A Marcus Bontempelli Story
Catie O'Sullivan, a famous musician running away from her seemingly wonderful life unexpectedly meets her match when she's introduced to a familiar stranger in Marcus Bontempelli, superstar of the Western Bulldogs.
Will s...
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"Just come walk the dogs with me and you'll feel a lot better," Marcus groaned as he grasped my wrists and tried to pull me out my metaphorical dark hole and into the outside world.
In retaliation, I let my dead weight takeover as I sank further into the duvet, making his attempts of yanking me from our bed nearly impossible. The headlines about Connor and I being secret lovers and reckless drug addicts hadn't eased up but thankfully the football club cleared Tom, JJ and Lachie for round 1, with the caveat of a strict probation. It was a huge relief that they were available for selection but once the club made the announcement that they would be playing to the public, social media lit up with more hate than I had ever seen and the frenzy began again for the boys. And for Marcus.
As for Connor and I, we were also given a warning by our record label and management and a stern scolding to do better. We had been so close to losing it all and I made sure that they knew that we wouldn't put them in this position again. Connor even insisted that he would put himself in some kind of rehab program to prove to them and the rest of the band that he wanted to get better and I couldn't have been more proud of him.
"I bet you there's a photographer out in Loretta's bush waiting for me to leave the house," I replied with a pout as Marcus chuckled and shook his head.
"Don't really feel like thinking about our neighbours' bush this early on a Tuesday morning..." He joked, causing my eyes to roll at the immature places his beautiful mind would go.
"You're disgusting," I tutted as Marcus dropped my hands and sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh, the smirk lining his face softening as he looked into my tired eyes.
"And you're being paranoid. There hasn't been anyone out there the last couple of days and if there is, who gives a fuck. Everyone with half a brain knows that you're innocent even if they wanna keep peddlin' that bullshit for clicks," He stated in hopes of convincing me to leave the house for the first time in a week.
I sighed and sat up beside him on the bed, pulling down my black crop top and resting my head on his shoulder. Marcus was the kind of person who could talk someone off the edge of a building or could've been a mediator of sorts in another life because he knew exactly what to say and what I needed to hear to agree that he knew what was best for me.
I also knew deep down that hiding forever wasn't an option and even if I could, it wasn't going to change how people felt about me. Things have been worse and I'd managed to pull through it, I thought and the biggest difference now was that I had him. My better half.
"You are very convincing, Bontempelli and you're right as always..." I trailed off as Marcus stood up from the bed and strolled over to the walk-in closet.
"I know," He winked before grabbing out a pair of my sneakers and throwing a fresh bundle of socks my way, "Meet you downstairs in 5."
It was a gorgeous morning all things considered. It was early March and the cool, autumn breeze ushered away the last remaining remnants of summer and brought with it the smell of fresh season. There were several people wandering the quiet streets of Kew, some walking dogs and others jogging with earbuds pumping away in their ears. The odd smile was thrown our way and a few people even stopped to swoon over how beautiful our dogs were as Marcus and I strolled along the concrete footpaths, hand in hand.
