Truly, Madly, Like Me - Jo Watson Page 0,127

forced.

I sat up fully in bed now and looked him in the eye. “You forget, I kissed you before I knew who you were. This . . .” I indicated the bed, “has nothing to do with who you were. Sure, I was a total groupie and I was insanely in lurrrrve with you when I was fourteen. And I probably fantasized about this moment right here a million times”—I blushed now just thinking about it—“but what happened last night has nothing to do with you being a part of a famous and totally hot boy band who I happened to be obsessed with once upon a time and have tattooed on my lower back.”

I leaned in and kissed him, and he kissed me back, chuckling against my mouth.

“I hope not,” he said, pulling away. “Most of my other relationships had something to do with that.”

“I think I understand that. My last relationship was directly related to how many followers I had, and then didn’t have.”

“I hate your ex, by the way!” Mark said and I smiled.

“Thanks,” I replied with an even bigger smile.

Mark paused. “Are you sure you’re over him though?”

I thought about this for a while and, to be honest, Kyle breaking up with me seemed to have been the last thing on my mind this past week and a bit. I’d almost forgotten about it, and it made me wonder just how into him I really had been.

“I think with us, if I look back, our relationship was more of a business arrangement. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it was. It wasn’t built on us, it was built on what we could give others. So yes, I’m over him,” I said with a smile. “So, truly, madly, over him.”

“Good.” Mark kissed me. Long and slow and sexy. Threading his fingers through my hair and pushing me back down onto the bed. “Because I have a confession to make,” he whispered against my mouth.

“What?” I asked.

“I kind of truly, madly, like you.”

“You do?”

He stopped kissing me and pulled away again. “And when I say ‘like you’ I mean that in the real-life sense. No double-tapping, swiping-right stuff. Real like. In real life.”

“Real life like.”

“Exactly.”

“I like you too,” I said, pulling him back down and kissing him hard and fast now—I needed him. But then—

“HARUN!” I pushed him away as he came climbing onto the bed and pushed his way between us.

“Can I call him Satan’s Little Helper now?” I asked Mark as he rolled around between us with his belly in the air, pushing us further and further apart.

Mark laughed. “You know you landed up with a lunatic dog, right?”

I looked down at Harun. Tongue out of mouth. One eye. Snaggle-tooth from hell. And then I reached down and scratched his belly. “Totally,” I said, as he wiggled back and forth, scratching his back on the duvet.

An alarm clock beeped next to the bed and I looked at it. “I’ve got to get ready for work.”

“Me too,” Mark said, climbing out of the bed totally naked. God, he was yummy.

“You know,” I said, thinking about it, “this is the first real job I’ve had in years.”

“And how does it feel?”

“Good!” I nodded. “It feels good to actually be a part of something real, you know?”

Mark smiled. “I do know what you mean. Real life is actually more than it’s cracked up to be.”

“I guess it is.” I smiled to myself, because I was feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. And it wasn’t just because of Mark. It was also because of Samirah and Harun and my new job and new place in this town. I hadn’t felt this connected in years, and ironically, it was the most disconnected I’d ever been.

CHAPTER 64

“You look happy this morning,” Samirah said. She’d been eyeing me suspiciously since I’d arrived.

I shrugged. Trying to act as casual as possible. But Samirah always seemed to have a knack for things like this.

“Not particularly,” I finally said, trying to brush it off.

“Dottie’s high-as-a-kite catnip cat has just vomited half a dead mouse on your shoe and you’re still smiling from ear to ear like the Cheshire Cat!”

At that, I couldn’t help but smile even more. But then I tried to hide my smile, something I shouldn’t have attempted, because her eyes widened when I did.

She slid up to me suspiciously. “Is it Zack?” she asked.

“Zack! Wh . . . No! No. Not him.”

“But everyone saw you on a date with him last night.”

“What? How?”

“Small