Ain't Nobody Like You

Chapter Twenty-Three

Marshall walks into the backroom, with Denaun in tow, laughing. I stand, unable to sit while I waited, arms crossed and glaring. I've been working myself up alone for awhile now- and Marshall is about to get an earful. 

When Denaun sees my face, he glances between Marshall and I, "Ah, shit dawg. I'm gonna...I'mma uh, uh...I'm gonna be anywhere but here right now." and makes a quick exit, closing the door behind him. I can hear him through the door, telling someone not to go in 'cause shit's goin' down.'

Unfazed, Marshall walks pass me to the small fridge, wiping away the sweat on his face with a towel and still breathing heavy from his time on stage.

"You wanna drink or somethin'?"Marshall asks, rummaging through all the beers to grab himself a water bottle.

"What was that?" I ask, ignoring his question to ask my own, "Why did you kiss me? What were you thinking?"

"I was thinkin'-" he pauses, taking a sip of his drink like he has all the time in the world to answer me, "you look hot and...I dunno, I just felt like it." 

"'You just felt like it.'" I repeat, in disbelief. In annoyance even. I wish I could do whatever reckless thing I wanted, just because I 'felt like it'. But I can't. 

"What're you so mad for? Would you rather me of kissed someone else?" he smirks, knowing the answer.

"No!" I shake my head, distressed, "I mean, I don't...I- ugh, that's not the point Marshall. You kissed me. On stage! And now people are gonna think things about us now. That we're together or something, or that I'm-"

"Why the fuck do you care so much 'bout what other people think?" he questions, walking towards me.

I suddenly can hear knocking at the door, but I ignore it. 

"I don't." And it's true. While I'm not looking forward to dealing with the repercussions of his recklessness from the media- it will be insane- I don't actually care what they have to say. And while I did like the kiss- a lot- it shouldn't have happened that way. At all, I correct myself. "We just...we can't do that."

"Fine, I won't kiss you on stage no more." Closing the distance between us, his voice low as he teases with a smile, "Behind closed doors only. Promise."

How does he do this? I was mad at him, had a whole argument ready to go. And now I've lost my train of thought as his eyes move down to my lips, the same ones that are still tingling from our kiss minutes prior. My eyes flicker to his own- parted, his warm breath against my cheek. If he leans down slightly- or I up- they'd reconnect.

Three more knocks come from the door, this time louder, clearing my head. Marshall responds this time, distracted, "Hold up!"  

"I- we..." I attempt. Why can't we again? Oh yeah. "We're friends Marshall- just friends.

"We can kiss and still be friends, right?" He smirks.

I don't find it funny though. I don't want friends with benefits. That's not me. 

I cross my arms, "No. We can't."

"Come on baby, I'm joking." He smiles, slipping a hand around my waist as he pulls me close. I don't resist, "Look...I kissed you on stage 'cause I've been wantin' to all fuckin' day and couldn't wait another second, a'ight?...I wanna be with you. And you do too, I know it."

Is this really happening?

His declaration catches me off guard, leaving me speechless. But before he can make the next move I place my hand on his chest to stop him. I can feel Marshall's heart racing under my hand, the same as my own.