Page 29 of Romancing the Rude Guy

“You were lashing out. It happens.” Her lips quirk up in a one-sided grin. “Don’t let it happen too often.”

Shoving my hand through my messy hair, I nod. “I’ll try. No promises.”

“Okay, enough stalling, Marcus. What’s going on?”

I feel ridiculous telling her I’m pouting over being uninvited to my nephew’s birthday party. The words tumble out anyway, and talking about it actually does make me feel a little better.

“Wait a minute, you told me you swam all the time. So what’s the big deal?”

Poor Alice still doesn’t get it. Then again, she’s only been out with me once at a restaurant and twice in a large park.

I gesture down at my thin legs in the baggy flannel pajama bottoms, my knobby knees poking out like a horrible shipwreck on the ocean’s smooth floor.

“I already told you. It’s not a pretty sight. People don’t want to see the disabled guy in the pool.”

Her lips pinch and she shakes her head. “What about your nephew?”

“Dan?”

“Yes, what about Dan? You don’t think he wants to see you.”

Dan’s probably one of the few people outside of my Grandma Deborah who are genuinely happy to see me. I rub at my jaw, the rough whiskers of my beard prickling my palm. “I wouldn’t want to make a scene.”

Alice stares at me and lets out a disbelieving laugh. “You never seem to have a problem making a scene any other time.”

Okay, she has a point.

“I don’t want to embarrass Dan.”

Scooting over on the couch, Alice tucks her legs under her and wraps her arms around my shoulders, giving me a fierce hug. “Marcus, you’re not going to embarrass him by showing up with a gift,” she says quietly against my neck. “I’m sure he loves you and will be delighted to see you.”

A shuddering sigh goes through me, and I clutch at her, squeezing probably a little too hard, though Alice doesn’t make a sound of protest. “Go with me?” I plead.

She wiggles to loosen my hold and pulls back enough to look into my face. “I’d love to.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

MARCUS

We give up on breakfast number two and pick up some fast food on the way to her house. I drive even though Alice says we’ll have to return to my place to get her car later. Raising my brows, I silently stare at her, loving the flush of bright red that overtakes her when she finally gets my meaning.

Maybe it’s a tad presumptuous of me assuming she’s going to spend the night again. Our relationship is incredibly new and, like we already said, moving at lightning speed.

That doesn’t bother me at all. I plan to soak up every morsel of time she’ll grant me. I’m on borrowed time with her as it is. It won’t be long before she figures out a grumpy guy in a wheelchair is too much hassle when she can have a nice guy that doesn’t have to worry about if a place has an accessible bathroom before he goes in.

That thought is cemented even more firmly in place while we are at the museum, and the new exhibit proves tricky for me to navigate since it’s entirely in the dark. Not wanting her to miss out, I head over to the little cafe and wait while she checks it out. Alice, being Alice, argued with me, but I loudly won that one in the end.

I’m sitting and sipping on lukewarm tea when I see Alice and a man stroll out together, chatting and smiling.

A burning fills my chest. I try to convince myself it’s indigestion from the greasy fast food we ate, but even I know a lie when I hear it. It’s jealousy, plain and simple.

Alice, dressed in a swirly blue dress, is a vision. The sharply dressed man beside her is tall and handsome with gleaming brown hair and a mega-watt smile.

I’m debating if I could play off running over his foot or crashing into him with my chair as purely accidental when Alice spots me and waves. Her smile grows even brighter as she parts ways with the man and strides in my direction.

Plopping down in the seat opposite me, she steals one of cookies I haven’t touched from the napkin beside my cup of tea. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Marcus, we need to find the director and talk to them about why they didn’t make that accessible. It has to be an oversight of some kind.”

That startles a laugh out of me, despite my sour mood. “Not everything can be made accessible. I’m just happy you got to enjoy it.” I try to keep the jealousy out of my voice and hope my tone is casual when I ask, “Who was your new friend?”

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