Page 44 of Personal Disaster

“As much as we need to last us until November.”

“Your friend’s wedding…”

“I was serious about you coming withme.”

In my circles, a wedding plus-one invite is more about appearances than significant feelings, but Marcus isn’t like that at all. He’s serious about a lot more than our nextdate.

“This is insane, you and me,” I whisper as I crawl on top of him. Our bodies are sweat-slicked and sated, but we fit together just right, and that fires something up inside me. Not just arousal. Something deeper.

A connection.

I don’t care that I smell like sex, that we both need showers.

I like the smell of Marcus on my skin. And from the possessive way he’s buried his face in my neck, I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.

“Come with me,” he murmurs roughly. “Don’t over thinkit.”

“That’s impossible. The overthinking, I mean. Going with you to a wedding sounds reallynice.”

“Nice?” He howls. “Death by faint praise.” He rolls me onto my back and gives me an amused smile. “What can I do to elevate it to pleasant?”

I swallow hard. “Well, it’s going to be Thanksgiving…and my family gets together in New Jersey…”

His eyes go wide, and for a second I think I’ve misread him. “Family?”

“Yeah.” Stand your ground, Lisowski. “My parents live in Chicago, but my brothers both go to school on the east coast, so…we do Thanksgiving at my aunt and uncles in Hoboken. I mean it’s going to be awful, of course. But maybe it could be awful for us both. Together.”

He rolls onto his side beside me and rubs his hand over his perfectly scruffy jaw. My heart hammers in my chest as he thinks about it, his brow drawing tight for a painfully long stretch before he shrugs. “Well…that might be nice, too.”

My pulse rockets as I push at his shoulder. “Somean.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” he murmurs, pouncing on me again as wekiss.

War—that’s been us from the start. Tension and sparringand…

Lust. Definitely that, too. An attraction unlike anything else I’ve experienced. Was that the start of love? A connection at first sight, one born out of kismet and chemistry instead of the slow-growth friendship I always expected to be the foundation forlove?

* * *

That night,we go out forBBQ.

“Revisiting the scene of our first date,” Marcus says, grinning atme.

“Really terrible date. You stormed out and I yelled atyou.”

“Yeah, but then you told me you had a crush on me, and all was right with the world. Now eat yourribs.”

I gaze at him happily across the table. Despite the lovely house and the fancy plane, I still can’t quite picture him with his friends. “Tell me about this wedding,” I say, licking sauce off my thumb. “It’s in NewYork?”

He nods. “At the Plaza. Fancy all theway.”

“You’ll be in asuit?”

He groans. “And a tie. I don’t mind dressing up, but the tie always killsme.”

“I bet you’ll look hot as… youknow.”

He laughs out loud. “Say it, Poppy.”

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