Page 152 of Mark

I struggle to open the door, but when I do, I instantly regret it. Because standing in front of me, looking as hot as ever, is Mark. His skin has bronzed out more since we last saw each other.

My lips part, and I know I can’t step back and close the door. There is no pretending I haven’t seen him. There is no going back.

And there’s no denying how fast my heart is pumping, or how my body is itching to get closer to him.

It’s been so long, I was beginning to think everything between us was a mirage. It’s not. All those feelings I’ve been grasping onto since I was told the truth, come flooding back. They’re just as strong as they were before my sister happened to us.

“You answered,” he greets, before shaking himself out of it. “Please, hear me out. What you saw wasn’t what you think it was. Your sister… Fuck! She put it all into play, but I swear to you, I never touched her. Well, I did, but not in a sexual manner. I was putting a bandage on her leg.”

Before he can continue to ramble, I whisper, “I know. I know everything.”

“You do?” he asks, his eyebrows pinching together in an adorable way. I let go of Mellow, who runs back to the sofa, making huffing sounds like I’ve ruined his day. “I don’t understand. You’ve not been messaging back.”

“Because I’m embarrassed. My sister is unhinged and you were front row to witness that. I…”

His expression relaxes, his eyes going soft. “You walked in on something that hurt you. Despite it not being what you thought it was, you were hurt, and do you know why?”

“Why?” I croak out.

I still can’t believe he’s here, that he is standing in front of me. That for a moment, there’s hope I could have him back in my life.

I have missed him so much, it hurts.

He grins. “Because you love me.”

“I…I…” I stutter.

I need to wake up. This has to be a dream.

“I got you something for your birthday,” he tells me, holding up a white box. “Go on, lift up the lid.”

Shock has me stepping forward, lifting the lid on the box. The sides collapse, revealing a three-tiered cake. It has yellow frosting with happy birthday written on the top. “I told you, you didn’t need to get me a cake.”

He grimaces. “It’s actually my cake. Mum couldn’t save yours from Max. You would have liked it. It had flowers and butter cream filling inside.”

I hold my breath for a moment, and the tears stinging my eyes begin to roll down my cheeks.

He can’t mean what I think he means.

“You’re giving me your cake?” I struggle to get out.

“Yes.”

“You’re willingly giving me your food?”

He leans in, searching my eyes. “Have you been drinking?”

“No, I’m just trying to wrap my head around you willingly sharing your cake. You’ve raved about your cake. You spent three hours talking about past cakes. There’s no one behind you with a gun or knife to your back. You are just here, handing me your cake of your own free will.”

He snorts. “Like someone with a knife or a gun would make me give my cake away.”

“You are freaking me out. You don’t give people food. You steal other people’s food. But you never give it to someone.”

“If it freaks you out less, I am hoping you’ll give me a slice,” he adds. “Can I put this down? It’s kind of heavy.”

I step back so he can place it down on the side table next to the door. I don’t understand this. I walked away. I believed my sister over him.

I don’t deserve him. And he doesn’t deserve the drama my sister causes.

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