Page 94 of Bluffed By the Offense

“Okay. One arm.”

“Only one,” he promises. “I’ve got you, Cass.”

I sink into him. Not him, him. Just the feel of the safety and protection he’s giving me right now. He tightens the arm that’s still wrapped around me and calls Trey with his free hand.

He puts the call on speaker.

“What’s up, Cold Turkey?” Trey asks right when the phone rings.

“We’ve got a little situation …” Marcus says.

He goes on to describe how we got shut in the seatrain. Treyvon cracks up.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Hold tight.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Always, brother. You know that.”

“I do. Same back at you.”

They hang up and Marcus holds his phone out to shine it around the space.

“Let’s go sit over there.” He aims the light at an open spot along the wall.

“No,” I say, even though I know it sounds ridiculous.

“Cass, I’m not taking my hands off you. I’ll guide you there. You can lean back into me and we’ll just wait till Trey gets here. Or, we can just stand here if that’s what you want.”

“Okay,” I say. “Don’t take your hands off me.”

He laughs. “I knew there’d come a day you’d be saying that.”

“You’re not funny.”

“Oh, but you said I was.”

“I changed my mind.”

Before I know it, we’ve reached the wall. Marcus kept his word and kept his hands on my upper arms while the light of the phone illuminated the floor of the storage container our whole way over here.

He turns, keeping his hands on me, and then he settles against the wall, guiding me down between his legs with my back to his chest. When I’m seated, he wraps his arms around me and nestles me against him so I’m in a Marcus Delaney cocoon.

“Did you ever imagine you’d be locked in a seatrain being swaddled by an NFL quarterback?” he asks me.

“Not in a million years,” I say. “Did you ever imagine you’d be wrapping yourself around the local charity coordinator to keep her from having a panic attack?”

“Not remotely,” he says softly. “I’m guessing we need better imaginations at this point.”

I lean back into him. “Am I squishing you?”

“You have to try a little harder to squish me,” he says.

My heartbeat starts to pick up a little. “I hate this,” I tell him.

“It’s not the best first date I ever pulled off, that’s for sure.”

“Tell me your best one?”