I felt cold, remembering the moment well.

“When we met… at first the situation with Jenks just reminded me of Jamal and the girl. It didn’t matter if I didn’t know you. I was there, I saw that shit happening and I knew what Jenks was like, so I wasn’t going to stand there and let that happen to you. I walked you home because I didn’t want him to circle back on you.

“I stood outside the school gates to make sure you were okay because after I walked you home that one time I thought you deserved someone looking out for you. You were a funny, smart, kind girl, and you looked at me in a way no one had before. Like I had something interesting to say and you wanted to hear all about it. That felt better than you can imagine. I wanted to feel that way again. I got addicted to feeling that way whenever you were around. I even started hoping for reasons for you to miss that bus home. I let something happen that I thought I shouldn’t have. I let us get close.

“I didn’t want you to love me, Hannah, because I was terrified I’d hurt you, and, yeah, I know that sounds f**ked up now since I hurt you by walking out on you, but at the time I thought I was doing you a favor.”

“A favor?” I guffawed. “I thought I was in love with you. I let myself be vulnerable with you in every way I could and you scrambled off me as if you couldn’t bear to be near me. You broke my heart.”

Marco clasped his hands into a fist, resting his chin on them. “I know,” he whispered back. “I’ve never regretted anything more in my life. It was f**ked up and stupid and if I could take that moment back I would.”

“All of it?” I found myself asking.

His eyes drifted to my lips and then back up to my eyes again. “No,” he replied, his voice thick. “Just the part where I left you.”

“If you feel that way, why didn’t you come back to me when you returned to Scotland?”

“Because I didn’t feel that way then. Nothing magically changed when Nonno died, Hannah. I still felt worthless for a very long time.”

“When did it change? Why?”

Marco’s gaze lowered and he gave a tiny shake of his head. “I don’t know. It was nothing. Everything. I grew up, I worked hard, and I began to find value in myself. Somewhere, bit by bit, day by day, I found self-worth. I found it by proving that bastard wrong.”

“I’m glad you found that,” I told him honestly. “But that still doesn’t tell me why after that you didn’t come find me.”

“Because by then years had passed, Hannah. I didn’t know what to say and I didn’t know if I could stand to have you look at me like I was nothing after it took me so long to feel about myself the way you used to look at me.”

“Until the wedding?”

“Until the wedding,” he agreed, heat entering his eyes now. “It was a shock to see you there, but seeing you again… God, I thought I knew how much I missed you until I saw you again. I know I came on strong trying to get you to talk to me, and I’m sorry if I freaked you out… but you didn’t look at me like I was worthless at the wedding. You looked pissed, but it wasn’t this f**king awful thing I’d built up in my head. With that fear gone, I just really needed the chance to apologize and I was willing to do anything I could to get that chance.”

Something inside me, something I wanted desperately to ignore, exalted at his confession. “And now that you’ve explained everything… what do you want from me?”

“Forgiveness,” he answered sincerely. The sincerity quickly dissipated under the weight of the intensity that entered his expression. That look filled the whole room until I felt stifled by it. “And a second chance to get to know you.”

With my body physically responding to him, I narrowed my eyes and fought to ignore that response. “In what way?”

“Not just as friends, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I jerked back in my seat at his blunt reply. “You’re not even going to pretend to want to be just friends so you can try a sneak attack for more?”

Marco stared at me with serious determination. “I’m not going to hide that I want to get to know who you are now. I’m also not going to hide the fact that I think you’re still the classiest, most f**king beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, or the fact that I remember the taste of you and it still makes me hard.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“Hannah?” He frowned at my silence.

I reached for my beer and took a long swallow, trying to collect myself.

“Hannah?”

My eyes clashed with his. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to say ‘Marco, I forgive you and, yes, I want to get to know you again.’”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” I whispered.

For a minute I thought he wasn’t going to say anything, but suddenly he stood up. I tilted my head back, watching warily as he strode around the table to tower over me. I sucked in my breath as he leaned down, his heat hitting me, his cologne wafting over me, and I couldn’t suppress the shiver that cascaded down my spine when he pressed his warm lips to my cheek. My eyes round with surprise, I gaped at him as he straightened and said, “I’ll give you a couple of days to think about it.”

CHAPTER 11

I stared woefully at the wall in front of me decorated with Cole’s tattoo art. The buzz of the tattoo needle next door played a sound track to Saturday lunch with my best friend. Cole was working at INKarnate and I’d stopped by with food so we could hang out on his lunch break.

I could feel his eyes burning into me.

Giving in to his silent question, I turned to meet his gaze.

He sipped his coffee and continued to stare at me without saying anything.

“What?” I shrugged before biting into my sandwich.

“As grateful as I am for you bringing me lunch, I am wondering if I should count on silence from you from now on?”

Swallowing my food, I rolled my eyes. “What, we can’t just sit in comfortable silence?”

“You didn’t come here to sit in comfortable silence.” Cole relaxed into his seat, putting his feet up on the part of the tattoo chair my arse wasn’t covering. “You came here to talk, so talk.”

“But that would make me the whiniest best friend on the planet.”

“I’ll take whiny over mute.”

I snorted, and turned slightly to face him. “You know exactly what I’m going to say.”

“Hmm.” He crossed his arms over his chest with a mock pensive look on his face. “Is it Marco in the drawing room with the candlestick?”

“Har-de-har-har.” I made a face at him.

Cole grinned unrepentantly.

“I had dinner with Marco a week ago.”

My friend’s eyebrows rose. “And I’m just hearing about this now?”

“Well, I’ve been taking some time, going over and over everything he said. He wants a second chance. At everything.”

“Everything as in… a relationship, not just friendship?”

“Yes.”

“Did he explain why he left?”

“His grandfather died. He went back to the States to be with his grandmother. He has a lot of self-esteem issues because of his grandfather and he just thought… basically he thought I was too good to be in his life and that’s why he never told me he was leaving, and that’s why he never got in touch when he came back.”

“So why the change of heart now?”

I sighed. “He’s changed, Cole. He’s not the guy he was back then, and he says he misses me.”

It was Cole’s turn to sigh. “I’m just going to say to you what I said before. Everyone deserves a second chance. It’s not like what he did was so awful. He left without saying good-bye, but you weren’t together. I think you’re making this more complicated than it is.”

We bloody well had sex!

I frowned. “We were friends, and he knew I cared about him.”

“And he explained his reasons. You may not like them, but that’s the way it is sometimes. We all do stupid things. Marco is trying to make up for his mistakes. He’s been pulling out all the stops to see you. Surely that counts for something.”

Yes – I want it to count for something.

I need it to count for something.

“I just don’t want to get hurt again.”

Cole surprised me with a warm smile. “Then just try the whole friends thing first. It’s not like anyone is forcing you to offer him more than that.”

“Hannah.”

I shivered involuntarily at the rich sound of Marco’s voice in my ear. My hand tightened around my phone. “Hi.”

“I’m glad you called. I was beginning to think I’d need to go to Plan B.”

“Plan B?”

“Much like Plan A but with increased work hours.”

I smiled despite myself. “Well, no need. Your stalking days are over.”

“That sounds like good news.” He practically purred it, and my eyelashes fluttered closed before I could stop them.

Damn him!

“Just as friends!” I found myself blurting out.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m willing to try to be friends again.”

He was silent a moment.

“Marco?”

“Friends,” he finally answered. “But with the hope of becoming more.”

The butterflies were back in my belly. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no.”

“Fine. Friends will do for now.”

“Marco —”

“You can’t take it back. We’re friends. We’re officially spending time together.”

I sighed, willing the crazy fluttering inside me to die down. “How does next weekend sound?”

He hesitated. “I can’t do next weekend, I’m sorry. How about this Tuesday, after work, for drinks? I swapped shifts with a colleague. He’s doing my Wednesday shift if I do tomorrow for him.”

“That’s good for you. You can have a drink and not have to worry about work the next day. However, a weeknight doesn’t really work for me.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not like you’re surrounded by heavy machinery. We’ll have one drink. Or are you too old to go out on a weeknight?” he teased.

I grimaced. “You’re such a child. Fine, Tuesday night. One drink.”

Walking into the bar on George Street on Tuesday evening, I almost tripped over my own feet at the expression on Marco’s face when he saw me.

He stood up from the small booth he was sitting at, his eyes moving from my face, slowly down my body and back up again. The funny thing was there was nothing much to see except for my legs ending in a pair of fur-trimmed ankle boots. I was wearing my favorite green military-style winter coat with fur-trim cuffs. It fitted my body well, but it wasn’t exactly sexy.

Marco’s gaze made me feel sexy.

Damn him.

When I reached him he surprised me by bending slightly to press a kiss to my cheek. My cheek was rosy and cold from the freezing wind outside, but as soon as his lips touched my skin a blaze of heat radiated out from the spot. I must have looked befuddled because he seemed amused and pleased with himself.

Self-consciously I shrugged out of my coat, glad I was wearing a conservative navy wool dress underneath. However, I might as well have been wearing a nightdress for how hot I felt in close quarters with him.

Sliding into the booth beside him, my whole body hyper-aware of his, I knew I had to at least be honest with myself: I had never stopped being attracted to Marco and I’d once been in love with him. Despite the complicated past between us, despite the truths I was withholding, I knew that I could never just be friends with him on the inside, even if I could pretend it on the outside.

Our arms brushed and sparks shot through me like I’d touched a live wire. I couldn’t stamp out that feeling of excitement. That feeling was utterly addictive. From the age of fourteen until the age of seventeen, I’d had that feeling inside me whenever I was around Marco.

I’d missed it.

“How are you?” I gave him a small, hopefully platonic smile.

“I’m good.” His gaze was intense on me, his eyes deliberately trying to hook mine.

For the first time ever with him, I felt shy. I glanced away quickly, searching the bar.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked.

“Sure. I’ll have a glass of rosé, please.”

As soon as he slid out of the booth my breathing steadied.

You are being such an idiot, I berated myself. This was Marco. So what if he was hot? When I was younger, I’d still been able to carry on a conversation with him!

Pull it together, Nichols.

My eyes followed him as he strode up to the quiet bar, powerful, graceful. He wore a dark blue knit sweater with a shawl collar and a pair of dark blue jeans. He was effortlessly stylish and comfortable with himself in a way he hadn’t been when we were at school.

Momentarily sidetracked from my study of him, I picked up on the lust aimed at Marco emanating from the other end of the bar. Two women sat on barstools, speaking quietly to each other as they watched him with hungry eyes and come-hither smiles.

Marco wasn’t even paying attention.

I relaxed somewhat at his utter lack of interest, jealousy slowly seeping out of me.

Yup. Definitely not just friends.

Damn him.

“So,” he said as he slipped back into the booth beside me, putting my wineglass gently down in front of me as he lightly gripped his pint of lager, “How was work?”