Page 25 of You Were Mine

“They are if you’re in a hurry.”

“So maybe you need to quit hitting the snooze button on your phone,” I say wryly.

He opens his mouth to retort but closes it without comment.

“Got you there, huh? So, chess and checkers? You felt like you didn’t belong? Were they rude to you?”

“No,” he replies, sounding absentminded. “It was just odd, I guess. I met Drake Elwood. Do you know him?”

“Sure. The business building on campus is named for his family.”

“But you don’t hang out with him.”

“No, not really.”

Mark plants an elbow on the sofa-arm and rests his cheek in his hand. “Logically, I should have had a good time. I was with an attractive man at an expensive gala in an art gallery.”

“But you didn’t have a good time?”

“Not really.”

I sigh. “I want you to be happy, Mark, that’s all. When it comes right down to it. I want you to be happy. And if that’s with Brandon, then I am happy for you. So why did you leave and come back here?”

MovieFlix finally starts the movie, but I only half pay attention to it.

“Did Brandon do something to upset you?” I ask. “Do you want me to go and key his car?”

“No, of course not!”

“I’ll look him dead in the eye and do it.”

“I know you would,” Mark says, shaking his head. “Leave Brandon alone. He’s this completely perfect guy.”

Yeah.Creepilyperfect. He’s probably the result of alien engineering.

“Don’t pick on him,” Mark replies, shoving his shoulder against mine. “It’s been a confusing night.”

“What do you mean?”

“I broke up with Brandon. Or he broke up with me. I guess it was pretty mutual.”

I wince. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugs. “It’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll just date you instead.”

I have a retort ready, but it dies on my tongue. When I chance a look at Mark, he hasn’t moved. He doesn’t even look at me, but I can see his smirk.

“You’re serious?” I ask.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yes, but—”

“But I think I’ve liked…no…loved you for a very long time,” Mark says. “It just took me a while to piece it all together. You know I’m slow with stuff like that.”

I carefully lean over and kiss him on the mouth. His lips are rough and chapped by the cool autumn air. Mark smells like peppermint and tastes like a bit like copper. His hand curls in my hair, and I tip over, awkwardly flailing onto his lap. Mark shakes with laughter as Reese’s cups fall free from my bowl and scatter over the carpet.

“Did you get yourself drunk or is it just that you’ve fallen for me?” Mark asks, his eyes bright and eager.

---