Chapter Thirty-Six: Confession
1354 Words
Marcus's POV
I don’t move as Anna tells Ben goodbye.
I stand there with my hands shoved into my jacket pockets, jaw tight, watching the way she speaks to him—soft but firm, kind without being intimate. Still, the sight of it sets something feral pacing behind my ribs. Ben nods, says something I can’t hear, then steps back. Oscar’s already halfway down the sidewalk, shoulders stiff.
Ben glances at me once before he turns away.
I don’t blink.
When they disappear past the corner, Anna pivots toward me.
And she looks mad.
Not explosive-mad. Not shouting—mad. It’s worse than that—quiet, sharp, eyes flashing in a way that makes my stomach drop straight through the pavement.
My heart starts hammering.
Here it comes, I think. I deserve this.
She takes a step closer. Then another. Her brows are drawn together, lips pressed into a thin line, and I’m already bracing myself for the lecture, the disappointment, the look that says I didn’t think you’d be this guy.
But then—right when I’m about to speak—her mouth twitches.
The anger melts.
And in its place is a cheeky, infuriating little smile.
“Oh,” she says lightly. “There it is.”
I blink. “There what is?”
“That face,” she replies. “The one you make when you realize you might’ve messed up but you’re hoping charm will save you.”
Despite myself, my lips tug upward. “It works sometimes.”
She snorts, then closes the distance between us. Before I can react, she takes both my hands in hers and lifts them into the glow of the porch lights.
“What are you—”
“Hold still,” she says.
Her fingers are warm, gentle as she turns my hands palm-up, inspecting my knuckles, my wrists. She traces a faint red mark near my thumb, her touch feather-light.
“You’re going to bruise,” she murmurs.
“I’m fine.”
She shoots me a look. “You would say that.”
I watch her like I can’t help myself—the crease between her brows, the way her thumb lingers just a second longer than necessary over my skin. The anger I thought I saw earlier has softened into concern, and something in my chest loosens.
“You didn’t even ask,” she says, quieter now. “You just… acted.”
I exhale through my nose. “Yeah.”
“That’s not okay,” she adds, though there’s no bite in it. Just honesty.
“I know.”
She lowers my hands but doesn’t let go of them. “You scared them.”
“I didn’t mean to—” I stop, because that’s a lie. I did mean to. Just not like that.
She tilts her head, studying me. “Why?”
There it is. The question I can’t dodge.
I glance past her shoulder, where Peter is herding Damian away from the house, Courtney trailing behind them, still talking animatedly. Then I look back at Anna.
“Because,” I say slowly, “I saw another guy with his arms around you, and my brain shut off.”
Her lips curve. “Ah.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” she replies. “Go on.”
I hesitate, then sigh. “I was jealous.”
The word feels exposed, raw, but also… relieving.
“I didn’t like it,” I continue. “Didn’t like how close he was. Didn’t like that I didn’t know who he was. And yeah—” I give a crooked smile “—I didn’t handle it well.”
She hums thoughtfully. “You think?”
“I know,” I say quickly. “I screwed up.”
She steps even closer now, her hands sliding up my forearms. “You were very overprotective.”
“I’m aware.”
Her eyes sparkle. “Borderline caveman, actually.”
I groan. “Please don’t—”
“But,” she adds, squeezing my arms lightly, “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t kind of attractive.”
My breath stutters. “Anna.”
She grins, unapologetic. “I didn’t say it was right. I said it was attractive.”
I shake my head, a laugh slipping out before I could stop it. “You’re impossible.”
“And you,” she says sweetly, “are dramatic.”
She sobers a little then. “Ben and Oscar aren’t threats, Marcus. They’re visiting. Old friends. That’s it.”
I nod, absorbing that. “He likes art history.”
Her eyebrows lift. “You noticed that?”
“I notice things,” I mutter.
She laughs softly. “Ben and I bond over museums and dead artists. That’s as exciting as it gets.”
I met her eyes. “He looks at you like he wants more.”
She doesn’t deny it outright. Instead, she says, “Even if that were true—which I’m not saying it is—it wouldn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
Because I need to hear it.
She reaches up, cups my jaw, forcing me to look at her fully. “Because I’m with you.”
The world narrows.
“I choose you,” she continues. “Every day. You don’t need to fight anyone for that.”
Something tight and aching in my chest finally gives.
“I don’t just like you, Anna,” I say, the words tumbling out before I could overthink them. “I care about you. A lot. More than I probably should this early on.”
Her thumb brushes my cheek. “There’s no ‘should’ with feelings.”
“I think about you all the time,” I admit. “When I’m on the ice, when I’m not. You get under my skin in the best way, and yeah—I get jealous, because the idea of losing you makes me feel like I can’t breathe.”
Her expression softens completely now.
“I don’t want to be that guy,” I add quietly. “The one who reacts instead of trusts. But I need you to know—it’s not about control. It’s about… how much you matter to me.”
For a long moment, she just looks at me.
Then she smiles—not cheeky this time. Warm. Steady.
“Thank you for telling me,” she says. “And for the record? I kind of like how much you care. Just… try using words first next time.”
I nod. “Deal.”
She leans in, resting her forehead against mine. “You’re an idiot.”
“Your i***t?”
She laughs. “We’ll discuss that later.”
“Hey!”
Peter’s voice cuts through the moment.
We both turn.
Peter is pointing toward the porch, eyes wide with barely contained amusement. “Uh. Guys? You might want to see this.”
My gaze follows his finger.
Courtney has Damian backed up against the railing, one hand fisted in his jacket, the other cradling his jaw. Damian looks stunned—and then very much not—as she kisses him like she’s been waiting all night to do it.
“Well,” Anna says faintly.
I blink. “Is that—”
“Yes,” Peter confirms. “That is our brother. Finally, letting the hormones have their way! Go D!”
Damian’s hands slid to Courtney’s waist.
Anna bursts out laughing, the sound bright and surprised. “I leave her alone for five minutes.”
I shake my head, stunned and impressed all at once. “I really need to stop underestimating my brother.”
Anna slips her hand into mine, squeezing. “Tonight’s been… eventful.”
“That’s one word for it.”
She glances up at me, eyes shining. “Still jealous?”
I smirk. “Only of Damian right now.”
She laughs again, leaning to my side.
And for the first time since I saw Ben’s arms around her, my chest felt calm.
Grounded.
Because she’s here.
With me.
- Writer
