The Chemistry of Love(92)

“Why would I do that? I don’t work for Minx.”

He reached for my hand, and I pulled it away from him. I didn’t want him to touch me.

The door opened, and Craig jumped up, as if we’d been doing something wrong. Marco walked in the room and glanced between us, as if he’d interrupted something.

I rushed over to him and threw my arms around him. Not just because I wanted to get away from Craig, but I wanted to touch him again.

Marco kissed me hot and hard, making me dizzy, and then said, “I have to take a shower. Care to join me?”

Oh, I very much wanted that, but this time I knew for sure he’d said it solely for his brother’s benefit.

Marco glanced over at his brother. “Close the door on your way out.”

Craig did as instructed, but he looked frustrated and confused as he shut the door. I didn’t know what that was about.

As soon as we were alone, Marco relaxed his hold on me, but I didn’t let go. He smiled weakly at me. “I’m gross.”

He most definitely was not. He was hot and sweaty from skiing, but I liked it. I wanted to pull him over to his bed and have him press me down and then see if his skin tasted salty and—

“It seems like things are going according to plan,” he said, interrupting me.

There was no plan, as far as I was concerned. I didn’t want Craig. But if I told Marco that, then what? Would he put me on a plane and send me home? He still needed me. He was trying to impress his dad by dating someone down-to-earth, right?

But if he wanted Craig and Leighton to break up, I was not the woman for the job.

What would he do if I told him that?

I knew I wasn’t good enough for Marco, and it wouldn’t take much for him to see it, too. I just couldn’t let that wall down completely. I was caught in this limbo where I wanted to protect my heart and I was too afraid to lose him. I would stay in this pretense if it meant I got to be near him. So I just nodded and said, “Yep.”

He gave me a sad smile. “I’m going to go shower. I’ll see you after?”

Then he took off his shirt as he walked toward the door, and I was torn between shielding my eyes to give him some privacy and soaking in every second of getting to view his incredible chest and then his back.

He closed the bathroom door and ended my dilemma. I decided that I needed to go downstairs.

There was no way I could calmly sit here while he was naked in a shower with only an unlocked door between us.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX


I went to the library. So far it seemed to be the quietest room in the house, and I needed to be able to hear my own thoughts. The first thing I did was consider Marco’s recent behavior. He’d felt a little off upstairs, and I wasn’t sure why. Maybe the skiing had been strenuous and he just needed to relax a bit. Not to mention how cold it was outside. It would make me grouchy to have to spend a long time in it.

That made me think of last night, when we’d first arrived. Those words he’d said to me. Now that I knew he was fully certified in fandom, that actually made figuring out his words more difficult. I’d assumed it had been a foreign language. Maybe Italian?

But now it could be anything. Klingon. Orcish. Na’vi. Dothraki. There was no way to narrow it down. I tried phonetical spellings, but that wasn’t yielding anything, either.

“There you are.” Marco’s rich voice filled the room and made my heart flutter with anticipation.

“Here I am,” I agreed and turned to look at him as I set my phone down. Although I should have expected it, I didn’t. Holy Kylo Ren’s stupidly retconned reconstructed mask, Marco was damp.

Water and Marco combined were clearly my kryptonite. I cleared my throat loudly. “So . . . dinner. Which is happening soon.” I inwardly cringed. “Is this like, a draping-ourselves-in-diamonds-and-couture-before-the-blood-sacrifice-starts situation?”

“Nothing like that,” he reassured me as he sat down on the couch next to me. Much, much too close. He draped his arm across the back, and my skin tingled in anticipation.

“I was upstairs thinking about you,” he said.

In the shower? Somebody was going to have to bring me the smelling salts. “Oh?”

“Yes. I was thinking that of the different experiments we’ve conducted, not one of them included a durability test.”

“Durability?” I asked, my voice high and breathless.

I saw his Adam’s apple bob in response. He nodded, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak.

His suggestion was so, so reasonable and logical. We should absolutely make out. For science.

“A sustained, ongoing kiss.” I nodded. But even in my hormonally intoxicated–like state, I recognized that it was a weak argument and the reason why. “This isn’t about the lipstick, Marco. The only reason we should be kissing is because you want to.”

His eyes darkened at my words, nearly black. His gaze flickered down to my lips. He obviously recognized his words being used, because he repeated mine back to me. “I want you to kiss me, Anna.”

I leaned forward, eager and willing. I put my hand on his chest. Both because I wanted to touch him and to give myself an extra moment. We both were breathing hard and fast, and I was glad he was affected, too. Whatever his reasons were for this—to stop Craig, to save Minx, to participate in what was basically a leisure sport for him—I was glad he was here and wanted this.