust them to keep things quiet.”
“Audrey wanted everyone to come over for the game this weekend. We can do it then.”
“Sounds good.” He rises from the couch, grabbing his glass from the end table. I hop up and walk toward the hall.
“Good night, husband.”
He shakes his head. “Good night, princess.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Gigi
The rest of my week includes three closing shifts in a row at the spa. It’s Friday and I haven’t spoken to Marcus since Tuesday evening, simply because of our schedules. As the saying goes, we’ve been like two ships passing in the night. He’s up early and I sleep late. He’s in bed by the time I get home. It’s made me feel a little uneasy, hoping that he isn’t avoiding me because he’s rethinking our new arrangement.
This morning, I’m finishing my last load of laundry, and after the washer chimes, signaling it is done, I open the dryer. I look inside and see Marcus left his clothes behind. It’s just a few things, mainly gym clothes. I gather up the articles and begin walking up the stairs. I slow my steps as I realize I’ve never been in his room before. I wonder if he’ll think I’m intruding in hispersonal space. I don’t want to make him mad, but I want to be helpful and leave his clothes folded for him.
I shove everything under one arm and reach for the doorknob. Right before it’s in my grasp, I pause, giving myself a moment to consider turning around. My hand moves again, grabbing the cool metal. I turn the knob and step into the room.
I walk in, and it is nothing like I would have imagined. A dark wood bed sits along one wall, covered in navy blue sheets. The thread count must be insane because they shine like satin. The bed is perfectly made, pillows propped against the headboard and even a couple of cream-colored decorative ones dropped in front. On the walls are black and white abstract art prints. There’s two armchairs situated in a corner, facing a fireplace, with a table in between that has a stack of books and his iPad. Across the room, there’s a space turned into an office, with a dark wood bookcase against the wall and his desk in front of it. The room is masculine, neat, and it smells like him.
I drop his clothes on the bed, and my eye catches a set of frames on the dresser. I walk over and see there’s one of him, Jax, and Linc, standing by a field, all of them wearing Boston College sweatshirts, arms around each other’s shoulders, toothy smiles on their young faces. Then there’s one of all of us at Jax and Audrey’s wedding; we’re all laughing and Audrey is staring up at Jax with heart eyes.
Then I lift the last one. It was taken at Linc and Melonie’s apartment. Marcus is holding a tiny Millie, so I’m pretty sure it was taken the day that she came home from the hospital. She was born almost a month premature, so we had a welcome home party after her stay in the NICU was over. Marcus is holding her and I’m standing by his side as Millie holds my finger. Sure, Millie is probably meant to be the focal point in the picture, but she’s not what I notice.
In the picture, I’m smiling and Marcus is looking at me. Looking at me like I’m the only person in the room, when I know for sure, there were ten people there with us that day. My eyes drop from his eyes to his mouth in the image, where I see a slight upturn of the corner of his lips.
He’s looking at me differently than I’ve ever seen him look at someone. I like that look.
I pull my phone from my back pocket and snap a picture of the image, then return it to its home. I squash down the feeling of warmth in my chest and quickly fold the clothes. I place them in a neat pile and as I turn to walk away, my foot catches something under the bed and I almost trip. When I look down, I see what looks to be a strap coming from underneath the bed. It has a clasp at the end and I tug on it. It doesn’t budge. My curiosity gets the better of me, so I lift up the bed skirt and see it’s attached to the wood of the bed. I carefully return it to its place under the bed, and I walk to the other side and find another in the opposite corner.
I check the top corners of the bed, and sure enough, he has all four corners rigged with the straps. I’ve watched enough porn and read enough dark romance to know what this is. He ties people up.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
It’s at that moment that my nerves start firing. I shouldn’t be here. I grab the clothes, double checking to make sure the entire room is exactly how I found it, and I walk back out to the landing. I close the door and simply place the stack of clothes in front of it.
I scurry down the stairs, and all I can think about is the fact that Marcus is kinky. The quiet, grumpy man I know iskinky. The image of him tying a woman up on that bed flash through my mind. Why is that the hottest shit I’ve come across in years? I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and down half of it,rubbing the cold bottle on my forehead in between chugs to try to cool myself down.
My brain must be backfiring because suddenly in my mind, I’m the one on the bed. He’s connecting cuffs on my wrists and ankles to the straps, and I’m struggling.
Fuck! I cannot think of these things. Shit.
At that moment, I hear the garage door opening and the sound of Marcus’ truck. I look at the clock on the stove and wonder what he’s doing home at 11 a.m. I take a few deep breaths to compose myself before I hear him come through the door.
“Hey, princess.”
“Hi!” My voice is way too high pitched.
His eyebrows raise. “Sorry if I scared you.”
