Basically, he was a man now. And quite an impressive one at that.
“Are you sure?” She took a step closer and tried to assess his injury visually. She looked for swelling and bruising around his eyes but saw none.
“Yes.” He dropped his gaze and she wondered if he’d done it to disguise the pain.
What if she had broken his nose and he simply didn’t want her to feel bad? That would be just like him, or at least it would’ve been just like him.
Her mind was swimming with what she should do, what she should say. The waters were muddy, though, since they’d just been shocked with toxic levels of arousal.
“Nice shoes.”
Her chin dropped, following his stare and her heart did backflips. Marco’s compliment shouldn’t mean so much to her, but it did. Unlike the other compliments she’d been getting tonight, his was personal.
She sucked in a shaky breath. “Thanks.”
“I bet they were two weekers.”
“Yeah. How did you…?” Her eyes shot back up to his and she was met with a knowing stare.
Sydney always broke in her shoes, a little bit every day. She’d once shared her breaking-in method with Marco after telling him about her nightmare eighth grade Blister-Gate debacle. Actually, their ill-fated rooftop dance started because of her breaking-in shoes. She’d found the rooftop spot by accident one day when she’d needed some fresh air after a particularly grueling volunteer shift. From the moment she opened the door and saw the incredible vista it instantly became her favorite location in all of Sunset Canyon. So, one day when Marco was visiting his grandfather, she’d shown him her secret get away.
On the night that he found her, she’d snuck up there to break in the knockoff Manolo Blahnik Cinderella heels she’d bought for their senior prom. She was supposed to go with him. Unfortunately, that never happened. He’d got back together with Avery a week before the formal and to this day, Sydney hadn’t worn those shoes again.
She still fantasized about them, although the designer had changed several times. In high school it had been Manolo, then it was Christian Louboutin and now there was a Jimmy Choo Cinderella heel that was truly the ultimate shoe. They also cost more than her first car so there was that.
“These were actually only one weekers.” She smiled and he lowered the white linen cloth from his face.
She leaned forward and looked for swelling or discoloration, but saw none.
He didn’t move or seem uncomfortable under the scrutiny as he assured her once again, “I’m fine.”
That voice.
It had her entire body tingling and throbbing simultaneously. Especially her southern region. And not just the obvious area between her legs. No, these sensations were deep, like ovary deep. He had the kind of voice that made women want to have his babies.
She cleared her throat. “Yes. You are fine.”
Sydney meant it in the clinical sense but her words were breathless. She sounded like a Hollywood starlet from the 1930s.
Marco didn’t miss it and his lips turned up in amusement.
“Your nose looks fine,” she added, even though she knew the damage had already been done. Clearing her throat, she stood up straight as she opened her mouth and the most small-talky question ever came out. “So…how have you been?”
It felt strange, wrong really, to be asking Marco that question. From their first day in Mr. Maron’s sixth grade homeroom class they’d always had a conversational familiarity. Once the introductions were made there was no awkwardness. It had gone straight from him asking to borrow a pencil to her telling him he had something stuck in his teeth.
There had been an immediate comfort level that had always existed between them. At least there had been.
“You mean since graduation?” He blew out an exaggerated breath. “Well, let’s see…I’d give it a solid Mint Chocolate Chip. What about you?”
She chuckled at his use of their ice cream rating system. Everything from TV shows, to movies, to days they rated on the ice cream scale, since they both generally agreed on their favorite and least favorite flavors. Vanilla was a one and Cookies and Cream was a ten. Mint Chocolate Chip was a seven. Butter Pecan was a two.
They’d come up with the system in seventh grade, but she felt it still held up.
Life had been good but not exactly what she’d imagined. She’d always imagined that she’d be engaged by twenty-seven and since she was twenty-eight, that relationship goal had sailed.
“I’m going to say Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough.” Solid five.
Her score had him searching her eyes. She wasn’t sure if he believed her or not. She just knew that no one looked at her the way Marco did. No one tried to see her anymore and she’d forgotten how that felt.
After a few beats, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and she noticed a tattoo, mid forearm, peeking out from beneath his rolled-up sleeve.
Oh, boy.
If she had to list the top ten things she found sexy, tattoos would make her top three. And Marco had one. At least one. She fought the strongest urge to reach out and run her finger along it.
“Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, huh?”
She snapped her eyes back up and she felt like she’d been caught lusting over him…because she had.
“I’m gonna take that with a grain of salt since you gave Scarface a Cookie Dough rating and that film is clearly Cookies and Cream.”
She laughed. He still hadn’t let that one go. She wasn’t a fan of gangster movies. Give her Die Hard over The Godfather any day.
“I was being generous with my rating,” she joked. “I wanted to give it a Strawberry.”
“Are you trying to break my heart?” he asked with faux-sincerity.
Like I ever could. Sydney chose to ignore his jab. “I’m so glad you’re here. I didn’t think you were going to be here tonight.”
“Really?”
“No. Your name wasn’t on the list.”
“You looked for my name?” His amusement was growing with every word she spoke.
She could feel herself digging a hole and she wasn’t sure how to get out of it. It had always been that way between the two of them. Marco had a way of knocking her off-balance with a look, a smile, a word and he enjoyed doing it. It didn’t take much for him to shake her foundation.
At least that was how it was when they were young. But she was a grown woman now. So even though her brain was reverting back to its puppy love days, she had years of experience and confidence to draw on to counteract the impulse. Or at least she hoped she did.
Staring him straight in his eyes, she said, “Of course I did.”
“Why?” His brow creased with fake ignorance.
It was obvious he was fishing for a compliment. Back in the old days she probably would’ve blushed and stammered over her words. But she wasn’t a teenager anymore. “Because you’re my friend and I wanted to see you.”
His smile grew bigger. Her heart began fluttering at the sight. Marco had also won “Best Smile” and just like his “Best Eyes” title it had been well deserved. His smile didn’t just light up a room, it lit up the entire building. She remembered once when she was leaving gym and before she walked through the double doors she saw Mindy Lawson and Cassie Ender staring in wonder. The girls’ faces were glowing as if they were staring at a real-life angel. Like they were witnessing a miracle.
Sydney would never forget when she heard the sound of Marco’s voice and immediately knew what they were gawking at. When she walked out of the double doors sure enough, there he was joking around with one of his friends from the football team about something that had happened at practice. The girls’ reaction was understandable. A full-fledged, hundred-watt Marco Reyes smile was awe-inspiring and had rendered her speechless on a number of occasions.
This was one of those occasions.
Sydney braced herself for another “why” follow-up but it never came. Instead, Marco simply stood and said, “I wanted to see you, too, f
riend.” And then he held out his arms.
Hello, butterflies. She hadn’t felt them in so long it took her a moment to identify the winged creatures fluttering in her stomach. They’d been on a prolonged sabbatical since high school.
The next thing Sydney knew, the distance between the two friends was closed as she walked into Marco’s open arms. She wasn’t sure if he’d stepped forward or she had, all she knew was that the second she was enveloped in his embrace she was overwhelmed with the awareness that he smelled the exact same way he always had. It was a combination of his soap, fabric softener, and mint.
She inhaled and rested her head on his broad shoulder and although her brain knew that it had been a decade since she’d been hugged by Marco, her body didn’t. Sense memory returned and she melted into his strength as her lips parted and she exhaled softly.
Marco may have been voted “Best Eyes” and “Best Smile” but those weren’t even his greatest assets. He gave the best hugs. They were more than just comfort. They were all-encompassing warmth, they were like the first sip of steaming hot chocolate on a freezing day. They were bone-deep gratification like the first bite of hot, cheesy pizza when you’re starving. They were a euphoric release like gasping after you have a hold-your-breath-under-water contest. They were ultimate relief like the moment she removed the heels that she loved after walking around in them for twelve hours straight.
Being hugged by Marco was all of those things and more and she’d missed it. She’d missed him.
Chapter 4
‡
A hug should not feel this good, this right, and this perfect.
That’s what Marco was telling himself as his arms tightened around Sydney. It wasn’t helping that each and every one of her generous curves were molding against him like a missing piece of a puzzle. Or that he heard her sigh softly as her breath fanned his neck as she exhaled. Or that the silky softness of her long hair was brushing against his bare forearm.
He dropped his chin and his lips lightly touched the crown of her head as he spoke in a low, raspy voice. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve miss—”
Sydney’s response was cut short when the door beside them slammed open. Startled by the loud noise, she jumped from his arms as two servers rushed past them into the kitchen.
Sydney pulled her full bottom lip between her teeth as her chin dipped and her eyes were cast to the floor. “I guess we should probably head back in.”
“Oh…um…”
The last place that Marco wanted to go was back into the reunion filled with people he had no interest in knowing anymore. He’d much rather continue the reunion he was having right now. He was about to ask if Sydney would be interested in going to The Sunset Diner and getting a milkshake and fries. It had been her favorite combo in high school. He’d never understood the appeal of dipping french fries into ice cream but she’d loved it.
“Unless?” She motioned to the door that had smacked him in the face. “Were you going to…” Her head turned back toward him and he saw the most adorable crinkle in her brow as she asked, “Are you leaving?”
Instead of telling her that he had planned on escaping but now wild horses couldn’t drag him away, he shook his head and held out his arm. “Shall we?”
The corner of her lips lifted and the smile reached all the way to her glossy, amber-tinted eyes. He could get lost for hours staring into them, he had gotten lost for hours in them. They were so expressive. The depths of her emotions were hidden there and the longer he looked the more he uncovered.
She reached for the door, but he beat her to it. “I think you better let me. For my own safety.”
“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” she said, but the twinkle in her eye told a different story.
They’d barely made it through the doors when she wrapped her fingers around his arm and squeezed. “Oh! Have you gone over there yet?”
Marco turned his head to where she was indicating and saw that in the far-right corner of the ballroom there was a sign that read: “Memory Lane.” There stood a maze of Plexiglas sheets hung from the ceilings covered in photos highlighting their four years at Crestview.
“Nope.” He’d rather take a long walk off a short pier than one down memory lane.
It wasn’t that he’d had a terrible time at Crestview. His high school experience was idyllic. He just didn’t want to relive it.
Her fingers squeezed. “I’ve wanted to go over there since I got here.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Her lips pursed as her shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I didn’t want to look like a dork looking at the pictures alone.”
She smiled as she tugged on his arm and took a step forward. He didn’t budge. Not because he didn’t want to go. His feet just weren’t taking cues from his brain at the moment.
Marco watched as Sydney’s eyelids closed and opened and her lips moved in what felt like slow motion. Time was standing still.
A small flash of confusion flickered in her gorgeous gaze, but it was swiftly replaced with a glimmer of mischief. She dropped her arm and shrugged. “Never mind. Don’t come.”
Then she walked away. It took Marco a beat for the shock of what he’d just experienced to wear off, but the moment it did his feet started moving.
He was by her side in seconds trying to figure out a way to explain his odd behavior when he looked down at her and saw that she was rocking a full-on cat-that-ate-the-canary grin.
“What?” he asked.
“It still works.” Satisfaction dripped from every word she spoke as her nose crinkled.
“What works?” He didn’t have a clue what she was referring to.
“Nothing,” she sing-songed innocently. “Nothing at all.”
That reaction triggered several flashbacks in his mind.
Their teenage selves sitting on her couch after studying and her casually stating, “You wouldn’t like Sex in the City, so you shouldn’t watch it.”
So he watched.
The mock concern that filled her tone after the last day of freshman year when they’d walked home. “I don’t think you can handle a sunrise hike up to Sunset Cliffs. So you should probably sleep in on Saturday morning.”
So he hiked.
After he’d gone and seen her favorite movie a dozen times at the drive-in theater the summer between junior and senior year only to have had her inform him on the last night it was playing, “You can’t go to the drive-in movies with me tonight to see The Princess Bride because you’re just going to fall asleep. And you snore.”
So he went and stayed awake.
It went back a lot further than that though. One of Marco’s first memories was when he was three years old and he and his mom were baking cookies. He could clearly recall standing in the kitchen and his mom telling him not to touch the front of the oven because it was hot. Before she’d told him not to touch the oven door he’d had no desire to, but as soon as the words left her mouth he had an overwhelming impulse to do just that.
So he did.
And that was his first visit to the emergency room. Throughout his childhood he’d ended up at the hospital a dozen more times due to his adrenaline junkie tendencies but the first time had been purely because his mom had told him not to do something and then he’d had to do it.
Marco had made the mistake of sharing with Sydney his innate impulse to do the opposite of whatever someone told him to do. She’d always seemed to enjoy thinking that she could use reverse psychology on him when the truth was, he was the Westley to her Princess Buttercup. Her wish was his command.
But she’d always gotten a kick out of thinking she was somehow gaming the system and he’d never had the heart to tell her otherwise. By the time they’d reached the corner of the room he’d decided he wasn’t going to burst her bubble now, after all these years.
“Oh, look,” Sydney said as soon as they reached the first hanging display and her eagle eye spotted a picture of the two of them.
<
br /> She lifted her hand, running her finger along the edges of a photo. It was of the two of them in the library huddled over a text book. It must’ve been twelfth grade, because that was when she tutored him. He’d failed Spanish his freshman, sophomore, and junior years and had to complete two years of Spanish as a senior. If it weren’t for Sydney, who was fluent in Spanish, French, and Italian, he wouldn’t have graduated at all.
It was always a source of embarrassment that he’d never learned his father’s native language. Half of the blood running through Marco was Latin. His dad liked to joke that his son may not have mastered the language but he had the lover part down.
Sydney let out a slow breath of air and he felt the exhale like a physical brush along his arm. With a sigh she said, “I still get a thrill whenever I hold a highlighter.”
Marco had forgotten her borderline obsession with highlighting things. It was just another one of her quirky little idiosyncrasies that made her so damn adorable.
He took a step forward and studied the photo. Rays of sunlight poured in from the window they had been seated in front of. The light shining in on them gave her strawberry-blonde hair an ethereal glow. Her expressive eyes were staring up at him as he pointed at something in his notebook.
It blew Marco’s mind that he’d ever gotten anything accomplished around Sydney. Between her intoxicating whiskey-tinted eyes, plump cherry-stained lips, silky golden-red hair, and smooth china-doll skin, she was the definition of beguilement. And that was just due to her external beauty, it didn’t even take her disarming charm, insightful intelligence, or razor-sharp wit into the equation. Hell, as a grown man just being around her was driving him to complete and utter distraction.
“¿Cómo está tu español actualmente?” Her caramel eyes danced with feistiness as her eyebrow rose.
He understood enough to know that she’d asked how his Spanish was these days, but he still responded that it was no good, because that was about the extent of what he’d retained. “No Bueno.”
Fire and Romance Page 4