Rock Chick Reawakening (Rock Chick 0.5)(44)

I wished I could believe the reasons behind what that seemed to mean were real.

“Hey,” I greeted him quickly, then looked to the front, into the sunglassed eyes I saw in the rearview mirror. “Hey, Ronald.”

“Yo,” he grunted.

That was usually the most I got out of Ronald and that was all I got out of him then as he started us moving along the back of Smithie’s.

I kept my eyes there, thanking the Lord my Porsche was in the parking spot closest to the elevators in Marcus’s garage (a spot Marcus insisted I parked in the minute he gave me the remote to his garage). That would make it (slightly) easier to get away once I did what I had to do.

This was my thought until the side of Marcus’s forefinger and his thumb took gentle hold of my chin and he turned my head to face him.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey,” I repeated my earlier greeting.

“Everything okay?”

I gave him the lie I gave Smithie. He’d learn it was a lie in about fifteen minutes, but whatever.

I’d get this done.

And I was Daisy.

So no matter how much it tore me apart, I’d then move on.

Which meant Marcus would be able to move on to a woman that suited him.

That woman obviously not being me.

That lie was, “Peachy.”

He didn’t let my chin go, and in the streetlights that illuminated the interior of the car, he studied me.

“You sure?” he asked.

God, I hated that he could read me.

I nodded, still held in his light grip. “Yep.”

It took him another couple of moments to let me go. When he did, I looked to my knees.

“You were great tonight,” he stated.

“Thanks, sugar,” I muttered.

“You’re always great.”

“Thanks,” I repeated.

“Party go okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Your friend like her cake?”

I looked out the windshield and nodded.

“Good,” Marcus murmured, sounding distracted.

I drew in a breath.

I let it go.

Marcus fell silent.

I did not fill that void.

Ronald drove us to Marcus’s penthouse and he rode up with us and stood in the vestibule as Marcus let us in.

“Thank you, Ronald,” Marcus said to him as I scooted in the door Marcus pushed open for me.

Ronald had no reply.

I looked out the windows at the lights of the city, the shadowed grandeur of the Front Range, hating it that was the last time I’d see that view and wishing in that moment something that gorgeous had never been given to me.

Wishing that so I wouldn’t wish the same about other, more important things.

I heard the door close behind me.

I turned to Marcus.

“Ready for bed?” he asked.

“I’m leaving,” I blurted.

That wasn’t how I’d wanted to start it.

Then again, that was as good a way to start as any.

His body in the subdued lighting of elegant sconces glowing low on their dimmers visibly tightened.

“I’m sorry?” he asked quietly.

“I’m leaving,” I repeated.

“You’re…leaving,” he said slowly.

“I…uh, yeah.”

“Why?”

I didn’t answer that.

I said, “It’d be nice if you texted me a time when I could come back and get my stuff and arrange for someone to let me into your penthouse.”

The air in the room changed.

I ignored it.

“Why?” he repeated, sounding more terse, in other words, demanding.

“I just really need to go. Now,” I told him.

“Without telling me why?” he pushed.

I knew it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

But I guessed I didn’t have in me what I needed to have in me to do this fair and right.

Not even for Marcus.

Because I was leaving Marcus.

“Can we just please make this easy?” I requested.

“You wish to come back and get your stuff. This indicates you’re leaving and not coming back. Except to collect your things.”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Why?”

I swallowed.

“Did something happen?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Then why?”

“Marcus, please.”

“Tell me…”

And then I jumped when he completely lost it and I’d never seen Marcus lose it, not ever, and definitely not with me.

He did this leaning toward me and shouting, “Why?”

“You don’t want me,” I returned.

His torso reared back.

“Are you insane?” he asked.

“You won’t sleep with me,” I replied.

“I’ve been sleeping with you for weeks.”

“Right,” I bit out, losing it myself. “I’ll say it different. You won’t f*ck me.”

“No, Daisy, I’ll never f*ck you.”

My head jerked like he’d slapped me.

“I’ll never f*ck you,” he repeated and went on, “You aren’t that woman to me.”