Page 85 of Try Me
“Uhhhh.” He gave me a confused look, then pointed a spatula toward the hallway. “I think he’s asleep, though. Why—”
“We work together. The law firm? And he’s fucking late. No time.” I rushed down the hallway and through the first door.
It was dark as midnight and cold as balls in Mark’s room. When I flipped on the light switch, he groaned out a curse and rolled onto his stomach, pulling the pillow over his head like a cave creature allergic to light. “I’m sleeping. Go the fuck away.”
Crossing to his closet, I yanked open the doors and rifled through the hangers, snagging suit pants, a jacket, and a shirt. “Where are your goddamn ties?”
“Jesus, Pynchon, I said I’m not going.”
I dropped the clothes on his desk and whipped around. Mark had rolled onto his back. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, then tugged the covers over his bare chest like a shield as I fixed him with my best penetrating stare. I knew I was good at them. “You’re going.”
He let out a mirthless chuckle. “I’m not. We can do this all morning—because you know I can wait you out—or you can get your ass back to the firm in time to do the trial.”
“I’m not going without you. So either you show up with me, or we’re both no-shows.”
He hissed out a curse. “What the fuck does it matter? I’m going to get the slot next summer regardless. I didn’t even earn my position there. My father greased palms. It’s bullshit.”
“I know, dipshit.”
He blinked. “You do?”
“Yeah, Lena told me. Well, she didn’t say it in so many words, but she implied it. Over a month ago. So get up.”
“If I don’t show and you handle the trial, seems like it’d be harder to justify giving it to me, though,” he reasoned petulantly.
I shook my head. “You’re better than that. Don’t be that guy. I’ve never once asked you to martyr yourself for me. I’ve neverwantedyou to martyr yourself for me.”
“It’s not just you. It’s the whole thing. I don’t want shit I haven’t earned.” He closed his eyes, then opened them again resolutely. “I’m not going.”
I strode to the edge of the bed and yanked the covers off him. It took effort to keep my focus on his eyes, not to let my gaze skip down to the mouth I’d kissed so recently, the tight curves of his body I’d gripped as he’d fucked me. The pang of missing him shook me to my core. Ninety percent of me wanted to flip off the light, close the door, crawl into bed with him, and never come out.
The other 10 percent was mad as hell.
“You said you didn’t earn your place, but you’ve been earning it all summer. You had an advantage. So what? It happens all the time in life. So finish the fucking job. Be worthy of the fucking win.” I yanked open a bureau drawer and found socks and boxers, but no ties. “You remember that game you played against Holly High? Everyone and their brother knew they didn’t stand a chance. I almost didn’t come watch because I expected it to be a slaughterhouse, figured y’all would come at it half-assed and it’d be boring.”
“You were at that game?”
I felt Mark’s gaze on my back as I opened the rest of the drawers, then closed them fruitlessly. “And more that you never knew about. You were good. Fun to watch. I told myself I was there to study the competition. But I was there to watch you.” I closed the last drawer and twisted around. Mark’s expression crumpled, but I barreled on before I could get sucked into the morose undertow of his eyes. “Point is, you weren’t half-assing it then either. Half your teammates were. But not you. And the other team did the best they could. It was actually close for a while, remember? Then you guys cranked the heat all the way up. You earned that one. You earned every game you won because you never took it for granted. Don’t start now.”
Mark sighed. “You were always better than me.”
“Yeah, I was. And this is just a different game. You have the home team advantage, this time. We both know that.” I grabbed the suit and tossed it over his legs. Fuck the tie. “But I won’t go down without a fight either. So get the fuck up and earn it.”
Mark crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me, eyes narrowed and hard. As the silence stretched, I heard the same countdown clock in my head that I used to hear when I was running down the court, seconds to make the basket or be overtaken.Tick tick tick. The idea of walking away alone was just as depressing as it’d been when I’d watched Mark do it the other night.
Then he kicked his legs over the side of the bed, eyes blazing, and started to pull on his suit. “Ties are on the hanger on the far-left side.”
I returned to the closet, found the hanger, and burrowed through the ties, skimming over tasteful stripes, his usual paisleys, and a few plain-colored ones until I came upon the most obnoxious one I could find—a nightmare floral in pinks, purples, and greens. I lobbed it toward Mark, and as he held it up, a tiny smile quirked my lips for the fierce obstinacy in his eyes.
“Yeah?” he asked dubiously.
“My eyeballs haven’t been singed lately. Besides, I’ve decided they’re some kind of lucky talisman.” Jesus, I needed to get out of there before I mauled him. “You’ve got twenty-five minutes, you gonna make it?”
“It’ll take me five to shower. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“Good.” I started for the door and then turned back. “You’ll really be there?”
He met my eyes. “I’ll be there.”