Page 21 of Calculated Risk
I sit there in silence for a moment, thinking about her question. "I don't need help. I'm fine."
"Liar. You're stressed about your thesis. About Legacy Council expectations. About whatever your family wants from you that you're not talking about." She takes my hand. "I see you, Marcus. Not the perfect problem-solver everyone else sees. The real you, under all that control."
"The real me is boring."
"The real you is scared of being vulnerable. Of not having all the answers. Of letting people see you struggle." She squeezes my hand. "But you don't have to be perfect with me. You can be messy and confused and wrong. I'll love you anyway."
I freeze. "You'll what?"
She realizes what she said. "I mean…I didn't mean to…that came out wrong?—"
"Say it again."
"Marcus—"
"Please. Say it again."
"I love you." Her voice is quiet but certain. "I've been falling for you all week. Maybe longer. Maybe since freshman year when you looked at my painting and tried to find words for feelings. I love you. The organized you, the helpful you, the secretly messy you that you try to hide. All of it."
I should be panicking. Should be calculating the risks of saying this back. Of admitting feelings I can't control.
Instead, I kiss her. Hard and desperate and honest.
"I love you too," I say against her lips. "Even though you're chaos and disorder and everything I thought I didn't want. I love you."
"Even though I'm impulsive and emotional?"
"Especially because of that. You make me feel things I've spent my whole life trying to avoid and it's terrifying. And I don't want it to stop."
I’m thinning something here sexy wise
For the first time in my life, I'm not planning the next move.
I'm just existing in the moment.
And it's perfect.
Chapter 8
Lilah
Tuesday morning,Marcus's tech friends crack the security footage.
We're in his dorm when he gets the call. I watch his expression change from neutral to satisfied.
"You're sure?" He listens intently. "Perfect. Send me everything and invoice the Legacy Council for your services."
He hangs up and turns to me with a smile that's almost predatory.
"We got her."
"Chelsea?"
"Clear footage of her entering the gallery at 11:47 PM. Leaving at 1:23 AM. Carrying a bag of tools. It's irrefutable."
"Oh my god." I sit down hard on his bed. "We actually got her."
"I'm taking this to campus security today. They'll open an investigation. She'll face disciplinary action, possibly criminal charges." He sits next to me. "Your show is safe. Even if we don't finish all the pieces, the university will make accommodations given the circumstances."
