The Chemistry of Love(80)

“Excuse us,” Ken said.

Lindy looked like she’d been about to make a break for it, but Tracie got her by the forearm and dragged her along.

“Just so you know,” I said, “your stepmom totally looked at my hickey. It worked.”

Marco looked perplexed—like he was trying to solve a puzzle that didn’t have a solution and my statement distracted him from figuring it out. “Apologies for all of that.”

“It was fine. Tracie was interesting, but I’ve seen leeches that suck less. I’m surprised she had time to set up this party, what with her busy schedule of luring children into her gingerbread house.”

That got me a half smile. “She’s definitely interesting,” he agreed. “She always has some fad she tries to get the family into. Right now she swears that essential oils will heal our physical and emotional issues and make us relax.”

“The only way an essential oil is going to make you relax is if it’s chloroform.”

He gave me a full smile for that one.

“I’m just glad you were here,” I told him as I sat back down. He took the seat next to me and bumped his knees into mine, and I tried very hard to ignore the tingly spikes spreading across my skin. “I was worried that I was going to say the wrong thing to her. I don’t know anything about seersucker or polo ponies or whatever it is she cares about. It probably freaks me out because it’s not easy for me to talk to Craig, and it would make things worse if I knew his mom hated me.”

“Why do you have a hard time talking to Craig?”

“I don’t know. I’m always worried I’m going to say the wrong thing and that I’ll scare him off permanently. Or that I’ll bore him.” I glanced around the room and found Craig making out with Leighton. He had his tongue so far down her throat, I wondered if somebody would have to call an ambulance to get her some oxygen.

And I didn’t feel jealous.

I was considering that realization when Marco said, “Anna, no one with half a brain would ever think you’re boring.”

“That’s sweet.” His words made me feel better.

“Do you ever feel that way with me? Like you have to worry about what you say?”

“Never.” Marco was literally the easiest person in the world to talk to.

“Good,” he said with a smile. He gestured toward the plate he’d gotten me. “Is that okay?”

“They would have kicked you out of a hunter-gatherer society.”

“I didn’t realize I needed to gather more.”

“How often have we been hanging out?” I asked.

“True. Stay here. Keep eating. I’ll get you more.”

“That’s the nicest thing a man has ever said to me,” I replied with a sigh. Marco got up, laughing, and headed back to the food table.

This time, he returned much more quickly and was carrying three plates. I wondered if I should care what other people might think. Or if Tracie would try to charge me for eating extra food, but I was too hungry to care. Marco set them in front of me and then sat back down.

I got a handful of french fries. They were perfectly salted and crispy. “French fries is my favorite F word.”

“That’s sad.”

“Why? What’s your favorite F word?”

His hot, wolfish grin let me know I’d walked right into that one. He finally said, “Friday,” but I got his nonverbal innuendo. I glanced around, wondering whose benefit that had been for, but no one was within earshot. He added, “And did you see that they have ketchup here? You know, in case you want any.”

That took me a second, until I remembered that he had compared himself to ketchup in his zeal to convince me that he was my type.

I had to be blushing, but thankfully he didn’t bring it up.

Grabbing a slider, I held it aloft. “Do you think they have this in a size for people who like to eat?”

He ignored my question and said, “I saw you talking to Lindy.”

“She’s great. I like how her brain works. She reminds me a lot of you.” I took a bite of the slider.

“I’ve never seen her talk to anyone at events like this outside of family.”

“Maybe you were right when you were lying about me to your stepmom and I am special.”

“That wasn’t a lie, Anna.”

My breath caught, and I suddenly didn’t feel quite so hungry.

At least, not for food.

“And you were chatting up Craig, too. You’ve hit the Kimball kid trifecta. What did he have to say?”

I suddenly found myself not able to remember much about what Craig and I had discussed. “He didn’t know I quit Minx. Oh, and he said something about me being an ugly duckling.”

A flash of anger crossed Marco’s features. “Where is he?”

“Why?”

“I’m going to commit a little fratricide.”

Having also wanted to punch Craig tonight, I got the impulse. And it was honestly a bit thrilling that Marco wanted to beat someone up on my behalf. I put my hand on his forearm.

“It’s okay. I think it was supposed to be a compliment.”

“You’re too nice,” he said, still sounding angry.

“I’ve been accused of a lot of things, but I’m pretty sure too nice was not one of them.”