Caitlin's friendship with Marcus, the de facto frontman of the world's biggest boy band Gezellig, has long been an object of scrutiny by almost everyone--their friends and families, the media, and his fans--ever since they "went public" a couple of years back. Who wouldn't be interested? She was a nobody, catapulted into the limelight of his fame when he struck an unusual friendship with her.
To both Caitlin and Marcus, what they have is a "perfect little thing." But then something comes along and threatens it.
In a no-holds-barred interview, will they finally be forced to settle the score?
I shook my head, my eyes landing on his naked chest. Well, nearly, if you didn’t consider the number of tattoos across his skin, which included the name of his mom and sister on his shoulder blades, a Cheshire cat, a line from Coldplay’s Fix You, among others. But there was a new one, right below the Fix You line, which was above his heart.
“Did you get a new tattoo?”
Marcus sat up, Indian-sitting on the bed. I folded my legs under me, following his suit, as I leaned closer to him. I placed my fingers tentatively on his chest, hearing his breath catch in his throat. I felt his eyes on me intently, as I figured out the new addition to his body art collection.
It was a small lock, with a tiny, tiny question mark next to it.
“I’m still looking for that someone who has the key,” Marcus whispered, his voice low and gruff. “Someone who understands me, who can figure me out, and love me despite everything.”
I tilted my head back and our eyes met, and I had to swallow the lump in my throat. His gaze was intense, making me feel like I can combust any moment with just one spark from his fiery gaze.
“Ah,” was all I could manage to say, not trusting my voice. He shrugged, and he fell back onto the bed. I watched him as he looked so peaceful, as if he truly is in a happy place. He cocked his head a bit as an invitation, and I fell next to him, our hands between us, inches away from each other. I felt the heat radiating from his fingers, and there was something else—
His fingers closed over mine, and I stared at the ceiling, letting out a slow, shaky breath, my heartbeat was ringing loudly in my ears.
Jesus, Marcus, what are you doing to me?
I glanced at him, and I caught him staring at me, emotions in his eyes unreadable.
“Happy place,” I heard him whisper, and I didn’t have the energy or courage to say it, but yes, Marcus, we are each other’s happy place.a Rafflecopter giveaway
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