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to open the drawer beside me. The clean soap smell mixed with coffee and something else that reminded me of warm summer days met my nose. I fought the urge to grab his shirt and take a deeper whiff. He'd think I was crazy. I'd always thought the way Cage smelled when he came home from celebrating a victory game was the best smell in the world. But Cage's sweat, beer, and cigarettes couldn't compete with clean Marcus Hardy.

Okay, I needed to go.

"Um, okay, I gotta run. Thanks again and I'll take you up on breakfast another time. I've got to get to my sister's place before she comes over here with my niece in tow." Marcus glanced up and a small frown puckered his brow.

He seemed concerned. If the guy only knew this was the least of my problems. I wondered what he would think if he knew I actually had nowhere to live. My sister's couch and Cage's bed were the only options I had for now. Somehow I knew he'd want to fix that and it warmed me. Shaking my head from my illusions of Marcus, I stepped around him and his yummy goodness then headed for the door.

"You gonna be okay?" He called as my hand touched the handle. A smile tugged at my lips. I was right. He did care.

But then guys like Marcus wanted to save the world.

"Yep," I replied glancing back over my shoulder to flash him a smile before stepping outside and heading to my reality.

"Where the HELL have you been? No wait don't tell me.

You've been in Cage York's bed again. You know you have no right judging me when you go sleeping with that male whore."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming. My sister was so uninvolved in my life she didn't have a clue how off track she was. Yes, Cage was probably considered a male whore but he did pick really hot sexy females to screw around with. He had pretty high standards. Which never ceased to amuse me that people thought I was one of his many conquests. I didn't fit the profile, at all. For starters he kept me around. He never kept a girl around after he slept with her. Second, I wasn't nearly tall enough, I was red headed, and my hips were too big, and my chest too real. Cage had a thing for fake boobs. Strange but true.

Anyway, my sister was the walking persona of the kind of girl Cage went after. Granted she had red hair too, but hers was naturally curly and she was tall and thin. Red hair looked better on her than it did me. She made red sexy.

Me, not so much.

"I'm here now. Just go and stop cursing and yelling in front of Larissa. It took me an entire week to get her to stop saying s-h-i-t when she dropped things" If I wasn't so worried about the fact it might become a permanent word in her vocabulary I would've found it funny.

She would sit in her high chair and drop one cheerio at a time. Each time one bounced on the cracked linoleum she'd yell "SHIT" and clap her hands and do it again. This was all thanks to my lovely sister yelling "shit" every time Larissa dropped her food onto the floor. So, my niece had decided to make a game of it.

"Whatever, it was funny. I gotta go. Call Janet Hall, the lady with the sponge roll ers always in her yellow hair that lives three houses down and ask her if she can watch Larissa tomorrow. You've got class tomorrow, right." I nodded, "Yes."

I hated leaving Larissa with the cat lady. She'd come home with several scratches from the thousands of cats in that house last time she stayed there, not to mention the place smelled like cat poo. But I couldn't miss a class or make less than a B in any of my courses or I'd lose my scholarship. I needed that scholarship. Faulkner was a junior college and that was all the college I would get. Once my scholarship was up I wouldn't be furthering my education. Unless I could manage a student loan and considering I didn't even have a home that seemed unlikely.

"Okay, I'm gone. Don't call my cell while I'm at work. If you have any problems just figure them out." And she was gone. No kiss goodbye to Larissa. I hated her