Page 8 of Embraced in Ink

If she actually wanted this, she would have mentioned it. She hadn’t, and that meant that they were likely going to ignore it, forget it ever happened. The bet wouldn’t matter.

Only, it really did. Because she was his best friend, and even though she had constantly been out of the States and out of the country doing things that she loved, she’d always come back to him.

No matter what separated them, they always came back to each other.

He didn’t want to ruin what they had. He couldn’t. Only, what if he did?

“Okay, what is up with your face?” Andie asked, and Marcus scowled.

“What’s up withyourface?”

“Hey, that’s my wife,” Chris said, and Marcus smiled, though he knew it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m fine, okay? Just tired.” That might be the case, mostly because he wasn’t sleeping, thanks to Bristol, but it was fine. Everything was going to befine.

“We love you, so if thereisanything wrong, you need to tell us,” his mother said.

“I know that. You guys are great.” And that was the understatement of a lifetime.

“And you can’t let the Montgomerys adopt you,” his father said, his eyes dancing with laughter.

“Although, if they want to adopt all of us, that’s okay with us,” Vanessa said, grinning.

“Can I be adopted, too?” his mother asked.

“You already know you guys are all honorary Montgomerys, right?” Marcus asked, and the others snorted. “Really? You are. It’s sort of a cult situation.”

“Did you just call my family a cult?” Bristol asked as she walked forward. Marcus swallowed hard and tried not to think about all the bad things he’d been thinking about recently. Or the dream he’d had the night before. Of Bristol, his fist wrapped around those long, honey-brown locks of hair as he—nope, he wasn’t going to think about that.

He did not have sex dreams about his best friend. There were lines, and he did not cross them.

Yet.

“We totally didn’t call the Montgomerys a cult,” Andie said, pausing for dramatic effect. “But we totally did call you guys a cult,” she said primly.

Bristol threw her head back and laughed, a soft, tinkling sound, and she shook her head. She had on long, fancy earrings that he was pretty sure had diamonds in them that shone under the light between the strands of her hair. She had it down tonight, with long waves, and wore a sparkly dress with silver high heels. She looked gorgeous, like a damn princess. And considering that she had played her cello in front of princesses, he could quantifiably make that comparison.

“Yeah, sometimes the Montgomerys feel a little cult-like. But you are one of us.” She paused and then grinned. “One of us.”

The others laughed, and Marcus smiled, trying to act like everything was natural. Why was this so hard? It shouldn’t be. This woman was his best friend—had been forever. Most people would look at them and think they were more than best friends, but they could go fuck themselves. Strangers always thought they were fucking or using each other. But they didn’t know Bristol and him. They were always there for each other, and always would be. Even if they accidentally got engaged. Only they weren’t going to do that. It wasn’t going to happen. It was only a bad bet, likehewas a bad bet. Not that he actually thought that about himself, but he knew he would be for Bristol. Because she deserved the world, and he was a hometown boy. And he was just fine with that.

“Happy birthday,” his mother said, holding Bristol close. Bristol wrapped her arms around his mother and held on tight before hugging the rest of his family, one by one.

“So, how does it feel to be thirty?” Andie asked. “You’re no longer a baby. You’re now old. Middle-aged.” Andie flung her hair back as their mother glowered.

“The next person that mentions anybody in their thirties being old is going to get slapped upside the head. I don’t flog, mind you, but seriously, I’ll do it.”

Everybody backed away, still laughing.

“We’re not old, we’re no longer babies,” Marcus said, holding out his arm. He did it instinctively, and Bristol slid against his side, holding him close in return. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. She felt good, as if she had been there for their entire lives. Even though he had shot up to his height faster, and she had caught up a little, she was still so tiny compared to him.

He didn’t know why he kept thinking about things like that. Like how she would feel against him. Because this was simply platonic. Only friendship.

He was delusional.

“Hey there,” she said under her breath. He looked at her and let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Hey there, birthday girl.”