Page 74 of Hat Trick

“That’s definitely the doorbell, bro.” He flashes me a nasty grin. “Expectinganyone?”

No. I’d told my teammates I needed space today. And there’s no one else . . . oh, fuck.Gwen.

31

Gwen

You can do this,I tell myself when I’m in front of Marshall’s door.Be his kidney. Just knockcasually.

Is there any other kind ofknocking?

In an attempt to bring a smile to his face, I bought us both hot chocolate from Starbucks. Charlie was right—until I hear the admission from him directly, I choose to believe in the Marshall I know.Thatman is a gentleman and would never, ever put his career at risk. As for the matter with his dad . . . I have to trust that not everything is as it seems. I’m the perfect example ofthat.

Shuffling the cups into one hand, Icasuallyknock on the door and step back towait.

Masculine voices echo from inside the house, and then there’ssilence.

I push out a breath and do a quick rearranging of the Styrofoam cups again, so that I’ve got one in eachhand.

The door swings open, my heart catching in my throat, and then Marshall is standingthere.

Fully clothed, a little tired around the eyes, but no less good-looking.

“Hi.”

Really? That’sallyou could come up with?“Hi” is woefully inadequate for what I’m feeling right now. I want to throw myself at him, ask what I can do to help. Listen to him just as he listened to me about myfamily.

I guess “hi” will have to do fornow.

Marshall’s hand, still locked around the doorknob, shifts as he steps out onto the front stoop and eases the door shut behindhim.

“Hello.”

Was the door-closing a hint that I’m not allowed to come inside today? Awkward, definitely awkward. An awful thought hits me: what if he’s changed his mind about us? I look down at the Starbucks cups and wonder if I’ve completely made a wrong judgment callhere.

“Is that for me?” Marshall’s fingers slip over mine and pull the hot chocolate from my grasp. “I wasn’t expectingyou.”

I can’t help it—my gaze flicks to the shut door. “I saw your missed texts, and I”—well, it’s now or never—“caught wind of the news in the tabloids. I wanted to be here for you, if you needed me.” I shift my weight to my other foot. “I probably should have calledbeforehand.”

“Fuck. It’s not like that,Gwen.”

I’m not sure whether he can just read me like an open book or if my face has settled into the stereotypical suspicious-woman mode. Either way, the fact remains that he doesn’t want me in his home when shit is spiraling down aroundhim.

Clearly, he’s prepared to comfort me but when the roles are reversed, he’d just rather be alone. Which is fine, just fine,great.

Oh, my God, I think I mightcry.

“No worries.” I flash him a bright, oh-so-fake smile. The Old Gwen smile, the fragile one that couldn’t look more pained if I were battling it out with Mona Lisa. “I just wanted to stop by and offer you my kidney if you needed it.” Holy cow, I need to shut up. “Well, we’ve said hi, so I’m going to be leavingnow.”

And flee to a place where I can lick my gapingwounds.

And stop talking aboutkidneys.

“Gwen,” Marshall says firmly, catching my wrist before I can escape down the driveway. He releases my hand to run his fingers through his brown hair. “It’s mybrother.”

I don’t see the problem with that. Isn’t it a good thing that he’s still in contact with a family member considering everything? Except . . . “I didn’t realize you had a brother.” I can’t quite hide the wary edge to mytone.

“It’s not . . . It’s complicated. We don’t have a good relationship, and I’d rather you notmeet—”

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