The Chemistry of Love(52)

My mouth went dry. Literally dry.

“And you just decided to let yourself in?” he asked with a small smile.

“Your front door was open.”

“It was?”

“Yes. Are you trying to get murdered?” I was attempting to keep my eyes level with his, but they kept slipping back down to take in his chest and those abs on his stomach. I’d never seen a human who had real abs before. Marco seemed to have more than his fair share.

He smiled again. “My trainer was here. He must have left it open on his way out. So no, I wasn’t trying to get murdered. Did anyone ever tell you that you worry too much?”

“Only my grandpa and a psychiatrist,” I said absentmindedly as he reached for a water bottle and took a long drink of water. I felt so distracted by all the shiny, corded muscles on display.

Why was his neck sexy? That didn’t seem like a body part that should be attractive.

I suddenly got hit with his scent and by all accounts, I should have been grossed out by how sweaty he was. Instead, it was like he was secreting pheromones directly into my bloodstream, and I felt powerless to resist. He was intoxicating.

Completely oblivious to what was happening to me, he threw the towel over his shoulder. “I’m going to grab a shower, and then we can talk after. Sound good?”

Was that a question? I wasn’t sure. There was just so . . . much . . . chest. I nodded, hoping that was the right answer.

He left, and I watched him go clear up until the second he shut his bedroom door. I let out a frustrated little groan and turned away. I had images of Marco turning on the water, taking off those shorts, stepping into the shower . . . what was going on with me? I closed my eyes like that would stop me from visualizing what was happening behind that closed door. I needed some help.

When Catalina answered her phone, she said, “I’m glad you called. You have to stop me. I need one of those huge dog collars that will zap me anytime I try to shop online.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so instead I asked, “What is wrong with me?”

“How honest do you want me to be? Also, do you want a list?” She paused. “Why do you sound weird?”

“I may or may not be at Marco’s condo, and I need you to distract me.”

“Why?”

I scrunched up my shoulders. “He’s taking a shower.”

“But why are you talking to me and not joining him?”

Good question. My body agreed.

“Please, let’s talk about something else.” Eyes shut, eyes open, it didn’t seem to make a difference. I was either imagining him in the shower or running on his treadmill.

And I’d thought I had a weak imagination.

“You sound frantic. Are you going to lie to me again and tell me you don’t have feelings for this guy?”

“It’s not feelings.” That wasn’t a lie, was it? I mean, I liked him as a person. He was fun to hang out with and was nice and thoughtful, but that wasn’t feelings. Just appreciating another kind human being. Who happened to have a body like an Olympic athlete. “He’s just . . . attractive.”

“Ding, ding, ding,” she said. “Johnny, tell her what she’s won!”

I did not need her pointed and correct sarcasm right now.

“Wait. Before we go any further, did you change out of whatever you put on this morning?” she asked.

I crossed my arms over my hoodie, as if she could see me. “Why would I change?”

“To hang out with Marco Kimball? You should put on a ball gown and a sash.”

This was the opposite of helpful.

She let out a dramatic sigh. “The only other time I’ve seen someone lie this much and this badly, it was me to myself. And as the author of several cries for help, I know one when I hear it. Tell me the truth, Anna. You want that sexy beast of a man, don’t you?”

I balled up my free hand. “I may or may not be in the midst of a hormonal Chernobyl,” I finally admitted.

She let out a whoop so loud that I had to hold the phone away from my ear.

“I knew it!” she crowed.

“Just a second,” I said. “I didn’t say I had feelings for him. Just that he’s attractive and that I acknowledge that very objective fact.”

“Anna, mi amiga, I have just one ducking word to say to you.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Kaboom.”





CHAPTER FIFTEEN


“What is kaboom supposed to mean?” I asked.

“I told you this was going to blow up in your face. While I very much enjoy being right, you know gloating’s not a good look on me.”

“Nothing has blown up. I’m just saying I’m having a typical reaction to seeing a half-naked man—”

“Half-naked?” she shrieked. “What? When? How? Which half?”

“Which half? Do you really think he was Winnie-the-Poohing it with a shirt on and nothing else?”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”

Neither would I.

I tried to shake that thought out of my head. There was nothing good that could come from this conversation because Catalina did not need to be encouraged. Or me, for that matter. “It doesn’t matter because I’m still in love with Craig.”