Chapter 15

“Yeah. I kept telling them I wasn’t ready to date anyone yet.” Marc shrugged. “Mostly I just don’t want to date a girl from my parents’ church.”

“I wouldn’t either.” Sora stood and stretched past Marc to grab a tube of paint. The movement was not suggestive—Sora didn’t do ‘suggestive’, Marc guessed—but it put him close enough that Marc could feel his warmth, and his breath caught.

As Sora returned to his seat, he said, “Hey, I never told you, I actually really like this organization you did.”

Marc swallowed, forcing himself to breathe. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m a messy person. I just am.” He shrugged and squeezed a dab of black paint onto his palette. “I never would have done this all myself, but it’s kind of nice to work in an organized workspace. I’m trying to keep up on it.”

The words honestly warmed Marc’s cheeks. His smile widened. “I’m glad. I like cleaning. I like things to be clean and organized and tidy. If they aren’t, I freak out a little bit.”