Chapter 8: Confessions on the Line

Maybe he really did care.

Marcus didn’t hang up the whole drive.

"Feeling bad? Why aren’t you talking?"

I hesitated, then squeaked out, "Watch the road."

"Talking to you is important too."

I froze, a ripple moving through me.

My heart pounded. I pulled the blanket up, hoping he couldn’t hear it.

Silence. Memories rolled through my head.

I was one of the company’s first hires.

But after all these years, I’d never seen Marcus bring a girl around—not once.

He’s gentle, hot, built like an action figure—how was he still single?

"Marcus, have you ever been in a relationship?"

"No."

"Seriously? Not even a college romance?"

"Nope."

"Oh, I don’t believe that."

Marcus laughed. "What are you really trying to ask?"

"Nothing. Where’s your hometown? Is it far?"

"Checking my birth certificate? It’s right here. Want to go see?"

Are we really that close?

I poked my head out and sneezed. Burrowed back under the covers. "Marcus, you’re acting weird today."

"Am I?"

His tone was lighter now, like he was in a good mood. Just a little while ago, he was full of sarcasm.

A man’s heart is like a black box.

The blanket cocooned me, and I got sleepy.

"How much longer? Why so slow…"

"Just don’t come, I’m too lazy to open the door."

He laughed. "Then I’ll hurry."

Maybe because I was sick, I started rambling:

"When you asked if I took medicine, I replied, but you blocked me. So I got mad and attacked you. I’m not usually like this. Honestly, you’re a good boss…"

Sunlight striped my comforter. I could almost see his smile in my mind—the rare one that made the whole office stop and stare.