Page 101 of Who I Really Am

His mouth finds mine. I snag a fistful of t-shirt, and his strong hands cradle my face, his lips magic on mine. I melt when they slide to my ear. His fingers fork into my hair, or try to, and I hear frustration as they wrestle with the elastic band until my hair hangs free, free for his exploration. Collecting a handful, he clasps it, pressing it back against my head as he hauls me closer, his mouth returning to mine. My thoughts coalesce into a single mantra:Marco…Marco.

But in a blink, I’m breathing air again, not kisses. Not Marco. The truck rocks, cold air suffusing the void he filled.

He stalks to the edge of the road, standing there, square and rigid. If the street were the ocean, I think he might wade in and drift away. I’ve added to his burdens, haven’t I? I’ve turned into a walking disaster. I should have a pilot car leading the way, warning others on the path:move over, wide load.

Any other woman, he could enjoy the comfort she would offer. Me, I can’t offer it because I don’t do that sort of thing, and even if I did, I’ve got the whole little-sister complication going on. I don’t care what his feelings about Tripp are at the moment, I see the same sort of loyalty in him that I well know exists in my brother. Marco won’t cross that line with me. He won’t.

I can do the right thing here, be the good little martyr and walk away. I don’t have to be one of his problems. I’m not stupid. We’re a combustible mix. Gas and flame. Weave in Marco’s honor and my principles and a complication is what I become. It’s not vanity, but I’m a temptation, and I know it.

Likewise, I’m sure.

I slide off the tailgate, careful of the spiky gravel, but a second time, he stops my intended retreat.

“You’re not making this easy, you know.”

Yes, I know.

Huddled into the oversized sweatshirt, stinging, I nod. “I know you want to be loyal to Tripp—”

He makes a harsh sound, perhaps in lieu of swearing. “This isn’t about Tripp.”

I consider for a moment. “Okay…then, thank you for respecting my beliefs. Me.” I shouldn’t have put him in this situation.

“So help me, it’s not about that either.”

Oh. Then I’m not sure how to take any of what he’s saying.

“It’s about starting things I can’t finish.” His voice is as rough as the shards under my feet.

He approaches. I feel my cheeks heat. No, I most definitely can’t finish what I thinkIstarted. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I don’t mean to be a tease.”

That gets an unamused laugh. “Don’t be so literal, Annalise. I’m talking far more broadly than a night.”

Then color me confused because he’s talking in code, and I feel stupid and somehow delinquent for not understanding. “Then whatisit about?”

Hooking his thumbs on his pockets, he pierces me with his eyes. “Nice of you to finally ask. Better late than never, right?”

For the first time since we’ve known each other, his anger is directed at me. Not at Tylon. Not at Kyle. Not his sister.Me.

I edge nearer the truck.

He hauls his palms down his face. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. You didn’t do anything. I’m just…it’s…” I barely catch his next words. “I’m a little scared right now.”

Scared? No, not Marco.

He squeezes his eyes tight, wincing.

Marco Gonzalez, tough-guy, scared? This doesn’t compute, but as much as I’m certain he wishes for a do-over with his words, their sincerity is unquestionable.

Touching gets me—us—in trouble, but I can’t help myself. I lay my hand on his arm, feeling the muscles bunch below the surface, hoping he’s not so fed up with me that he shoves it away. “Talk to me.”

I hold my breath while he weighs something out. He sits down again, takes his phone from his pocket, and thumbs it open. Tapping the browser app, he hands me the phone as a previously loaded page displays.

Sliding onto the tailgate beside him, I begin to read.

CHAPTER 28

Annalise

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