“Is there any chance you’d want to stay?”
I gripped the handle of the door. “Stay?” I said softly without turning.
“Stay,” he urged again.
“You have a show later, Marcus. Shouldn’t you be sleeping by now?”
Marcus shrugged. “I couldn’t even if I tried. I’m too…wired.”
I smirked. “Tea is supposed to relax you, not make you jumpy,” I commented, and he wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think it’s the tea.”
Marcus fixed me a stare. “It’s you.”
“Ha,” I said, shaking my head, struggling to hide my smile.
“I’ll get us room service.”
“You’re bribing me with food. After I had a buffet. Are you kidding me?”
He opened his hands in front of him. “I was hoping the company was enough.”
A tiny, very unsure voice in my head said: Be spontaneous?
And despite the louder voice screaming “no,” I relented, sighing and flopping back down on the couch. “Fine.”
From: The Real Score by Kesh Tanglao
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