We spend the rest of the time discussing what days would be good to hold the defense classes. Soraya spends just a few more minutes with us because of the weather. Plus, she wants to get back to her new boyfriend. Apparently, she’s met someone, and from the way her face lights up when she talks about him, she’s head over heels in love with the guy.
From the stone look on Marco’s face when she talks about Graham, the jury is still out on whether he likes her new beau. He’s the guy who broke Marco’s jaw. They both laugh when they tell me the story and how it was all a setup. Marco was pretending to be Soraya’s boyfriend to make this guy jealous and break up with her. I’m not sure there isn’t more there than meets the eye between these two.
Soraya leaves but only with the promise that Marco and I go out with all of them next week to the bar. She’s a little bat-shit crazy some times, but she does amuse me, so there’s that. When was the last time I had friends I could hang out with? She wants everyone to meet Graham and insists I come.
I feel like I’m missing something, the way they study each other. I wonder if they were ever more than friends. I intend to poke the lion about it a little later. Not that I have any right to know, or be territorial. I mean, if they used to be something, I’m not jealous. Liar.
Marco and I spend a little while going over some of the new things I’ll be in charge of, as far as the gym goes. Basically everything. I don’t mind, though. I’m enjoying the work I do here. I feel useful for a change, like my job is essential. Being here with Marco has made me consider; maybe it’s possible for a normal life.
I excuse myself when we’re done working and head upstairs to take a shower and be a couch potato for the rest of the day. Well, a waterbed potato since I don’t have a couch.
The rain pounds against the window, and the howling winds in the background have picked up speed. I turn on the radio Marco lent me the other day, before settling on the bed with a new book I picked up at the bookstore around the corner. Billie Eilish sings about ocean eyes as I stare at the hot, shirtless cowboy on the cover of the paperback. I’m hoping he can take my mind off the storm, and Marco. Two birds-one stone. The weather has my anxiety kicking up quite a few notches, and it takes all my determination not to run next door and bang on his door.
We still haven’t talked at all about last night, and I’m a little embarrassed. I don’t want him thinking I’m some emotional hot mess. Which he probably does, because that’s pretty much what I am. That’s why he hasn’t tried to kiss you again.
I’m only a few chapters in when a soft knock at the door startles me. “Coming,” I bark, my heart starts to race as I rush to open the door, knowing it’s him. “Hey,” I mutter a little too breathy. “What’s up?”
I squeeze my thighs together, noticing the way his eyes rake up and down my body before his gaze pops back up to meet mine. His size alone should be intimidating, but his gorgeous face is what has my skin burning hot.
“I remember you saying how much you hate thunderstorms.” He jams his hands in the front pockets of his dark jeans. “I thought we could hang out until it passes. I have pizza.” He smirks.
“I could never turn down pizza,” I chuckle, moving over to the counter to lay my book down. He smirks with a quick shake of his head when he eyes the cover. I wait for him to razz me about it but he doesn’t.
I follow behind him next door, startling in surprise when the lights flicker off and on for a split second. His soothing eyes connect with mine, and all I see is tenderness and concern. Marco takes my hand, and all the tension I was holding leaves my body. Now it’s replaced with a different kind of discomfort. One that has my nipples tight and a steady throbbing pulse between my legs. The heat smoldering between us is intense, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this aroused.
“This is nice,” I say, when I see the small kitchen island has a lit candle with two place settings. There’s a salad bowl in the center and a bottle of red wine breathing next to two glasses.
He shrugs, moving to take out an insulated bag from the stove with the Russo’s logo on it, from the pizza place across the street. “I went there earlier before they closed. Should still be warm.”
My feet move across the hardwood floor toward him before my brain signals them. My body is drawn to him like a magnet. “Thanks.” My stomach rumbles. I’m pretty sure it was loud enough for Marco to hear when he chuckles. He opens the box, revealing a massive disc of cheesy goodness. My nose picks up, and I already know it’s going to taste like heaven from the aromatic smell of the baked dough and melted cheese and simmered sauce mixed with spices.
“Wine?” he offers, motioning for me to take a seat.
“Yes, please,” I murmur, as Marco pours us both a healthy glass and climbs on the barstool next to me. I’m not usually a drinker, but maybe one glass will help me relax.
“Good?” Marco asks, watching me take my first bite.
I cover my hand over my mouth as I chew, feeling his eyes on me. “Delicious,” I sputter. “Thank you.”
A heavy quietness settles in the room as we munch on pizza. It’s a comfortable silence, but it’s laced with sexual tension. Outside, the city is darkening as the rain continues to pelt the windows—the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance.
“So you and Soraya?” I break the silence before taking a large sip of wine, waiting for his response. “Was is it serious?” It’s not any of my business, but I’m dying to know what, if anything, is between them.
He stares for a long minute, probably figuring out how much he wants to say before letting out a sigh, “My cousin, Tig, and Soraya were my closest friends growing up.” He shifts in his seat. “She didn’t have the best home life. Tig and I were kind of her protectors.”
I wonder if that’s all I am to him. Does he have some sort of guardian angel complex and feels the need to help people? I already know Marco doesn’t have an unkind bone in his body. That’s part of what attracts me to him.
“I thought maybe you dated.” I fidget in my seat, staring down at my pizza crust. “I mean, you did take a punch in the face for her.”
“We’re just friends.” He gives a dismissive wave of his hand, and I’m trying to decide if I believe that. “I may have had a small…okay, big crush on her once, but…” He turns in his seat and gazes into my eyes. “There’s only one person I’m crushing on right now.”
“Oh.” I look away, downing the rest of my wine.
“Come on. Let’s go sit on the couch.” Marco pours us both another glass of wine and turns on the huge television. He breaks out some board games and plops down next to me. We play Uno, and I giggle when Marco complains I win every single round. I realize how calm I am, even though the storm outside is raging.
Our attention turns to the television as Live PD plays quietly in the background. A handsome officer pulls over a young man whose car is swerving all over the road. As the officer searches his vehicle, the driver’s Bluetooth kicks in, and heavy female moans and screams blast through the speakers. Our eyes grow wide. “I think he was watching porn,” the officer says to his partner with a blush on his face. I blush a little myself. All I can think about now is watching porn with Marco. We shake our heads and scoff as the officer fishes out a baggie of cocaine from under the guy’s seat. The flustered officer turns to the camera as the porn sounds continue to play loudly in the background. “Six years and I’ve never come on a traffic stop before.” Realizing his Freudian slip, the young officer tries to explain himself further, as the other officers get a good laugh at him.