Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
How it Started
Mark hid in a corner, trying to seem invisible for once in his life. Despite all his efforts to seem like a creepy lurker, a few women began to make eyes at him. He smiled, but now it took too much effort to pretend. He was really looking for someone else.
He couldn't see Addison, and it bothered him.
But she needed space.
It really was an accident. He'd meant to seize an arm or a hip, but all those damn interns were blocking his view. When he reached out...well, he touched her...on the ass, no less. Grabbed, pinched, goosed, actually. She was so soft, and he wanted to do it again, which was completely inappropriate.
Sometimes, he wished he could just start clean with her. No baggage, no reputations. If she hadn't known about his track record with women, she'd think of him differently, the way he wanted her to. She'd trust him and believe in him.
He couldn't do it. He had to see her, even though she wanted to be away from him. A few people were still dancing, making a perfect hiding spot. But he wouldn't dance alone.
He saw a pretty brunette sitting alone at a table. All he had to do was offer his hand to her and smirk, and she took the bait. The view from the dance floor was perfect. Addison hunched over the bar, as if her legs were too weak to hold her body up.
Oh, God. I'm turning into one of those creepy stalkers. He diverted his eyes, but slowly found himself staring at her again.
He needed to go over there and take her home. She didn't want him to, though. She probably never wanted to see him again. It actually felt like that most of the time, but she made up for it when she let her guard down and snuggled with him or laughed at something no one else would find funny. In those moments he hoped that she might be falling in love with him.
The time flew by when he was thinking of her. Before he knew it, several songs had passed and the brunette became more aggressive. She danced like Addison wouldn't, but Mark couldn't hold her as close. It wasn't personal.
He checked his cell phone. The banquet would end soon, and he should make sure Addison got home all right before he screwed the brunette in the bathroom.
He turned them around until he could see the bar again. Addison was gone. Completely absent.
She's probably in the bathroom or something. Still, he felt obligated to make sure.
He ran his hand up the brunette's thigh, and pressed into her. "I gotta go make sure my buddy made it home. Wait for me?"
"Awww!" She kissed Mark's cheek. "That's so nice of you! Of course, I'll be right here."
He let go of her, and she started spinning around in circles. He figured she'd be okay while he looked for Addison.
He searched around the empty bar and marveled at how fast the place cleared out. The interns were probably preparing for their first forty-eight hour shift. Mark certainly didn't miss those days.
He dialed her phone number as he exited the banquet hall. Hearing her voice mail left him with a sense of foreboding.
He called Derek instead.
For once, he answered. "Hello?"
"Are you busy?"
"What do you want?"
"Umm." He paced the hallway, running his hand along the bumpy wallpaper. "I lost Addison."
"You lost her? Where did she go?" Derek's voice squeaked in concern.
"If I knew, I wouldn't be calling you. Is she at the hospital?" Mark knocked on the door of the women's bathroom. No response.
"I don't think she's here." Derek paused to ask a few bystanders if they'd seen his wife. "Yeah. No one's seen her. I thought you were going to watch her."
Mark didn't understand how Derek could just pass his wife along like that. Addison didn't need a babysitter; she needed a proper husband. Still, it's my fault that she wandered off. "She got upset and needed some space."
"Upset because of me?" Derek asked.
Mark didn't know. It was probably both of them; she was trying so hard to make them happy. "I'm not sure."
"Did you dance with her?"
Kind of a weird question, Mark thought. "Yeah. Is that okay?" He never thought Derek would get jealous. After all, he refused to dance and then left her there with Mark.
"I told her not to," Derek huffed, annoyed.
Maybe Mark wasn't the only one feeling guilty. He supposed he should apologize. Being on Derek's good side would be beneficial if he ever found out how Addison was spending her Friday nights. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't know."
"It's okay. If you find her, tell her I'm not mad at her." He paused, "Was she drinking?"
"A bit," Mark remembered her getting a little tipsy, but she seemed to sober up by the end of the night. Then again, she'd had a few more drinks at the bar. Surely she'd have enough sense to call a cab.
Derek didn't say anything for a while, breathing heavily into the phone.
"Derek? You there?"
"Just find her, Mark. And call me."
Mark stared at the door of the restroom hesitantly. "I'm going into the ladies' restroom. Wish me luck."
"See ya, man."
Mark closed his phone, slipping it into his pocket. He'd never gone into a women's bathroom without being specifically invited. He cautiously opened the door. There were two women standing in front of the mirror, applying makeup. They stared at him.
He didn't dare step in. "Uh. Did a tall redhead come in here or leave?"
They shook their heads.
Damn. I was counting on that. For the first time, the worry started to creep up his throat. He left, and decided to search the rest of the hallway. It was a large place, he reasoned, she could have gotten lost. There were a bunch of little conference rooms adjacent to the grand hall. He took a quick peek in each of them and trusted that she wouldn't have left without him.
Farther into the hallway, the rooms started to change from business-orientated to a domestic design. There was an office and a kitchen, and even a living room. Someone must live here. Probably the owner. But no one's here. The hall twisted around and Mark began to lose track of direction. There was one closed door, near the end of the hallway. A tingle resonated in his spine, causing the hair on his arms to stand straight up.
It's probably a bedroom. He started to move on, but then stopped. What if she's in there though? It could be another bathroom.
He knew he shouldn't go in, on the account of breaking the law. Was it trespassing? He supposed he could always fake drunkenness and stumble out of there if he walked in on something. He wasn't trying to steal anything; his reasoning was legitimate.
His fingers wrapped around the doorknob and opened it in one swift motion.
It was dark, and as his eyes adjusted, he could see it was a library of sorts. The light from the hallway flooded in and revealed bookshelves lining the walls. Something slammed against wood and Mark turned on the lights.
He recognized her shoes first. Black, open-toed, spiky heel.
Two men kneeled near her thighs. Their eyes widened in surprise. When they moved, he could see that one of them had his hands up the skirt of Addison's dress.
It made him physically sick, and then, livid. He knew he'd seen them before, but he couldn't recollect where. His first instinct was to charge at them, dig his fingernails into their skin, and rip. Their faces flurred together as tears burned in his ees.
He had to blink and shift his eyes away. "Get off of her."
It seemed less intimidating with the lights on. He slowly looked back to Addison, who wasn't moving. God, she can't be dead. She has to be fine. The men had stopped touching her, but they didn't get up either.
If they stayed any longer, he was going to strangle them, no matter what kind of strength they had against him. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his body, and thought that maybe he could take them, if need be. "Leave and I won't call the cops." He prayed that they wouldn't challenge him. He was scared, but he'd rather die than let Addison stay locked up with them.
They stood up, and he ignored the bulges in their jeans, concentrating on saving Addison.
The one with the beard explained, "She came with us willingly. We were just trying to find her a place to sleep."
He shook his head, not able to comprehend their excuses. He needed to go to her.
He rushed to her side when he couldn't hear their footsteps out in the hall anymore. "Addison. Wake up." It brought him great relief to see her stomach stretch against her dress every so often. She's breathing. "Addison." He pulled her dress over her thighs for the sake of decency and rubbed her arm.
She made a noise and rolled over on her side.
He swallowed thickly when he saw that her dress had been untied at the top. His eyes rolled up to the ceiling and he clenched his fists until the anger subsided. A few tears couldn't be held in and dripped onto her dress. Without looking, he gently flipped her over on her back. "Let's get up."
"Mark?" She didn't open her eyes or move.
"Yeah, it's me." He grabbed her hands and attempted to pull her dead weight up.
She groaned again, "I'm sleeping."
"I know," He got her to a sitting position. "We've got to get out of here."
"Hmmm. Mark."
She wouldn't stand. "I'm going to carry you," he let her know, though she wasn't entirely conscious. He hastily tied her dress back together and hoisted her up. She wasn't too heavy, just long and unwieldy.
She seemed so peaceful, asleep in his arms. He kissed her forehead, something new for them. She tasted like peaches and something wonderful, but he felt horrible that she wasn't awake to share it with him. He decided it didn't count as their first kiss, and managed to ignore the softness of her skin. She'd already been taken advantage enough that night.
He took the back entrance, hoping no one would see them and suspect something. When she found out in the morning, she'd be embarrassed and miserable anyway, without the whole hospital knowing.
On the street, he had her slouch up against him while he could hailed a cab. She kept slipping away so he was glad when a cab came quickly. After making sure she was situated and buckled in, he called Derek.
"I found her," he announced first, wanting to start the conversation as optimistically as possible.
"Thanks. Could you send her home in a cab?"
That's less than enthusiastic. "You should come home." He used the most morose tone possible. Derek wouldn't leave the hospital unless it was serious, but he would still be furious with Mark for letting this happen, regardless of how much he actually cared about Addison.
"Why? Is she hurt?" He heard Derek shuffling some papers in the background.
Mark looked at Addison and scanned over her skin quickly. No bruises or scratches. "She seems to be okay." He didn't really feel comfortable checking under her dress. "Just come home so you can put her to bed. She needs you."
"Can't you do it?"
Mark glanced at her again. "No." It was Derek's responsibility anyway; he took the vows and everything. And Mark knew if he found any evidence that they'd hurt her, he was going to hit something. Probably a wall or a window or something expensive.
Derek sighed, "Can you bring her to the hospital?"
"She's asleep." He ran his fingers through her hair, twisting the fiery strands. "I don't think she's going to wake up anytime soon."
"Is she drunk?" Derek asked, bitterly.
"Maybe." But Mark didn't really believe that. She hadn't drank that much.
"I just don't want to catch a cab home and have to come back in a few hours."
She was nothing more than an inconvenience for him, and Mark couldn't stand it. "She needs you! Something happened, and..."
"Between the two of you?" Now Derek was interested.
Mark didn't even bother answering the question. He checked to make sure Addison wasn't listening and whispered, "I found her in a room with two guys and she was asleep and it wasn't good, Derek. I got her out of there but I don't know what to do."
Derek paused and set the phone down. A few muffled sounds that Mark couldn't distinguish came from the receiver, and then a scratchy noise and Derek's voice, "I'll be home."
After the familiar click of a hangup, Mark put his phone away. He pulled Addison into his arms and held her for the rest of the ride.
She was beginning to wake up when they got to the brownstone. He had to help her out after paying the driver. By the time he dragged her to the bed, he was out of breath. He placed her on top of the covers, but didn't take her dress off. They'd never slept in Derek's bed before, always his, but he didn't care.
The bed bounced a little as he climbed to lay next to her.
She cracked her eyes open for the first time. "Mark?" He rested his arm on top of her stomach to secure her. "Did you bring me home?"
"Yeah."
"That's nice of you." She touched him to make sure he was really there and smiled.
She doesn't remember anything. "Are you tired?"
"Very much," she closed her eyes, and rested her head on his shoulder, allowing him to slide a hand under her and around her back.
He hadn't held her in a week, which was too long. Everything about him craved more of her to make up for the lost time and he couldn't stop himself from watching her sleep. His hand grazed her chest, his fingers trailing down her cleavage.
Bad move. "Oh. Fuck." After everything they'd been through tonight, he was still hot for her. This officially convinced him that he had a disease. Why else would he be this attracted to his best friend's wife? "Addison," he tapped her, keeping his hands as far away from her as possible. "Wake up and talk to me."
"No," she refused. "Keep doing that. Hmm...it tickles."
Yeah, that's what I need- encouragement. "I can't. I need you to talk to me." Or else he was going to have to touch her again, and he didn't want Derek to come home to see his face nestled in Addison's boobs.
She sighed dreamily, "What do you want to talk about?"
"I don't know." He had something he wanted to ask her. That's too forward. Still, she's as honest and relaxed as she gonna get. He paused, "What if we were married? What would that be like?"
"Well," she folded her hands on her stomach. "Derek would be here and you would be at the hospital."
He wasn't expecting that at all. "How'd you come to that conclusion?"
She watched him through slitted eyes. "You and Derek are a lot alike."
"But I would never be able to leave your side," he countered.
She ignored the sentiment in his words, turning her head and focusing on a picture of her and Derek together. "You would," she paused, "You'd get sick and tired of me, just like Derek."
"Derek isn't sick and tired of you." It seemed like the right thing to say, even though he wasn't really sure what Derek was doing or feeling anymore. "And I'd never get tired of you."
"Thanks." She closed her eyes. "Tell me what you think it would be like."
He was glad to share his answer with her; he'd spent a long time thinking about it. "We'd watch movies every Friday, like we do now, but you wouldn't have to leave in the morning. We could stay in bed all day. And dance without feeling guilty. Just for fun. Maybe we'd even retire early, but not really because neither of us could stand being away from a scalpel for too long. We'd go on lots of vacations in sunny, warm places and have four kids. I know you don't want that many, but, let's face it, our genes are too extraordinary to go to waste. We'd have a dog too, and a big house," and lots of sex, he added mentally. "I wouldn't work all the time, like Derek." He stopped, "Are you listening to me?"
She whimpered a little.
He kissed her forehead again and she snuggled into him, rubbing her face against his cheek. She didn't seem to mind so he kissed her eyelids and her nose.
He inched down the bed a little and suspended himself over her. It took a great deal of physical effort not to collapse on top of her, but the strong muscles in his forearms held him up. He lowered himself, and stretched his neck out. Their lips barely touched before he heard the front door open.
"Ugh," He groaned, rolled off of her, and stood without jarring her. Derek's footsteps echoed in the kitchen followed by a crinkling of a bag.
Mark checked around the room to make sure there was no evidence of what he'd done. He tried to find a comfortable position leaning against the dresser so it'd look like he'd been there for the past half hour.
Derek nearly ran up the stairs. Mark caught a whiff of coffee before he saw him, completely frazzled with his shoes and coat still on. He carried a orange prescription bottle and a Styrofoam cup.
Derek rushed to the foot of the bed to observe Addison. "Is she all right? Is she asleep?"
"Yes." Mark didn't want to say anything in fear that Derek would realize he'd been kissing his wife a few seconds ago.
"Here." Derek handed Mark the cup of coffee. "Thanks for staying with her."
Mark was surprised that Derek was even talking to him. He'd lost Addison and let something bad happen to her. "No problem."
"Yeah." Derek stared at Addison nervously. "I brought her some medicine." He held it up, "We were out and she'll probably have a headache."
"Good idea." Mark took the bag from his hand and set it on the dresser.
Derek moved to the side of the bed and fell to his knees. He stroked her hair where Mark had just touched her. "So what happened?"
"I told you. I took my eyes off of her for a second and then she was gone. I found her in a room with two men and..." his voice trailed off. He couldn't bear to describe it.
Derek watched Addison and then got up to get a drink of water and sat on the edge of the bed by Addison's feet. "Are you sure you didn't misunderstand? Maybe they were trying to help her."
"I saw them, Derek." Mark walked to the window, peering outside. "They were trying to help themselves." He coughed in disgust. If he thought about it any longer, he was going to throw up.
Derek shrugged in disbelief. "Well, maybe she'd passed out and they were just carrying her and you saw-"
"I know what I saw." Mark resisted pounding on the dresser with his fist. "They were getting off. One of them had his hands up her skirt and the other one was watching and touching..." He stopped, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. "I am going to be sick." He bolted to the bathroom and sat in front of the toilet. He listened to the blood pound in his ears and sputtered but nothing came out. Just the feel of the ceramic toilet bowl was enough to cool his face. After a few minutes, he went back into the bedroom.
Derek was now sitting on the bed, cross-legged, looking at her. He leaned back, as if to get a better look. "I just don't understand. She seems okay."
"Yeah." Mark couldn't believe she'd escaped without a scratch on her.
Derek sat up. "Sorry. I don't mean to keep you here. You can go if you want."
"That's okay. I'll stay." There was no way in hell he was leaving. "We all have to leave for the hospital anyway in a couple of hours." That was an excuse that Derek could believe.
He nodded, "Oh, sure. I guess that makes sense."
"Maybe you should put some pajamas on her?" Mark suggested. That dress couldn't have been comfortable for her.
"Yeah, okay."
Derek seemed a little absent-minded, like he didn't know what to do. Mark felt the same way, but he wasn't going to just sit there and watch her. He would at least try to help her. "Do you want me to leave the room or stay and help?" Stay and help. Stay and help, please.
"You can stay. I'm sure Addie doesn't mind." He paused, "Can you get them? Bottom left drawer."
Mark bent over to reach the drawer and dug through the pajamas to find the most comfortable pair. He noticed that all the sexy lingerie was at the bottom, and was glad that it hadn't been used in a while.
Derek caught him looking. "Come on, Mark. Not that kind."
Mark shoved it back to the bottom and grumbled. He hadn't suggested they use it, only stopping to look for a moment, like any other normal guy would have. He picked out a decent pair of button-up silk pajamas and set them on the bed next to Derek, who had was working on the knot at the top of Addison's dress.
"Do you think we can lift her to sit without waking her?" Derek asked.
"I don't know. We can try." Mark stood at the side of the bed while Derek pulled on her shoulders.
She groggily sat up, her eyes half open. "Derek?" She fell on top of him, her arms around him.
Derek put one of his hands on the back of her hair and pulled out her hair clip. Then, he motioned for Mark to sit behind her.
Mark, surprised at the gesture, scooted over so she sat between his legs and let her lean against him. Addison fell back asleep quickly and Mark tried not to show how much he was enjoying this.
Derek placed his hands at the top of her dress and began to tug it down. Mark hesitated to look, but Derek didn't say anything so he figured it was okay.
Derek pulled the dress down her torso, and then gasped, "Oh my God. Mark, close your eyes."
"What?" Mark looked up at the ceiling, preparing for the worst.
"She's missing her underwear." Derek's fingers shook as he put on the pajama top and buttoned it up.
"I thought it was one of those dresses where you don't need to wear a bra," Mark offered, hopefully.
"No, she had one on," Derek recalled. "I saw her without her dress on. She was trying to be seductive and we didn't have time..."
"She's not dead," Mark reminded him, as he slid his hands protectively around her stomach. "I guarantee that she will try to be seductive again in the future."
"I just feel bad," Derek touched her leg remorsefully.
Just now or all the other times you've ditched her? Mark wanted to know. Derek was one for the dramatics, but it wasn't like they were writing her eulogy. "Is she okay and everything?"
"Yeah," Derek sighed in relief. "They didn't hurt her." They both took a moment to comprehend how paradoxical that was. Derek leaned in and kissed her on the lips and Mark had to look away.
"Seriously, Mark?" Derek raised his eyebrows. "I've endured much worse PDA's from you and your girlfriends."
That didn't matter. Derek didn't like any of his dates anyway. "I'm not that bad," he claimed.
"Yeah, right." Derek laughed. "Addison always mentions something. It really bothers her."
"Really?" Addison was jealous? That was a compliment.
"That's not a compliment," Derek added.
Mark smirked, "I'll try to restrain myself next time." He really would too, being sure to focus all of his attention on Addison instead. Jealousy could always be used to his advantage.
"Okay." Derek stopped paying attention. Addison had mesmerized him again, in her sleep. He reached up and touched her cheek.
Mark wondered if he behaved like this all the time. Sure, Derek felt guilty tonight, but in the next couple weeks? He'd get busy and forget.
Derek moved to the end of the bed and set her feet on his lap. He took off her shoes carefully while Mark snuck in a few caressing touches on her hand. After placing her shoes on the floor, Derek took a deep breath, and pushed her feet through the silk bottoms. Mark watched as he slid the fabric up her legs, and lifted her up when the elastic reached her thighs.
Derek stopped. "Don't." He leaned forward and rested his weight on his palms like he was out of breath.
Mark froze, setting her back down tenderly.
"She doesn't have underwear on," he panted. "And I know she would never leave without that." He sat up on his knees and buried his face in his hands.
"Well, what did you think?" Mark asked quietly. Sure, it was painful, but he didn't expect anything less.
"I just-" He rocked forward and looked at her. "-Addie-" Derek sniffled, "-can't believe."
He needed to get a grip and control himself. "Derek!" Mark whispered fiercely. "Calm down!"
"Sorry. I'm just so tired." Derek shook his head, ruffling his curls and revealing bloodshot eyes.
Sure, Mark pitied Derek, but he was tired too. He wasn't crying all over Addison. "Just make sure she's all right."
"I already did," Derek growled.
Why Derek is getting so angry? We're wasting time. "Just look down there." Derek was her husband; it was his responsibility.
"I don't want to." Derek looked at her skirt apprehensively.
"I'm scared too," Mark confessed. But I'd do it for Addison. "Fine," he told Derek. "Look away. I'll do it." He grabbed a hold of Addison's dress and hiked it up.
"No!" Derek grabbed his hand and pulled it away. "You look away." He whispered something to Addison that Mark couldn't hear.
Derek didn't speak again for a few minutes. After a while, Mark asked him awkwardly, "Uhh. Can I look now?"
Derek made a noise and it was incredibly difficult for Mark not to glance. "Almost. Can you lift her up again?"
"Did they do any permanent damage?" It'll be a good motive for ripping their eyes out.
"No. There's nothing. Whatever they did, they left no marks," Derek admitted. "Will you please lift her up now?"
Mark placed his hands hands on her hips and felt bare skin. Derek scolded him, "Not there, Mark."
"I can't see, Derek." He moved his hand higher until he felt the silk top.
"Don't feel her up."
"I'm not."
"Excuse me if I'm extra protective," Derek spat as he inched up her pants and tied them loosely. "Now let me hold her."
Mark felt it was okay to look again. "You didn't take off the dress." He lifted it over her head by himself while Derek watched.
Addison began to stir when Derek slid his hand under her armpits and pulled her into his lap. "Shhhh, Addie."
Mark held onto one of her hands out of Derek's sight. His body felt cold and empty without her against him.
Addison started to cry before she woke up. "Derek," she gasped. "What's wrong?"
That's a little backwards, Mark thought. Her hand slipped out of his.
"What?" Derek asked, suddenly the savior when Addison was awake.
"What's wrong with me?" She clarified through a sob.
Nothing. You're perfect. Mark tapped her on the leg because he was feeling a little invisible.
"Mark." She instinctively reached for him. "What happened?"
Mark opened his mouth to apologize, but Derek took control of the conversation by grabbing her chin and turned it towards him. "Do you remember anything?"
Addison shook her head. Her tears spilled over onto Derek's fingers.
"We got in a fight," Derek explained. "And I left you along with Mark. I'm sorry."
She winced and glanced at Mark. He nodded.
Derek continued, "And you started to drink and fell asleep at the bar. Mark brought you home."
What? Mark snapped his head up and Derek gave him a knowing look.
"I remember that," Addison stared into space, thinking.
"Uhh..." Derek really wasn't going to tell her? He was going to leave her in the dark? She thinks there's something wrong with her! He'd seen cases like these. The subconscious memory would torture her forever, regardless of how safe and secure she might be. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
"No." Derek answered quickly.
"What, Mark?" Addison was counting on him to tell the truth.
He paused and realized that, in present company, he had to respect Derek's wishes, although he would certainly not let this go. "We danced together. Even though Derek told you not to."
"Oh." The tears welled back up in her eyes as she looked at Derek. "I'm so, so sorry. Derek. I'm sure I didn't mean to." She screamed silently into his shirt.
"You're forgetting, Mark, I told you to tell Addison that it was okay."
He kissed her, but Addison continued to blubber against his mouth, "I'm s-sorry. I'll never do it again. I promise. I'll do whatever you want. Just don't leave."
So much for Mark's fantasy. He had to get out of there before Derek started to make out with her right in front of him. "Derek? Can I talk to you outside for a minute?"
"Yeah." Derek set Addison down on the other side of the bed. He handed her the coffee and the medication. "Here. Take this. It'll help with the headache. The coffee's cold, but I think you'll enjoy it anyway." Derek bent over and kissed her again. "I'll be right back."
Mark closed the door behind them and led Derek down the hallway, where he was sure Addison couldn't hear. "What were you thinking?" He whispered, "We have to tell her!"
"No." Derek placed a hand on Mark's shoulder, "It's too painful already. She doesn't need this."
"We have to call the police." Mark gestured towards the bedroom. "She hasn't showered yet. There could be evidence!"
"What evidence?" Derek asked hysterically. "She's not hurt. Those men left nothing on her. She doesn't even remember."
That was a sorry excuse, if Mark ever heard one. "It's still rape!"
"No, it's not!" Derek covered his ears and counted to ten out loud.
Mark waited, and then took Derek's hands away from his ears so he would listen properly.
Derek ripped his hands away. "There's no case, except for your testimony, which isn't very solid."
"What do you mean?" His testimony was solid enough. Mark wasn't going to let these guys get away.
"Can you tell me what they looked like?" Derek challenged.
"One of them had a beard!" Mark scratched his head, trying to remember. "Fine. I didn't really get a good look."
"See?" Derek pointed out.
Mark crossed his arms. "You realize it's going to haunt her for the rest of her life. She's unhappy and she thinks it's her fault."
"It's better than the truth." Derek hissed, his eyes popping out in anger. "Now, will you let this go?"
Mark gave in, sighing. "I guess I have to."
"You will never mention this again."
Mark frowned. How can Derek just forget about it? Maybe he has to. "I'll try, Derek. That's all I'm promising."
"Okay." Derek checked his watch. "We only have two hours left."
Mark couldn't believe that they had to go to work tomorrow. Maybe he would just lock himself in his office and stare at paperwork the entire day. "We'd better get to sleep."
"I'm going to bed with my wife," Derek said, like it was an oasis that he didn't really believe in.
Mark started down the stairs to the couch, which was much more comfortable than any of the guest beds.
"Hey." Derek stopped him. "You can stay in our room tonight, if you want. I think Addison wants both of us."
Mark smiled. He saw a tiny bit of fear in Derek's eyes and knew he was needed. "Okay." He pretended that it was a chore for him, but it really was a well-developed habit, sleeping next to Addison.
"But keep your hands to yourself."
A/N: Okay, hope you liked the chapter!!
It started out as like 2000 words, but then I went back and described everything in detail and it added about 4000 words. Haha.
It was rather Mark/Derek when I said that it would be Mark/Addison. Sorry. Next chapter is DEFINITELY Mark/Addison. It involves popsicles, which is so cliche, but I love Maddison with popsicles.
This is the last chapter with this storyline. I probably won't bring it back, either. So, enjoy it now!
Thanks for reading!