Page 100 of Who I Really Am

Okay, turns out I can’t help myself. “I am sorry for what I said earlier. I’m realizing lately that I’m a very insensitive person.”

He shoulder-bumps me. “Eh, you’re not that bad. And I didn’t tell you that story to chastise you.”

“Then why?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Just thinking, I guess.”

Avoiding other subjects? He doesn’t have to. I can be his sounding board. It’s the least I can do.

“Thanks for stopping me from tearing into the kid.”

I glance over. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I wasthisclose to going ape on him, Lise. Your touch…it grounded me.”

Oh. I swallow a rising lump in my throat.

Marco emits a groan. “I meanAnnalise.”

I search his face in the moonlight. “Why do you keep doing that? That’s at least the third time you’ve corrected yourself after calling me Lise. Everyone calls me that. I don’t mind.”

He’s quiet long enough that my stomach tightens. He still has Rachel’s t-shirt in his hands, and he clenches it into a ball. “Kyle called you Lise, and I didn’t like the way he said it, so I promised myself I wouldn’t call you that again.”

A small flash of pain, a larger charge of humiliation, and then, “That’s so sweet.”

With a small chuckle, he tilts, bumping shoulders again. “I have my moments.”

Indeed he does. “But it’s also unnecessary. I don’t mind the nickname. Most people call me Lise.”

“Man, I wanted to turn that creep’s face into hamburger meat.”

“And I would have gladly looked the other way if you had…but,Annaliseis a mouthful.”

“And a handful,” he deadpans.

“Hey now!” I side kick his tennis shoe.

“I could call you Al.”

“Yes, but why would you?” I lift an eyebrow that likely needs some attention after weeks of neglect.

“Anna. Lise. A-L…Al.”

“Gotta say that’s not my favorite.”

“Okay…how about…Allie?”

I squint at him, needing to see his face. He’s teasing, has to be, yet a seriousness—tenderness—has crept into his voice. My heart rate kicks up a notch. “I-I could live with that one.”

“Okay then…Alliewill be my name for you.”

Emphasis onmy?

Marco is closer than before, his warm breath dancing across my skin, emerald eyes glowing under the desert moon, stopping my breath.

We haven’t kissed since the night we met, for good and varied reasons.

I touch his chest. His fingers skim my cheek. My lips remember the feel of his, and the rest of me will never forget the rush of comfort in his arms.

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