Spoiler Alert (Spoiler Alert #1)(40)
Awkwardly, attempting not to elbow him, April nudged Marcus toward the center of the back seat and maneuvered out of his lap. Sliding across, he supported the elderly woman’s elbow as she slowly climbed out.
“That Lavinia girl seems nice.” One more rap of her cane against his shin. “Don’t screw things up.” Her eyes flicked to April. “That goes for this one too.”
Then she was safely on the sidewalk, and Marcus shut the door behind her, blocking out the clamor of questions and the blinding strobe of camera flashes in an instant.
His gaze immediately returned to April, now huddled against the far door. A line appeared between his brows as his smile faded to nothing.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
“I’m sorry, but we need a moment to figure that out. Feel free to start the meter.” Marcus didn’t look away from April. “Um . . . this taxi ride was my idea, not yours. Please let me pay for it. I’ll take you back to your hotel, or wherever you want to go. We could hang out at—”
Whatever he was going to suggest, she didn’t want to do it. Not until she’d had the chance to think. And their surreal duo of dates had already taken up entirely too much of her time and her thoughts, given her current circumstances.
“I need to get back to my apartment and prep a little more before my furniture starts arriving Wednesday. Sorry.” She leaned forward to speak to the driver. “Please drop me off at the Civic Center station.”
“Let me take you directly to your apartment instead. If that’s okay with you.” Marcus sounded tentative. “I’d like to save you some hassle.”
It was a kind offer, and she was too tired to turn it down. “Thanks.”
After she gave the driver her new address, the cab began moving, Lizzo’s voice now the only noise in the vehicle.
Maybe she’d have a few minutes that night to write and get out all her tangled feelings about BAWN, about Marcus, about being on camera in ways sure to trickle into her private life. She should have plenty of time. After all, she wouldn’t be spending an hour or two corresponding with her best online friend anymore.
The view outside the window blurred, for just a moment.
“Hey.” Lightly, Marcus touched her elbow with a fingertip. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said, and let him interlace their fingers on his firm thigh.
That wasn’t a passive-aggressive dodge, either. She was fine. She would be. No matter what happened with BAWN, and no matter what happened with Marcus.
And maybe—maybe—the paparazzi’s intrusion had disoriented her more than she’d acknowledged. She’d already known about Marcus’s media persona, after all. Its reappearance shouldn’t have either surprised or bothered her.
In his inimitable fashion, he’d also protected her, drawing the paparazzi’s attention away from pressing her about her name, her work, or other identifying information. Even if she knew public knowledge of her real identity was—like so much else—only a matter of time.
More importantly: Even if she couldn’t trust him, not yet, she needed to trust herself and her own instincts. Those instincts were telling her the man beside her, with his grave eyes and gentle hold, was the true Marcus. Not the man who’d dismissed their day together as the necessary price he’d had to pay in exchange for physical closeness and intimacy.
Turning away from the window, she swung her knees to the side until they brushed his. “You distracted those people very capably.” With one finger, she marked a line down the center of his chest. “Very nakedly too. You’ll probably need a hot shower when you get back to the hotel.”
His lean body shifted under her fingertip, his belly rising and falling with each quick, deep inhalation. “Not if you keep touching me like that.”
Those formfitting jeans didn’t quite conceal his reaction to the contact.
“Well, I don’t want you to get frostbite.” Through the soft fabric of his tee, she traced the top of his jeans, the band of fabric riding low against those firm, flexing abdominals. “Not when you sacrificed your body for my sake.”
His voice turned low. Serious. “My body is a tool. That’s all.”
“Still.” She scooted a little closer on the seat. “Thank you for protecting me as best you could.”
His brow creased beneath that golden sweep of hair, and he captured her wandering digit in a light hold. “I only delayed the inevitable. At some point, they’re going to know your name and your address. Probably your phone number too.” He pressed a kiss to the pad of her finger. “I’m sorry, April.”
She shrugged. “It’s not your fault. When I agreed to dinner and today’s date, I knew all that was a possibility. I’ve tried to mentally prepare myself, but if I have trouble handling it, I’ll ask you for advice.”
“Of course,” he said, pressing her palm against his cheek. “Whatever you need.”
He couldn’t protect her from public scrutiny, even if he tried. Not without hiding her from the world like a dirty secret—which would hurt her so much more than even the most unflattering candid shot or intrusive phone call. Besides, protecting her wasn’t his job.
Making all the inconvenient aspects of dating him worth it? Now, that was his job. One he could resume . . . tomorrow, maybe? If his flight didn’t leave too early?