Page 35 of This Thing of Ours

Her shoulders stiffened. “Can I ask why you’re so angry?”

“We’ll discuss it after you get dressed.”

“I’d like to talk about it now.”

The stubborn set to her jaw almost took the edge off his anger. Almost. “Streghetta, if you don’t get dressed, there won’t be any talking.”

If possible, her eyes widened farther than when she’d spied her ruined door. “I’ll, um, just go get changed then.”

He didn’t reply as she spun on her heel and disappeared into her bedroom.

Marco sank into the couch, tipped his head back, and closed his eyes, trying to get his emotions in check before Gabriella returned. It was a futile effort as the conversation with Ricky and the subsequent panic he felt while waiting outside her unanswered door replayed in a loop through his head, not giving him peace.

Gabriella was damn lucky she looked so cute when she came back out dressed in a pair of black leggings and a t-shirt that barely covered her ass because he wasn’t any less pissed off. She took a seat at the end of the couch, put her feet on the cushion, and hugged her legs.

A whole cushion space separated them. He didn’t like it but figured it was probably best for his sanity if they remained that way.

For the time being.

“Tell me about your day.”

A furrow appeared between her brow. “My day? You storm in here angry over something and now, instead of telling me why, you want to chat?”

He gave her a small smile that he knew looked anything but cheerful. “Yes.”

She blew out a breath. “Okay. Let’s see. I got up, ate breakfast, went to class, came home, took a shower, and… anything else?” She tapped her chin then held up a finger. “Oh, that’s right, a crazy person came crashing through my door.”

Smartass.

He gave her a pointed look. “Anything else you might have failed to mention?”

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so.”

“You sure?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Positive.”

He raised a brow. “What about your little run-in with Dmitri?”

The furrow between her brows came back. “Who?”

Drawing his lips into a tight smile, he said, “Derek Miller.”

He saw understanding fill her eyes at the same time a blush hit her cheeks. Why? He ground his teeth. It was bad enough she’d gone on a fucking date with the prick. After all he’d done, did she still have feelings for him? Jealousy sprang up in his chest hot and fierce, taking him by surprise and causing the asshole in him to come out.

“Why didn’t you call me right when it happened? What are you hiding?” he sneered.

She gave him a dirty look—which he deserved, though, hell if he’d admit it—and said, “Maybe you should leave.”

Wrong.

Quick as a flash, he leaned across the space separating them, grasped her under the arms, and hauled her onto his lap. “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you until you tell me what I want to know.”

She struggled, and he tightened his hold on her. “I don’t think I like you very much right now.”

Ouch, that stung, but it didn’t have an influence on his goal. He needed answers. “That’s fine because I like you enough for both of us.”

He felt the fight leave her as her body relaxed and she sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t really mean that.”

---