Page 87 of Rules to Love By

“You should go take a shower. Get some food into you.”

“You haven’t asked what I was doing in the city.”

“You’ll tell me.”

“You think?” The man was so fucking confident that Marcus would just roll over for him. Maybe it wouldn’t be so irritating if there wasn’t a part of Marcus that wanted to.

“If it matters, yes. But not right now. I have to hang up the phone and get back on the road so I can get to you. I want you to shower and change and eat something while you wait for me.”

“That an order?”

“It’s a suggestion. You take from it what you need for right now. And trust that I will be there as soon as I can get there.”

“There are a ton of people here.”

“Good. Let them help you until I get there.”

“Why?”

“Because they care about you.”

“No. Why are you coming?”

Over the phone, Eli’s deep intake of breath was clear. So was the measured release. “Lots of reasons. But mostly because that’s where I need to be.”

Marcus frowned. He wasn’t sure what that even meant. Eli barely knew him. They’d been on a single date. And yeah, they’d had sex, but what did that mean between a couple of guys who had a lot of regular unattached sex?

“Please give the phone to Tris.”

“You going to tell him my instructions?”

“No. That’s between you and me. I’m going to ask him to look after you.”

“He already does that.”

“Just give him the phone.”

“Fine.” He didn’t say goodbye or wait to hear it from Eli, but thrust the phone out to Tris. “Wants to talk to you. I’m going to shower.”

Spinning on his heel, he all but dashed for the door between the kitchen and the back hallway that led to the private suites. Once behind the closed door, he could sweat and shake all he wanted. Maybe even duck out to the veranda and find someplace else to be before Eli got there. He just didn’t have the stamina for that. Not after a night in the cold, driving a stupid scooter eighty kilometers, because that’s what the things were made for, obviously.

As soon as the door closed behind him, though, his breath whooshed out. He bent double, hands on his knees, trying to get it back. It took some time, and when he finally straightened back up and glanced in the direction of the veranda and escape, he deflated. Why run? Where would he go? He was already here, the last place he could think of to hide from the loss of basically his entire life. At least here, he had friends, a job, and a place to stay.

With a sigh, he pushed through to the bathroom and stripped for the shower.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

When Marcus emerged later, a towel draped over the back of his neck to catch the drips from his still-wet hair, the two uniformed men standing by the back door were more of a surprise than they should have been.

“Well.” He wiped the towel over his curls.

“Marcus Richards?” one of the cops asked.

Marcus nodded.

“We’d like to talk to you about the Egg Basket. You know it?”

“Lived there most of my life.”

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