The knocking at the door echoed again, a persistent tap-tap-tap that grated on Vincent's already frayed nerves.
He groaned, dragging himself off the creaky motel bed, his damp hair still clinging to his forehead from the earlier downpour. "If it's that girl again, I'm gonna choke her for every bad joke she's thrown at us," he grumbled, his voice a mix of exhaustion and mock menace.
The threat was half-hearted, but the irritation was real—her earlier antics had left him on edge.
Marcus chuckled, a warm sound that rumbled from his chest as he leaned against the wall, his damp shirt now swapped for a loose tee that hugged his frame. "Careful, Tom, she might take it as a love tap," he teased, his eyes glinting with amusement. The tease sent a flicker of heat through Vincent, but he shoved it down, stomping toward the door with a scowl.
