Part 14 (2/2)

Finally, when his guitar stilled, the last notes ringing out with a bit of reverberation, she walked across the room and moved in front of him. Marco looked up at her. ”Hey,” she said.

”Hey.” He set the guitar into its stand and leaned over to turn the amp off. ”I thought you were in bed.”

”I can't sleep.” She sat down next to him on a stool that matched his. ”Look, I'm not trying to be a brat. I'm honestly trying to leave my brat days behind me. So do you understand why I have to leave?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. ”Yeah. I don't like it, but I do get it.” He gave her a soft smile. ”And I like you even more because of it.”

Not sure what to say, or how to bridge the gap that had grown between them, Allison touched his knee. ”Do you ever talk to your mom?”

”My mom?” he asked in surprise. ”No. She can't change, and I got tired of waiting for a miracle. I haven't seen her in ten years.”

”I'm sorry.”

”Don't feel sorry for me. I don't like that any more than you do.”

He was right on that count, so she couldn't really argue. She just hated the idea of leaving him alone. ”If I had my own money it would be different. If I had the lottery money, maybe...”

”I could find you a job. Then you would have money.”

”But you would always have more. I would always be indebted to you. And I couldn't travel with you. I'd be tied to LA, to a city I don't know, with no friends, while you do your thing.”

”I know.” Marco reached for her, took her hand, and threaded his fingers through hers. ”And I'm sorry for before, for not being safe. I don't want to hurt you. That's the last thing I want to do.”

Allison felt the burn of tears again behind her eyes. This was hopeless and it was d.a.m.n sad. He was the first guy she'd felt... anything with in forever, and it was doomed. They couldn't even go beyond the beginning. There was no middle, and here they were, already at the end. ”I know.”

”Can I sleep next to you tonight? I don't mean s.e.x. I just want to hold you.” His voice was rough, raw.

There was no way she could say no to that. It might kill her tomorrow, but she needed that tonight. ”Yes.”

He kissed her hand. ”Thank you. For everything.”

”Yeah, you too.” Her vision blurred. They were already saying goodbye. ”Come to bed with me, Marco.”

”I don't want to walk through that crowd of people. I'm just going to lock the door to the bas.e.m.e.nt and we can sleep on the couch. It pulls out.”

”We don't need to pull it out. I want you close to me.” She didn't even care how needy that sounded.

She sat there on the stool, feeling emotions she didn't want to feel. Emotions she had sworn she wouldn't. Where was her old friend, snark, when she needed her? Nowhere to be found. Marco came back and he took her hand, pulled her off the stool. He hugged her in a way she didn't think she'd ever been hugged. It was firm, solid, intense. Like he didn't want to let her go.

”We'll always have the Empire State Building,” she said.

He gave a soft laugh. ”Yes, we will. And I'll never look at my pool deck the same way ever again.”

”Why are we so ridiculously morose?” she asked, even as she wrapped her arms tighter around his middle, pressing her body against his everywhere she could.

”Because we're friends and we're not going to see each other for a while,” he murmured into her hair, before kissing her temple.

”Yeah,” she said, knowing most likely they would never see each other again. It was safer that way, for both of them.

”I have to tell you why I stopped drinking.”

She stiffened a little. ”Why?”

”Because after a show in Austin I woke up in bed with Robert's wife. I have never felt more horrible in my entire life, and every time I look at him I am disgusted all over again. He's my friend, my bandmate, and I had s.e.x with his wife and I don't even remember it. I quit the booze cold turkey that day. I felt like s.h.i.+t physically for three days, then I felt great, better than I'd felt in years. But inside? I'm still a little f.u.c.ked up.”

Allison could hear the pain in his voice. She squeezed him harder and pulled back so she could look up at him. ”I'm sorry. That can't be easy to live with. But at least you attacked the problem head-on.”

She didn't know that Marco and, frankly, she didn't want to know him. It served as another reminder of how easy it was to lose yourself in the world of fame and money. It could take a good man and twist him into something else entirely. But clearly the incident had been the ice bucket of water he had needed to turn his life back around, and she respected that. She hoped she was woman enough to do the same with her botched lottery win/loss.

”What I do now can't ever change what I've done, and I'm always going to hate myself for it.”

”Maybe you need to forgive yourself.”

Marco studied her, brus.h.i.+ng her hair off her face. ”And maybe you need to do the same thing.”

She wanted to argue, to say that she wasn't beating herself up, but she knew it wasn't true. She had been for years. Maybe that was what meeting Marco had been all about-he was a mirror for her to see herself better and move forward.

And maybe she was morphing into Jamie. What the f.u.c.k? It was like all her thoughts were being hijacked. She didn't like feeling so introspective.

”Maybe we need to have a little less conversation right now.”

His nostrils flared. ”Maybe we do.”

Marco slid his arm under her a.s.s and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her using only one arm. The man clearly hit the gym, and that was hot. She was already peeling her T-s.h.i.+rt off as he dropped her down onto the sofa. There was no bothering to pull it out into a bed. Marco just filled the s.p.a.ce over top of her, and took his time exploring her body with his tongue, his hands. Allison listened to the rush of her own urgent breathing, and stared down at Marco's head as he laved his tongue over her c.l.i.t. This was the last time. Truly the last time.

She had to leave. But right now, she had to release the tension he was creating inside her tight body.

When her o.r.g.a.s.m swept over her, she made no sound, just gripped his hair tightly, threw back her own head, and let the ecstasy consume her. Then he was inside her, lifting her foot onto his shoulder so that even on the couch, he could get a deep, full penetration.

They locked eyes and never let go.

Marco held her all night, and in the morning, he dropped her off at the airport himself in his sports car. She didn't know what kind of car, because she never paid attention to anything automotive, but he didn't pull away after he hugged and kissed her. He stood there, in the departures lane, ignoring the honks and noise, as she walked into the airport. When she glanced back through the gla.s.s doors, he was still there, watching. She couldn't see his eyes behind his sungla.s.ses.

It would be easier to walk away from him if she were angry. If she could yell and scream and fling expletives and self-righteousness at him. If she hated him.

But she didn't.

She'd fallen in love with him.

Allison waved. He lifted his hand and waved back.

Then she went back to New York, basically shattered.

Marco lasted two whole weeks before he called Allison. He said he was going to leave her alone, let her do her own thing. But every day he thought about her, and every time he was tempted to text her. He wrote in the studio, he socialized, he acted the part he was supposed to, but Allison was never far from his thoughts and he had come to the startling realization that he had gone and fallen in love with her. The one woman he couldn't actually had. That was a cruel irony.

He resisted calling until he figured enough time had pa.s.sed that he had a legitimate excuse to contact her. He'd been in the studio all day and was taking a break. Given it was six his time, he figured he would definitely be able to catch her between work and bed-that is, if she had a new job yet.

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