Page 169 of Prized Possession

His mouth has fallen open a little, and he lets out the softest snore I’ve ever heard. It’s closer to a rough exhale than a snore, but that’s not what I’ll tell him.

His arm is wrapped around me the way it always is, and once I’ve moved my head into the crook of his shoulder, instead of laying on his chest, it allows me to get a better view of his body.

Don’t get me wrong, over the last few weeks, I’ve had more than enoughopportunities to take in the firm lines of his body, having kissed almost every bit of it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to look.

He’s all kinds of perfect, and for just a moment, I do a little happy dance in my head, struggling to believe this is really my life. If you’d have told ten-year-old me that one day this would be my life, I’d probably have passed out with excitement.

I’d only just discovered boys, but already I knew which one I wanted. Even when he tried to make me hate him, all that did was make him hotter.

Girl world is hard to understand, but the idea of wanting what we can’t have isn’t a new concept. Not to mention, he was a bad boy, and all girls want to tame the bad boy—I just never thought I’d be the one to do it.

I look over at the clock on the nightstand, seeing it’s almost seven in the morning, and my stomach lurches as I remember why my nerves have woken me up so early.

It’s cake day!

Marcus opens his eyes to find me smiling to myself, and blush spreads across my cheeks as he stares at me.

“What’s got you so excited? Were you checking me out?”

He throws me a cheeky wink that makes my stomach flutter, but I roll my eyes at him, trying to look cool.

“Of course, I was checking you out. But I’m excited—and fucking terrified—as it’s cake day. In fact, I really have to get up now and get to work.”

As if to reinforce my statement, the alarm on my phone begins to gently vibrate when the clock turns to seven, letting me know I have to get up.

Marcus completely ignores me and pulls me in for a kiss, which quickly deepens and makes my toes curl. Reluctantly, I push away from him.

“I want nothing more than to stay in bed with you, but this is really important,” I tell him, and Marcus gives me an encouraging smile.

“I know it is, and I’m so fucking proud of you, love. You go and finish your cake, and we can say you owe me,” he smirks.

I lean down and kiss him one more time, pulling away before either of us can get caught up.

“I look forward to it,” I tell him. After taking a deep breath, with my voice as sincere as I can make it, I say, “Thank you.”

He shakes his head as he gives me a bright smile. “You don’t ever have to thank me, love. This is all you.”

“You believing in me means more than you know,” I admit, and the look he gives me in return makes me think maybe he does know.

He stays in bed as I rush into the bathroom. When I return, I quickly pull on my leggings and T-shirt, before heading into the kitchen.

Pulling out my notepad, I make a step-by-step list of everything I have left to do for the cake, and once I’m organised, I get to work.

Time flies while I’m in my own little bubble, flicking between my to-do list and the cake. Marcus comes into the kitchen for breakfast, making sure I stop for just a few minutes to eat something, which I’m grateful for.

Same again when he comes in and forces a coffee on me, whispering words of encouragement before he goes back to his office, leaving me in peace.

As the clock ticks on, my nerves begin to grow. I’m incredibly happy with the cake, but there were a few things that didn’t go according to plan, making me pivot in my design more than once.

I didn’t factor those mistakes into the schedule, which was stupid of me, so I’m cutting it close to get this cake ready on time.

Around fifteen minutes before the scheduled pick-up time, I take a step back and just look at the cake. I’ve been assessing every little detail for the last hour, making minor tweaks to get it looking perfect, but now's the time to step back and look at it as a whole.

When I do, my eyes fill with tears as I’m overcome with emotion. I look at the beautiful creation in front of me and I’m filled with a sense of pride I’ve never felt before. I made this—it was all me, my hard work, and it looks amazing. I just hope Leo and his daughter like it.

It’s at that point the nerves become overwhelming, and I start to panic. I tip-toe towards Marcus’ office, listening at the door to see if he’s on the phone, or busy with something important. When I don’t hear anything, I softly knock.

Within seconds, it springs open, Marcus’ concerned gaze scanning over me.

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