Page 39 of The Other Side of Apart

My whole body jolts, and I close my eyes, clutching my phone. Breathe through my nose. Okay. This is a start. I swallow the adrenaline because words and relief wanna burst out of me, but I’m not gonna tell Mei yet—not until I’ve got everything worked out. There are four more steps to take before we can get back to where we were. But we’ve got until August. Almost a year. Totally doable.

My eyes devour the academic advisor’s email—she wants me to schedule a time to talk so we can go over details and process for returning, including getting my spot back on the team, which, unfortunately, can’t be discussed until spring when scholarships go out. But there is so much hope sitting in these black and white words. I set the phone down on the counter and rub my hands down my face. Yeah. Today’s already massively better than every day since we left Stanford, and it’s only 8 AM. Today, hope finally caught up to me.

CHAPTER 20

Two Months Later

MARCUS’S SEPTEMBER GOALS:

1. Make Mei smile every day, multiple times a day (minimum of 10)

2. Find the tunnels under the city where people live

3. Make Mei laugh every day, multiple times a day (minimum 5 times—I can’t be hilarious all the time)

4. Learn how to do a handstand since Mei can, and I hate losing to her

5. Make Mei happy every day (no minimum)

6. Take a motorcycle ride to Area 51 so I can prove there’s no such thing as aliens

7. Make Mei really, really happy. A lot. (Unlimited times)

“Ihate it when you work on my days off,” I whine into my afternoon bowl of cereal. “I can only try so many new recipes. And who wants to clean or do laundry for fun? We really need to get on the same schedule.”

Marcus puts the milk carton back in our nearly empty fridge and laughs. “Sounds like somebody’s spoiled now, living in this luxury extended stay motel instead of porno-murder motel where you had to fight for survival all day.” He picks up his bowl of cereal and sits across from me. “You got free cable with fifteen mostly working channels, and now you’re too good for it, you and your quarter-operated washing machines.” He shakes his head and I laugh as he goes on. “What more do you need than drug busts every night, prostitution rings on the daily? Or twenty-four-hour security since the cops are constantly out in that parking lot?”

“You’re right—thanks for keeping me grounded.” I push the floating marshmallows to the side of my bowl with my spoon, saving them for last. “But if I have to hear ‘Exotic Dancer’ One and ‘Exotic Dancer’ Two talk about how much they’d like to ‘get with you’ one more time while I’m pulling your underwear from the dryer, I’m gonna?—”

“Ooh. You mean the strippers across the hall? I like where this is going.”

I roll my eyes, scooping marshmallows onto my spoon, and devour them before taking my bowl to the sink. “Seriously, though,” I say, scrubbing my bowl and setting it on the rack to dry. “It’s like they think I’m deaf. Or maybe they don’t care. Either way, it bugs me. And—AND,” I say over my shoulder, “when you come home from work every night, they’re lurking outside, ready to rip off your clothes before they go to work to take off theirs. Have you not noticed?”

Marcus’s chair scrapes the floor, and I smile down at the sink, ready to feel him behind me, and when his hands run downmy sides, I relax into him, his laughter rumbling against my neck as he kisses it.

“It’s not funny.”

“You’re right,” he murmurs into my ear. “It’s hilarious that you assume I’ve even noticed them when you’re anywhere in this world.” He kisses the tattoo on the back of my neck and rests his chin on top of my head, his arms draped over my shoulders. “The girl you should be worried about is the sexy one on the third floor. The Asian with the tattoo on her neck? You seen her?” He whistles and swears. “Can’t stop staring. Think I’m in love with her. She does things to me…”

I smile and lean my head back, wrapping my fingers around his forearms. “You don’t even know her.”

“But I’m going to. I’ve told the guys at work about her, and they say I should make my move, but…I’m kinda nervous, you know? She’s way out of my league, but I hear she likes white guys twice her size, so I think I might have a shot. What do you think?” He kisses the soft spot behind my ear, his breath warming my neck, and goosebumps rise on my skin. “Should I try and seduce her tonight? It’s all I can think about.”

“I’ve heard she’s always hoped to be seduced by you, but I’ve also heard she loves gelato, so you should probably start there and see how it goes.”

“Ooh—good call. You give the best dating advice.” Marcus kisses my neck again before his hands guide me to face him. “Anything else you’ve heard she likes?”

I bite my lower lip, sliding my hands under his shirt, and his stomach muscles tense. “She’s mentioned one other possibility…”

Marcus groans. “Is this other possibility something that can wait until after work so I don’t get fired for being late?”

I grip the waistband of his pants and tug him to me. “Show me the gelato, and we’ll see.”

He kisses my forehead and snatches his valet jacket off the chair. “Tell her that after work, I’m gonna make that possibility a reality.” He walks to the door. “I’ll be home at one. Two at the latest.”

I follow him onto the landing outside, but in a surprise twist, he turns and backs me against the doorframe, his mouth hot against mine. I gasp against his lips, and he growls and presses closer.

“You’re dangerous,” he breathes before our kiss works to a fever pitch, his body heat washing over me until we break apart to catch our breath. My legs tremble as the rest of me slowly drifts back to Earth.

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