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hand. Now if you don t mind, I m stealing my wife.
CHAPTER 13
U
nmarked essays were piled on my coffee table while I sat on the floor beside my stack of marked
ones. Every now and then I d reach for my cooling mug of coffee and glance over at Marco, who was
stretched out on my couch, dozing.
Dark and cold outside, it was warm inside my flat as the fire crackled in my grate. I couldn t believe
it was almost December. It had been a crazy few weeks. A crazy few weeks of hanging around
Marco. A lot.
After thinking over Nate s advice I decided that holding out on Marco longer was the only way I d
know for certain if he was genuinely interested in me and not just in sleeping with me again. My gut
told me that wasn t the type of person he was. Not with me anyway, but that nagging doubt, that
memory of him leaving me alone on India Place that fateful night, held me back from believing in him
all the way.
Only time would tell.
The weekend after our movie night together, Marco had had plans. However, the following Monday
he turned up at my door after work, carrying a bag of groceries and film rentals. He quickly set
himself up in my kitchen and I watched in bemusement as he threw together homemade meatballs and
spaghetti. I don t know why I was surprised that he could cook. His uncle owned and ran a restaurant.
We had fun that night, keeping it friendly, although Marco couldn t help himself he tried to flirt a
little despite my lack of any outward response. He called me on his lunch break that week, he texted
me a lot, and tried to tempt me to meet him for drinks on the Friday. It was a busy week, so I told him
I had too much work to do. Not to be rebuffed, he asked me what I was doing that weekend and I
explained I was going Christmas shopping in Glasgow. I liked to be organized about the whole
Christmas presents thing.
To my utter surprise, Marco invited himself along.
That Saturday we met at Edinburgh s Waverley Station and boarded the train to Glasgow together.
For fifty minutes we sat across from each other and barely said a word. Although Marco was
definitely more loquacious than he used to be and he wasn t exactly broody anymore, he was still that
guy who was comfortable and happy to sit in silence with me.
He caught me studying him as we passed through Falkirk and he smiled at my scrutiny. What?
You ve changed, but you haven t.
There was recognition, an understanding, in his eyes that told me he knew what I meant. You too.
Although I wasn t willing to admit to my attraction to him, I wanted him to know I still remembered
how good our friendship had been and that so far it had been good again. We always had this,
though. Being able to just be quiet and not have it feel awkward. Not needing to feel like we had to
fill the silence. I have that with Cole, but& I mean, he s like a brother, so& but other guys, we ve
never had& I trailed off, realizing I was perhaps giving him more than I d meant to.
I looked over at him when he didn t reply, and tensed at the sudden stillness around him.
He leaned toward me. I know I asked if there had been anyone special in your life but, honestly,
Hannah, I don t want to hear about other guys. His jaw hardened and he looked out of the window.
That pissed me off. I was definitely not impressed with his display of alpha man possessiveness. But
not wanting to have a fight in public, I stayed quiet, slowly allowing the burn of anger to dissipate.
After ten minutes of now awkward silence, I replied quietly, You and I are just friends. And if he
continued to be a possessive idiot, that s the way we d remain.
Marco looked at me sharply. But you know I want more, he answered. So you also must
understand why I don t want to hear shit about other guys you ve been with. Guys that got all that I ve
wanted since I fucked it all up.
The weight of our history, of our feelings and confusion, wrapped around me with a sense of longing
then, and I felt fearful. Of us. Of our future. Or lack thereof. Without thinking, I whispered, Maybe
we shouldn t hang out anymore.
You can handle it, he said stonily, his tone brooking no argument.
I forced myself to meet his hard gaze. But can you?
As long as you don t talk about the guys you ve fucked, or Cole too much, then, yeah, I can handle
it.
I narrowed my eyes. Cole s my best friend.
He ducked his head, bringing us closer. I m your best friend, he answered roughly. You ve just
forgotten. My fault, I know. I can help you remember.
Honestly, I didn t know how to reply to that. It made me ache so much for what we had been and for
what I was terrified to have again with him.
So I remained quiet. It wasn t until we were pulling into Glasgow Queen Street that Marco broke the
silence, saying casually, Gabby wants something called a Jo Malone for Christmas. Please tell me
you know what that is?
I stared at him and his proverbial olive branch.
And then I made a decision. I laughed. It s a store. Did she say what she wanted from Jo Malone?
Marco stared at me blankly.
Okay. I patted his shoulder as we moved to get off the train. We ll go with a general gift box.
Somehow, despite the hairy moment on the train, we had a great time together that day. After shopping
for a bit, we stopped for lunch at a pub. There, I impulsively offered, You know, if we don t get
everything this weekend, I d be happy to help you shop next weekend.
Marco s gaze softened at my suggestion. However, his quiet answer was a rebuff. I can t next
weekend.
I tried not to feel stupid for putting myself out there. I d never have felt stupid about something like
that when we were kids.
His eyebrows drew together at my silence. It s complicated, but, uh& I ll explain it to you soon, he
promised. When the time is right.
My stomach flipped unpleasantly and I did my best to ignore the feeling. That s cryptic.
It s just a long story. One I intend to tell, like I said, when the time is right.
Hypocritically, I didn t like that Marco was keeping something from me, even though I was keeping
something from him. To cover that feeling of possessiveness I d been pissed at him for only hours
before, I shrugged casually. It s not like we re& You don t owe me anything.
Yes, I fucking do, he said abruptly. Whatever this is he gestured between us it s important. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl aikidobyd.xlx.pl
hand. Now if you don t mind, I m stealing my wife.
CHAPTER 13
U
nmarked essays were piled on my coffee table while I sat on the floor beside my stack of marked
ones. Every now and then I d reach for my cooling mug of coffee and glance over at Marco, who was
stretched out on my couch, dozing.
Dark and cold outside, it was warm inside my flat as the fire crackled in my grate. I couldn t believe
it was almost December. It had been a crazy few weeks. A crazy few weeks of hanging around
Marco. A lot.
After thinking over Nate s advice I decided that holding out on Marco longer was the only way I d
know for certain if he was genuinely interested in me and not just in sleeping with me again. My gut
told me that wasn t the type of person he was. Not with me anyway, but that nagging doubt, that
memory of him leaving me alone on India Place that fateful night, held me back from believing in him
all the way.
Only time would tell.
The weekend after our movie night together, Marco had had plans. However, the following Monday
he turned up at my door after work, carrying a bag of groceries and film rentals. He quickly set
himself up in my kitchen and I watched in bemusement as he threw together homemade meatballs and
spaghetti. I don t know why I was surprised that he could cook. His uncle owned and ran a restaurant.
We had fun that night, keeping it friendly, although Marco couldn t help himself he tried to flirt a
little despite my lack of any outward response. He called me on his lunch break that week, he texted
me a lot, and tried to tempt me to meet him for drinks on the Friday. It was a busy week, so I told him
I had too much work to do. Not to be rebuffed, he asked me what I was doing that weekend and I
explained I was going Christmas shopping in Glasgow. I liked to be organized about the whole
Christmas presents thing.
To my utter surprise, Marco invited himself along.
That Saturday we met at Edinburgh s Waverley Station and boarded the train to Glasgow together.
For fifty minutes we sat across from each other and barely said a word. Although Marco was
definitely more loquacious than he used to be and he wasn t exactly broody anymore, he was still that
guy who was comfortable and happy to sit in silence with me.
He caught me studying him as we passed through Falkirk and he smiled at my scrutiny. What?
You ve changed, but you haven t.
There was recognition, an understanding, in his eyes that told me he knew what I meant. You too.
Although I wasn t willing to admit to my attraction to him, I wanted him to know I still remembered
how good our friendship had been and that so far it had been good again. We always had this,
though. Being able to just be quiet and not have it feel awkward. Not needing to feel like we had to
fill the silence. I have that with Cole, but& I mean, he s like a brother, so& but other guys, we ve
never had& I trailed off, realizing I was perhaps giving him more than I d meant to.
I looked over at him when he didn t reply, and tensed at the sudden stillness around him.
He leaned toward me. I know I asked if there had been anyone special in your life but, honestly,
Hannah, I don t want to hear about other guys. His jaw hardened and he looked out of the window.
That pissed me off. I was definitely not impressed with his display of alpha man possessiveness. But
not wanting to have a fight in public, I stayed quiet, slowly allowing the burn of anger to dissipate.
After ten minutes of now awkward silence, I replied quietly, You and I are just friends. And if he
continued to be a possessive idiot, that s the way we d remain.
Marco looked at me sharply. But you know I want more, he answered. So you also must
understand why I don t want to hear shit about other guys you ve been with. Guys that got all that I ve
wanted since I fucked it all up.
The weight of our history, of our feelings and confusion, wrapped around me with a sense of longing
then, and I felt fearful. Of us. Of our future. Or lack thereof. Without thinking, I whispered, Maybe
we shouldn t hang out anymore.
You can handle it, he said stonily, his tone brooking no argument.
I forced myself to meet his hard gaze. But can you?
As long as you don t talk about the guys you ve fucked, or Cole too much, then, yeah, I can handle
it.
I narrowed my eyes. Cole s my best friend.
He ducked his head, bringing us closer. I m your best friend, he answered roughly. You ve just
forgotten. My fault, I know. I can help you remember.
Honestly, I didn t know how to reply to that. It made me ache so much for what we had been and for
what I was terrified to have again with him.
So I remained quiet. It wasn t until we were pulling into Glasgow Queen Street that Marco broke the
silence, saying casually, Gabby wants something called a Jo Malone for Christmas. Please tell me
you know what that is?
I stared at him and his proverbial olive branch.
And then I made a decision. I laughed. It s a store. Did she say what she wanted from Jo Malone?
Marco stared at me blankly.
Okay. I patted his shoulder as we moved to get off the train. We ll go with a general gift box.
Somehow, despite the hairy moment on the train, we had a great time together that day. After shopping
for a bit, we stopped for lunch at a pub. There, I impulsively offered, You know, if we don t get
everything this weekend, I d be happy to help you shop next weekend.
Marco s gaze softened at my suggestion. However, his quiet answer was a rebuff. I can t next
weekend.
I tried not to feel stupid for putting myself out there. I d never have felt stupid about something like
that when we were kids.
His eyebrows drew together at my silence. It s complicated, but, uh& I ll explain it to you soon, he
promised. When the time is right.
My stomach flipped unpleasantly and I did my best to ignore the feeling. That s cryptic.
It s just a long story. One I intend to tell, like I said, when the time is right.
Hypocritically, I didn t like that Marco was keeping something from me, even though I was keeping
something from him. To cover that feeling of possessiveness I d been pissed at him for only hours
before, I shrugged casually. It s not like we re& You don t owe me anything.
Yes, I fucking do, he said abruptly. Whatever this is he gestured between us it s important. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]