Detachment Ch. 06-10

Could I see myself dating Senna? Definitely. So much more so than Nicolette. Do I want to date her? Not really...

The reason I don't want to try with a girl who I know I'd be stupid not to try with is the same reason that I finally feel like I'm ready to connect emotionally with someone. And that reason is upstairs in her room beating herself up about last night.

Constantly being around Kylie these last few weeks has stirred something up in me, something I worked hard to suppress and deny. That connection we have, the way we care for one another—it all warms my icy heart and gives me a reason to feel. Lately, she's been driving me wild, but these last two days... having her around has had me feeling dizzy. And yesterday morning, when I woke up to Kylie's beautiful face? My heart legit skipped a beat. All I wanted to do was reach over, caress her cheek, then sit up and kiss her.

Smitten and falling for a married woman? That's not a good place to be. Just like losing Cassie to Tim, not being able to be with Kylie will only end in heartache. The only way I could think to get my mind off of her was to lose myself in someone else. Thankfully, Senna came along in time for me to divert this flirtatious, romantic energy toward. Despite focusing on her all yesterday, I still couldn't get Kylie off of my mind for a second. And now, as I'm sitting here chatting with this amazing girl over waffles and fruit, all I can think about is that moment I shared with Kylie last night.

***

After breakfast, Senna heads off to a plot development workshop while I meander over to another ballroom for Pitch Fest. Basically, this event is speed dating for authors. In the traditional publishing realm, aspiring authors line up and sit down one on one with a literary agent or an editor to elevator pitch their story. Here at Indie Fest, it works the same way, except some of the owners of the independent publishing companies, like myself, or their editors are the ones listening to their thirty-second to five-minute pitch. Because most of us can't afford to pay literary agents. Hopefully I'll have a full-time editor on staff before next year, because I really don't feel like sitting here listening to people ramble on about their work for two half hours... Especially not today... while I'm so distracted...

There are a couple of good pitches that grabbed my attention but, for the most part, I am zoned out all afternoon. When it's over, I walk away with a list of a little over a dozen authors I want to request sample work from.

Instead of attending the workshop that I planned on going to, I have a seat in the lobby and text Kylie. When she turns down my invitation to grab lunch, stress sets in. I'm stressing because I'm worried that our friendship will end up becoming rocky in light of last night.

I hope she's not mad at me for not kissing her... She better not be feeling embarrassed, either.

In classic Marcus fashion, I get so in my head overthinking things that I give myself a damn headache. The best thing for me to do now is sleep, so I head to the Grand Hyatt's Market to grab a sandwich, then venture back up to my room.

***

A nap and a shower do me some good, but I quickly spiral back into a daze thinking about this messy situation we've found ourselves in.

I need a beer, I think, texting Kylie to meet me at The Lounge if she'd like to join me for a drink.

At the bar, I order a Brooklyn Lager, some wings, and some loaded nachos in anticipation of Kylie joining me. One and a half beers later, the food arrives.

"Is this seat taken?" Kylie says from behind me.

My face lights up before I even turn around. Then, as soon as I see her in this burgundy dress that hugs her form perfectly, my jaw goes slack. "Well, hello there... You look amazing. Per usual, of course."

She curtseys before sitting. "Thank you. You're looking quite dapper yourself. Haven't seen you suited up since my wedding."

"Thanks." I take a sip of beer. "Thought you were going to sleep until tomorrow morning."

"Uh, you've been nominated for an Indie Thriller of the year award. I wouldn't miss this banquet for anything."

I smile, sliding the chips and wings over to her. "Have some."

She takes a chip. "Loaded nachos? Clearly you knew I was coming."

"I had a hunch." I then slide my beer over to her.

She takes a sip then slides it back over to me. "Ooh! That's pretty good!"

"Local beer," I say, deliberately drinking from where her lipstick is printed on the glass. "So, you alright now?"

She nods as she bites into a wing. "Yeah. I'm good," she mumbles.

"Are we good?"

"Of course, Marcus..." She pauses. "I just needed to do some introspection."

I want to probe further, but I decide against it. If she wants to talk, she will. "Introspection is always good..." We lock eyes as she guzzles my beer. "Should I flag down the bartender?"

She checks her watch. "Sure, I think there's time to finish a drink and potty before the banquette." She takes another drink. "Might want to get yourself another one too."

Kylie and I sit near the front where the other nominees are. There's music from a local band followed by several speeches from famous indie authors. Once the last one wraps up, the host gets to the nominations and award distributions.

"And the winner of the Indie Fest thriller award is... Marcus Jones, bestselling author of his debut novel, Sentinels: Axiom!"

It's so surreal that it doesn't click that my name and my book just won until Kylie screams, "Oh my god! Marcus! Congratulations!" She wraps her arms around me then plants a big, wet kiss against my cheek.

I'm so elated, so overwhelmed from winning an award that I can never tell my mom about that the rest of the banquet is a blur. At the afterparty, I head right to the bar and have a celebratory cocktail with Kylie. Despite how bittersweet the moment is, I relish the fact that I achieved one of my greatest dreams tonight and now I get to celebrate this milestone with the only person in the world I want by my side right now.

Kylie's hand rest on my arm. "I'm so proud of you, Marcus." She raises her martini glass to me. "Cheers to many more awards and best sellers, and to your success in all your future ventures!"

I clink her glass then drink. "Thank you, Kylie. I hope you'll be by my side for all of it."

"So long as I don't end up disappointing you as an employee, I'll be there."

I cup her hand, caressing her knuckles with my thumb. "You could never disappoint me, Kylie. Ever."

Blushing, she finishes her drink. "I can't believe this is our last night here... Ugh, I wish we didn't have to go back tomorrow."

I stare into my scotch as though the words I'm looking for will float to the surface. "I mean, we don't have to go back..." I almost sigh, looking up at her afterwards. Now I'm lost into those mesmerizing, sapphire pools she calls eyes. "You tell me staying one more night won't be a problem for you, and we'll stay. You deserve at least one vacation day in New York City. We can do some sightseeing, spend all day eating, wander around until we get tired..."

Smiling, she brushes her hair back behind her ear. "That sounds absolutely amazing..." Now she's staring into her empty glass, twirling it between her fingers. "Okay." She turns to me. "Let's do it. I'm in no rush to go home and get reamed out for no good reason."

I pump my fist. "That's what I was hoping you'd say! This Indie Pub Con has been great, but I think what I'd really enjoy is spending the day with my favorite person."

She leans against me and rests her head on my shoulder for a brief moment. "I would thoroughly enjoy that, too."

What are we getting ourselves into?

Sunday

It's not even 8:20 a.m. when I get out of the shower. Right as I'm buttoning up my shirt, Kylie knocks on the door.

"Come on in!" I holler from the bathroom.

"Morning!" she says cheerily.

"Good morning! How'd you beat me getting ready?" I say, stepping out into the room. I don't try to hide the fact that I'm checking her out.

She drapes her peacoat over the chair. "I woke up extra early because I didn't want me getting ready to be the reason that we missed out on a single minute of today!"

That's exactly why we kept our drinks limited to three last night. The last thing either of us wanted was to be knocked out until noon. So, after taking a bunch of pictures and mingling with the award winners, we hung out with Senna and my new writer friends until ten then called it a night. I didn't linger in her room this time around, either. Today will be the day for talking about anything and everything.

I slide my wallet and phone into my pocket then grab my coat. "Well, this day is for you, so I don't want to keep you waiting either! Let's roll!"

It's a clear day, but still a bit chilly, so we take a cab up to the Upper East Side to hit up Sarabeth's for breakfast. Since we're planning on walking around a lot and eating all day, we keep breakfast light. After that, it's on to Juliano Gourmet Coffee, a few blocks away. Hot espressos in hand, we double back then make our way to Central Park. She and I walk arm in arm, talking non-stop, laughing, enjoying the ambiance of this beautiful park in the fall.

We stroll through the park, all the way down East 59^th Street, then we decide to keep walking towards Times Square. Because tourists. Along the way, we stop at Kwik Meal Cart for a foodie blog-recommended rice and lamb platter. She and I sit down on a raised cement wall surrounding a tree and share the meal. Now it's on to Times Square. We take pictures, check out some stores. I buy her a few things as a thanks for all her work this weekend. And because I want to spoil her...

Bibble & Sip is our next stop, because she's craving desserts. Coffees, Chocolate Black-Out Cake, Apple Turnover, a brownie in our possession, we head outside then walk up the block to where the Uber is waiting for us.

"When did you get an Uber?" She asks with mouth full of cake. "Where are we going now?"

I glance at my watch. "You'll see..."

Delight and intrigue appear on her face.

The driver drops us off near the end of West 34^th Street across from the fenced off area. When traffic is clear, I lead us across the street and point at the sign.

"Welcome to High Line Park!" I almost shout.

She grins. "Okay... Weirdo. What's here?"

"This is an elevated rail line turned linear park. As to why we're here, I'll tell you in, like, fifteen minutes."

She smiles. "Fine, keep me in suspense why don't ya!"

We take a slow walk around to the Hudson Yards viewpoint that overlooks the Hudson River.

"This view is beautiful," she says, approaching the railing.

I stand beside her, admiring her side profile. "A beautiful view indeed."

She glances sidelong at me. When she realizes that I meant her, her face goes red and she grins, looping her arm through mine and leaning her head against mine as she looks out toward Jersey. "Wait... You brought me here to see the sunset, didn't you...?"

"Yup," I say, gazing at the orange and purple hues outlining the skyline ahead.

"If you're trying to take my breath away," she says, inhaling deeply as she turns to me, "you might want to go get me an oxygen mask, mister..."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be... This day was absolutely amazing. Exactly what I needed. And watching the sunset here... with you..."

A breeze rolls through and she shivers, prompting her to wrap her arm around my back. I turn her and then she puts her arms inside my open coat and embraces me. Now I snake my arms around her, pulling her into me. We stand there, rocking side to side, staring into each other's eyes longingly. After a few beats, I rest my forehead against hers. Her chest heaves as she takes a slow, deep breath. Now I tilt my chin down and kiss her cheek. She then looks up at me, biting her bottom lip naughtily.

"Like this..." I whisper.

"Huh?"

"Friday night... I didn't do what I wanted because I wanted it to happen like this..."

She shuts her eyes. "Marcus..."

"If losing my mom taught me anything, it's that life's too short to miss out on the things you want—too short for regrets."

"I agree..." she whispers.

I lean in. "The only thing I would regret more than not kissing you right here and right now is doing it and ruining things between us. So, Kylie, may I—"

She leans in close, so close that her lips brush against mine. "Marcus... stop talking..."

Then, at long last, our lips meet.

Chapter 10

Kylie

Monday

That kiss... Oh God... That kiss took my breath away. It turned the bones in my legs to Twizzlers. It made me so horny that it took everything in me not to drag him down to one of those abandoned train cars below High Line Park and have him rail me. That kiss? I felt it throughout my entire body, which is something that's never happened with anyone else.

Staring out the Subaru window at the orange, red, and yellow Connecticut fall scenery blurring by us on the highway, all I can think about is time traveling back to that moment and reliving it over and over and over so I can keep feeling that good—that happy...

Things following that kiss were pretty magical too, though no more smooching happened on account of us agreeing that our unforgettable kiss at the High Line should be where our affair began and ended. His idea, not mine. Still, we held hands while watching the sunset, then we walked hand in hand out of High Line Park and didn't let each other go until we walked into the Italian restaurant where we had a very romantic dinner. On the Uber ride back to the hotel, we snuggled in the backseat. And when we arrived at my hotel room... I ached to have his lips on mine again, and I could tell he was aching for it too, but we both resisted our urges.

That is, until I saw the adoring way that he looked at me before we hugged goodnight...

The sexual tension that we kept in check all night ramped up immediately, filling the air between us with heat and static as we held each other in the doorway. Fuck it, I thought, pulling away and bringing my mouth to his. I didn't have to wait long for him to seize the opportunity I presented him and close the small gap between our mouths. The kiss that followed quickly transitioned to one of those clothes-tugging, stumbling back into the room scrambles of a make-out session that always precede crazy hot sex. A few feet from the bed, this stomach-churning guilt panged in my belly. And, as though he felt it too, we both pulled away at the same time...

"We shouldn't," Marcus whispered.

"We shouldn't," I parroted.

He sighed heavy. "You've got some things to figure out when you get home... I know that. But today? This was me showing you how I feel... If it turns out that things end up not working out with you two, I'll be waiting."

That first kiss of the day was shamefully the best kiss I've ever had, supercharged by weeks—months—of built-up feelings and amplified by the best date of all time. But even more shamefully than the fact that my best first kiss wasn't with the man I call my husband, that first kiss of the day at High Line Park was not the first kiss that Marcus and I have shared...

One Year Ago

August

A few Saturdays before my bachelorette party, Brittani Sherwood, my best friend since eighth grade and maid of honor, had presented me with the most boring itinerary of all time for my last outing as an unmarried woman... It was worse than the baseball game, dinner, and Barcade event that Travis's brother, Mitch, arranged for him.

That following Monday at lunch with the Biossure work clique, Marcus was joking about the legendary bachelor party he wanted to throw for Travis, even though he wasn't even the best man... He listed some ridiculous but also great ideas for Travis's perfect night.

"You should throw my bachelorette party for me," I joked when he finished his spiel about strippers wearing Patriots jerseys coming to their Airbnb. I listed the events of the snore-fest that Brittani had planned for me then said, "Mine's going to suck!"

"Pay me in beer and chicken and I'll be your man of honor, Kylie," he replied with a smirk.

"Deal! You have, like, a week to come up with something..."

"Shit, I'll come up with something in two days, tops! Throwing parties? Coming up with epic nights? That is what I excel at."

It was barely two hours after work when Marcus texted me with the bachelorette party that he devised for me whilst eating dinner. A morning at the spa. Brunch at The Gallows. A bar crawl downtown to a bunch of my favorite spots from my college days. The crawl would end with an Italian-themed dinner served on this yacht in the Boston seaport that he randomly found on Airbnb. That's where he'd be acting as our bartender. In leu of male strippers, me and the girls would watch the Magic Mike movies and play a drinking game to it because, as Marcus texted me, he didn't "wanna see cock dangling like tails while making cocktails ."

I freakin' lost it!

The pampering I so dearly needed. A meal and mimosas at my favorite brunch spot that my mom used to always take Sara and me to. A night on the water that I always dreamed of. Though it was a just joke, it meant the world to me that he not only remembered all of my favorite things, but he also knew how to weave them together for my picture-perfect day. And he did it in just a few hours, no less. He somehow knew all of that without me ever telling him, without me even knowing that the sequence of events he came up with would be exactly what I wanted for my bachelorette party. Not Brittani, but Marcus. Travis didn't even know me that well... He could have never orchestrated anything above surprising me with flowers and Starbursts...

I was so impressed that I had to hide my blushing and cheesing from Travis, who was sitting right beside me on the couch when I got that text.

Truth be told, soon after truly getting to know Marcus, I developed a bit of a crush on him. After that text, though, that crush I secretly harbored, the crush I'd buried under my growing love for Travis, resurfaced and began teetering over the line into infatuation territory.

So, I texted him: OMG! OMG! I'm so regretting not asking you to be my Man of Honor! That would be the perfect bachelorette party! Too bad my girls are all broke... :(.

His response was: Listen, I've got money saved for that business I'm working on. And this is your special night we're talking about, so I could swing that for you if you really wanted. Just don't expect a wedding gift after. Or anything for Xmas for the next four years lol .

Me: I could never ask you to do that!

Marcus: You've easily become one of my best friends. Let this be my gift to you, Kylie. Just say the word & I'll arrange it.

Me: The word ;)

Marcus: I'm on it!

Of course, I was joking. But then that following Friday, he sent me a screenshot with the Airbnb confirmation for a 43-foot Hatteras yacht. And then I got the email with deluxe spa passes for my sister, me, Brittani, and the two bridesmaids, Jen and Shirley. I couldn't friggin' believe it. I was so happy that I was on the verge of tears. Then I got a Snapchat of him making this disgusted face while looking at the Magic Mike 1 and 2 Blu-rays he was holding. I fell over laughing.

***