[4] He Only Likes Me Because Of My Hair

Before I do something stupid and get rid of the distance between us because his lips were looking mighty soft right now, I push him on the chest. 

Distance, we need a safe distance.

"I could give you legal advice when it comes to taxes," Luckily, laws on taxes was a lesson that I had on my pre-law course. It was nothing but just memorization and logic. "If you want to have deductions when it comes to your taxable income, you should consider setting up an office space inside your house."

"H-h-h-huuh?" He slurred, blinking at me in confusion.

Shaking my head, I pinch one of his cheeks.

Soft as a baby's bum!

"In simple terms, the bigger your office space at home, the more deductions on your taxable income."

"W-wha?"

"In five-year-old language, if you have space in your home where you work, you could save more money. Home-based businesses allow you to deduct percentages of your workspace to the space of your whole house."

He blinked again. I shake my head to myself and look straight ahead instead. He was so out of it he probably wouldn't even understand what I was saying at this point.

Then suddenly, Markus stands up and walks towards the entrance without so much as hiccupping or hitting someone else on the way.

But then not more than a few minutes later he comes back with a thick folder on his hands.

He taps Big Mama on the shoulder, "Privateroomplease."

He was still tumbling with his words, but Big Mama could hear whatever it was that he had meant. As quickly as she could, she grabs Markus and pulls him towards one of the more private booths. Before he could enter, he stopped himself and looked around.

When his eyes settle on me, he waves in the air and points towards the room.

"Come with me, blondieeee!"

Keira snorts from right next to me like she wasn't busy getting sloppy kisses from one of the groom's friends.

This was probably the longest shift I'd had without money hanging off my crop top.

I stand up to follow the drunk Markus when I feel someone stop me by the arm.

"Alright, I'll bite. Stop playing hard to get."

It was the rich groom again. He was looking at me under his lashes and I paused as if in thought. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my arm away from him. My eyes gaze down on him, and now that I looked at him again, he wasn't even all that. "Nah, I'd rather stay with that stingy bastard."

I didn't wait for his reply. I made my way towards the private booth.

Plus, while he was busy drinking, I'd already accidentally found his wallet.

Ardere has a strict keep an eye on your possessions and that we're not liable for anything lost within the premises rule. 

The private room wasn't that big. It was just a small booth that had a velvet arc sofa that was soft to the touch. In the middle was a circular glass table. And on top of the table was the folder, some paper sticking out of it.

Markus had both of his arms draped over the back of the sofa. He was looking up, slack-jawed.

"Markus?"

He sits up straight again, looking at me confused. I pointed towards the folder and he brightened up. He taps on the seat next to him and I scoot over just beside him, maintaining a safe distance between us.

He was looking cuter and cuter tonight and that was dangerous.

I was so busy looking at him that I forgot just how soft the sofa was.

Stumbling, I fix myself up. My wig almost falls off, but I immediately tuck my real hair that got loose behind my ear. I lift my eyes and see Markus staring at me. There was heat in his eyes, making me clench my thighs.

He slowly runs his fingers along the tips of my blonde wig.

Then he pulls it off me, and the wig drops on the floor in a messy heap.

"Wow," He mumbled, a slow smile appearing on his face. "Beautiful brunette."

Unconsciously, I bite my lower lip. He was looking at me weirdly, and he was still looking at my face, not my cleavage. It was freaking me out. Clearing my throat, I grab the folder from the table and flip through the pages. There were numbers upon numbers and I just knew my head would be messed up after this.

"This is going to cost you."

He frowns almost immediately, "Wha? Not free anymoreee?"

"Trust me, after I fix this, the profit will be more than the cost."

He taps his chin and nods his head absentmindedly.

A few hours later, Keira's head pops through the curtains, surprising both of us. Markus squeals and climbs onto my lap, hugging me tightly. His arms almost choking me. Keira didn't even look apologetic, she was covering her mouth, snickering.

"I just want to tell your friend that his friends left already."

Markus still didn't get off my lap, instead, I feel him lean his cheek against the top of my head. His hand was now caressing my hair, and he was mumbling sweet nothings to me. It was so slurred that I couldn't even understand him.

I squeeze his shoulder, "Markus, we could call you a cab, where do you live?"

"Dunno," He hummed, snuggling more in my hair. "I-i-i-i'mlost."

"Lost?"

He chuckles, tightening his hold on me. "In your eyeeees."

Keira snorted loudly, and I found myself blushing like an idiot.

"Markus, you need to go home. Aren't you tired?"

"Aren't you tireeed?"

I chuckled, "Why would I be tired?"

"Runninginmymind."

Shaking my head, I looked up at the clock that was on top of the doorway. It was placed there to time just how long the patrons were at the private booth. It was already close to midnight and I still had school tomorrow. Markus still hasn't let me go and was clinging on to me like there was no tomorrow.

Sighing, I make up my mind.

"Markus, what do you say about a little sleepover?"