Stephanie Doyle - For the First Time

Mark ignored her doubt about the intentions behind tonight’s activities. While he might appreciate her attraction, he certainly wouldn’t feel obligated to explain any part of his life to her. If that put her nose out of joint, then it was her issue. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted her to pursue him or not. Because when it came to him and women, it only ever went two ways. Either they chased him until he was ready to be caught, or Ben, his former rival and now friend, showed interest in a woman who Mark would then actively seduce.

It had worked every time, until Mark met Anna. Because Ben and Anna had been in love.

Love. Mark had never truly been in love. He used to worry what kind of person that made him. After years of dissecting his relationship with Helen, he’d concluded that if he’d loved her, really loved her, then staying with her and Sophie would have been more important than pursuing any life dream.

But she had betrayed him. In the worst way. She lied to him about taking birth control while actually trying to get pregnant. Trying to find a way to cage him. To keep him from doing the thing he told her he’d always dreamed of doing. They had been together for what, eight or nine months? Two young kids enjoying college and steady sex.

They hadn’t even lived together. Their entire relationship consisted of bars, beers, late-night calls and finding secretive places at parties to have sex.

From that she had wanted forever. Had tried to make it happen by tricking him. A fact he would never share with Sophie.

He didn’t regret the course of events. He couldn’t. He had Sophie now. How could he possibly be sorry when she was so spectacularly amazing? But had Helen lived, when he returned to the States to build a relationship with Sophie, there would have been nothing but a cordial friendship between him and his ex-girlfriend.

After Helen, Mark’s ideas about love and relationships changed. He was totally up front about what he wanted from a woman. Harshly, that meant sex and only sex. He liked the game. He liked the chase. Whether he was doing the chasing or someone was chasing him. And he liked sex.

There was no love involved in any of that. But lately he’d been rethinking his position. Maybe finding someone he could actually try to develop...what? After so many years of playing, he couldn’t actually say he understood what a real relationship was. He couldn’t fathom a scenario that he would be willing to subject not only himself to, but Sophie, as well.

“What’s the matter?”

Mark shook himself out of his reverie. What the hell was his problem anyway? There was no reason to be thinking about love and sex now.

It was only JoJo who was coming over.

He transferred the lasagna to the dish then splashed the sides of the ceramic with sauce. He turned on the oven and put aluminum foil over the dish, hoping ten minutes of heat might permeate the apartment with the smell of home cooking. He didn’t have to pretend with the bread. Who came home and made fresh bread? As soon as he had the garlic and butter coating ready he could throw the loaf under the broiler. Surely that would give off enough smell to convince anyone that major work had transpired in the kitchen.

“Are you serious about this?” Sophie asked as she watched him methodically set the stage.

“Like a heart attack. Here.” Mark handed his daughter the garbage bag containing all evidence from the restaurant—the receipt, the trays the food came in, even the menu that had been included. “Take this to the trash shoot. Be careful on your return. If she’s already at the door, double back, walk the long way around the hallway and then pretend you’d forgotten to pick up the mail.”

Mark walked to the dish where Sophie had already placed the day’s mail and handed it to her.

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