Shattered

Chapter 18 Bradley

"You can shed the past. You can't shake it, but you can certainly get new skin. You can grow old and become stronger." Lesra Martin

Bradley slowly walked around Mark's bedroom while he showered. After they left Emma's house, Mark took Bradley to lunch. They ate sandwiches at Jersey Mike's, nothing fancy, but it had all the significance in the world. They were in public, together, just the two of them. Mark convinced Bradley to get double cheese on her sandwich. He was right, the extra provolone made the sandwich even more delicious.

Mark's room was immaculate and free of family pictures and clutter. The floor was free of clothing, shoes and pillows, items that would normally be covering a teenage boys' floor. Three posters covered the walls: Def Leppard, Dave Matthews Band and a Chase Rice Album cover. The black wooden dresser was empty, except for his set of keys, resting on the right side, next to the bedroom door. There was a MacBook Pro, closed, in the middle of his desk. Other than a lamp, the desk was just as neat and clean of all other materials just like the dresser.

There was a matching bookshelf, home to some sports memorabilia. Bradley picked up the autographed baseball and tried to make out the signature above the number thirty-five. She carefully set the ball in its resting place. Every surface was clean, not an ounce of dust anywhere. A baseball glove rested on the bottom shelf, and Bradley wondered if Mark played baseball. She really didn't know that much about him and learning about his sister's murder had proved that this morning. It was clear that Mark was a mystery and yet she was completely in love with him.

Bradley kicked her flip-flops on the wooden floor and traced the side of his navy comforter before sprawling across his bed. She turned towards his nightstand and picked up the book with a Library sticker on the front. The Red Badge of Courage, she smiled and set it back down next to his alarm clock.

"Summer reading," Mark commented walking into his bedroom. He was towel drying his hair and Bradley's heart stopped as she admired his shirtless body. It was the second time she saw his skin, tanned and chiseled. There wasn't an ounce of flabby skin on his sculpted body. His jeans hung from his waist, the band of his boxers peeking out from the top. She watched in admiration as he made his way to the closet across the room and thumbed through the hangers for a shirt. "Hey, which one?" he asked holding up a white Lacoste polo in one hand and a short sleeve button down plaid shirt in greens and blues.

"Umm...wear whatever you'll feel more comfortable in."

He set the both hangers on the desk and walked back in looking for something else. "I'm used to wearing black t-shirts. They're good for stalking," he chuckled.

"Ha," Bradley rolled her eyes. "Then wear the white one," she suggested. "I've only seen you in black, navy and dark gray."

He leaned against the doorframe gazing at her with his steel blue eyes. Bradley noticed the definition of his arm muscles. She wanted so badly to touch every inch of his body. "What do you think it's going to be like?"

"Dinner with my parents?" disappointed that her fantasy was interrupted by his thoughts of her parents. "I mean...you don't have to..."

"Yes, I do, I'm sleeping with their daughter." Bradley's face flushed, the heat stinging her skin. "Not like that," he grinned. "They're trusting me to sleep in your room, just sleep."

Bradley rolled on her back and stared at the ceiling blades quietly circling. "Don't you find me attractive?" she muttered.

"How can you even ask me that? Come on Bradley, you're the prettiest girl that ever lived."

She remained unconvinced. "I...you're half naked and I'm on your bed..."

Mark didn't skip a beat; he was on top of her before she could finish, holding his weight up by his elbows. His soft lips covered her mouth, his tongue swirling around hers. Bradley pulled his head down closer, tighter, deeper. She raised her hips up to meet his and Mark suddenly rolled off her.