One More Night

Bree had been watching Marc since she’d woke up this morning. He seemed so at ease and relaxed, but similarly he seemed tense and on edge at times, which she was attributing to the fact that he was at – essentially – a stranger’s home and had spent the night there. There wasn’t any other reason she could think of that would keep sneaking up on him and putting him on edge. That and when she’d asked about his brother – she’d seen almost panic take over his features before he quickly covered it up.

He had made himself at home, as she’d offered, and while their time together slowly disappeared she found herself wishing that he would stay even longer. Marc was so interesting, sweet, and of course attractive. He didn’t seem to realize any of these facts though, and more than once she found him trying to explain himself when she didn’t agree with or fully understand his stance or point. His cheeks would heat up and his deep baritone would waver ever so slightly, giving away his nervousness. She couldn’t help but wonder how he’d grown up, where he was so afraid of being wrong or saying something out of place that even now it worried him.

They curled up on the couch once they’d each finished their cups of coffee and Marc had made quick work of the apple he’d snagged from the bowl on the counter. She was sure he was still hungry, but she’d offered twice and he’d insisted that he was fine. He was polite nearly to a fault, but Bree found it endearing and cute.

“Um, I know I’m kind of doing this ass-backwards, but could… could I get your cell number?” Marc finally asked, and Bree felt herself blush as she nodded. She’d offered her phone charger to him so his cell phone wouldn’t die before he got home, so he walked over and disconnected it from the cord before returning and handing it to her so she could enter her information.

“Thanks,” he was so shy about it, that Bree couldn’t resist but lean over and press a soft kiss to his lips. Marc responded instantly, setting his phone down on the side table and pulling her into his arms properly. She melted against him, his strong arms encircling her and holding her tight, but never squishing her. Marc seemed to be a perfect mix of everything she could think of; he was strong yet gentle, quiet but opinionated; it almost made Bree suspect something was wrong. Nobody was this perfect.

When they pulled away Marc pressed his forehead to hers. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, wishing she had photographic, perfect memory so she could hold onto this particular moment forever. It was ridiculous because she hardly knew Marc, but somehow she felt as if he was the kind of person that once he was in your life he stayed there. Bree had dealt with many people walking out of her life – her mother included – so the stability Marc seemed to have gave her a sense of security. Security that she’d craved as a child and teenager, and had somehow found in a complete stranger.

Marc sighed, pulling her closer to his chest and resting his chin on top of her head, allowing her to nuzzle his neck and curl up basically on his lap. When she shivered he pulled the blanket off of the back of the couch and covered the both of them, wrapping an arm around the outside of the blanket and keeping her against his chest. The power in the tension of his forearm showed Bree the strength she’d noticed earlier, but Marc’s soft voice and quiet personality made her want to never leave the safety he provided.

The sound of his stomach grumbling cut through their quiet morning, and as Bree looked up to see Marc’s face a deeper red than his hair she began to laugh. She’d been positive that he’d been trying to be polite by refusing her offer of more food, and now his stomach had turned against him as well and outed him.

“Sorry…” he mumbled. She shook her head, kissing his cheek before reluctantly getting up, taking the blanket with her.

“I’ll make some eggs,” she replied, and while Marc argued that she didn’t need to go out of her way, she ignored him and pulled the carton from the fridge. After retrieving her frying pan and a few other things – the flipper, some milk and some butter to coat the pan – she had breakfast started. Minutes later she was dishing the eggs onto two plates, and with a shy, grateful smile Marc thanked her and took his former seat across the table from hers.

He didn’t say a word as he ate, his manners almost too polite to be everyday, especially for a guy. Bree had always been around her brother and his friends, and never had she seen a man eat so neatly. Or savor something as simple as scrambled eggs the way he seemed to – with the sounds his stomach had made earlier she had expected him to wolf his breakfast down in seconds flat.

“That was amazing – thanks Bree,”

“No problem,”

He insisted on helping her to do up the few dishes, even though she’d swore she could do them later. To be honest she didn’t want to waste the time that she had with him, but Marc was bound and determined to help her clean up; saying that she’d went out of her way for him and it was the least he could do.

“Your mom would be so proud, insisting on doing dishes,” she teased, and he let out a laugh, but it was almost forced. She decided to ignore it, and she feared that maybe his mother had passed away or something and she’d said something inappropriate but he didn’t want to confront the issue. Bree was always bad for saying something stupid like that, and she hated the fact she struggled with filtering out her thoughts.

“Yeah, probably,” he agreed, and then shot her an honest smile; his hazel eyes lighting up as he walked over to her and pulled her in for a soft kiss. Bree took a partial step closer, pressing her body against Marc’s warm one and closing her eyes. She could feel Marc relaxing into her, more of his weight resting on her as he wrapped his body around her. Neither of them wanted to let go of the time they’d spent together.

All too soon Marc’s cell was going off, a text message from his brother. Marc sighed and turned back to her, his hazel eyes dark and his expression solemn. It was beyond obvious neither of them wanted him to leave, but the following few texts and the buzzing that indicated Marc’s brother was now calling him cemented the fact he had to go. He picked up the phone and quickly typed a reply before turning to her. Without saying a word she walked into his arms, tipping her head up to meet his lips as he dipped his head to kiss her.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Marc whispered. Bree nodded, not really trusting her voice.

“Okay,” was her quiet response. Marc’s quiet smile told her all she needed to know, and they kissed once more before he moved toward the door. Bree let her arms drop to her side before wrapping them around herself, giving Marc a smile as he turned back and forlornly waved before letting himself out.

“Bye Marc,” she managed to choke out the words once the door had clicked shut, and shook her head. When had she turned into one of those ridiculous, lovesick girls who could fall for a man they hardly knew? Bree didn’t know the answer, but she knew Marc was going to worm his way close to her heart whether she liked it or not.