Chapter 3
‡
The lesser of two evils. That’s what this dance with his ex was.
Fifteen minutes was all Marco was able to take at the table with his friends. The time limit that he could tolerate being around people he used to spend hours, days, even weekends with had dwindled down to exactly one quarter of an hour. He wasn’t sure if it was them that had changed or him.
As if reading his mind, Avery’s eyes narrowed as her arms wrapped around his neck. “You’re different now.”
“Am I?” Marco didn’t feel different, but it was obvious something was.
“You are.” Her eyes searched his face, as if she were trying to find clues as to what the differences were. “You’re serious now.”
He wasn’t, but he understood why his ex would think that.
In high school, he’d partied a lot more than he’d wanted to because he’d wanted to fit in. He’d always felt like an outsider, because he was. Partying helped him feel like he belonged but it was never really his thing, it was never who he was.
“What happened?” Her expression grew more irritated than curious or concerned, but that was Avery in a nut shell.
“I grew up.” He loved a good time, but not to the degree that his friends still did.
“Yes, you did.” Her eyes sparked with a familiar gleam. That gleam used to excite him because he knew where it was headed.
But now, it held no appeal whatsoever.
Avery’s hands ran over his shoulders. “You know that James and I are separated.”
“You mentioned that.” Right after she’d told him how much she’d missed him and commented on how much he’d “filled out.”
“And you’re not here with anyone.”
“No, I’m not. But I’m also not interested.”
His blunt statement didn’t seem to register with her. Taking no for an answer wasn’t her style. When Avery wanted something, she was relentless.
“Come on, don’t you ever think about me?” Her fingers played with the hair at the base of his neck as she stepped into his body, pressing against him. “Don’t you miss me?”
“No. Not really.”
The song ended and Marco stepped back. “Thanks for the dance.”
His heel slid easily on the wood floor as he turned, but he didn’t make it even one step when he felt long fingers wrap around his wrist.
“One more.” Avery wasn’t asking, she was telling.
Persistent didn’t scratch the surface of his ex when she set her mind to something.
He’d been blunt and it hadn’t worked. He didn’t want to be cruel but when Avery was in this mode, she was formidable. Thankfully, his phone buzzed in his pocket and when he pulled it out he saw that it was his mom calling.
“I need to take this call.”
“Find me when you’re done,” she insisted, still looking at him like he was a steak and she was a starving woman.
A simple nod of his chin was all it took for her to release his hand. He strode across the dance floor and slipped out onto the balcony that wrapped around the hotel and ran up over the edge of the cliffs that overlooked the ocean.
As he stepped outside, the sea air filled his lungs and the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks below echoed through the darkened night. There wasn’t much he missed about Sunset Canyon, but the salty smell of the ocean and the rhythmic pulse of the water were definitely things he wished he had in Hope Falls.
And Sydney. He missed the hell out of Sydney.
He pressed the answer button and lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey Ma, is everything okay? How’s Pops?”
“Yes, everything’s fine. Pops is fine. Are you having fun?”
He had to grin at her enthusiasm. “It’s fine,” he teased. “I don’t think I’m going to be here that much longer, though. I can pick you up some food on the way back to the hospit—”
“Oh no, don’t worry about coming back tonight. The nurses were just here and they gave Pops something that they said would knock him out. He needs his rest. No visitors.”
“Did they say that? Did they kick you out?” If his mom wanted to be at her father’s bedside, that’s exactly where she should be.
“They didn’t.” She chuckled. “He did.”
“So, he’s feeling better.” Pops could out-stubborn a mule and did not believe in negotiation. It was his way—there was no highway to take.
Marco had spent a good deal of time with his grandpa growing up. When his parents got divorced, he and his mom had moved to Sunset Canyon and into an apartment above his grandpa’s garage.
Every morning Pops would wake Marco up to run five miles before school and put him through military drills after school. Literal military drills. His grandfather had been a drill sergeant in the Army for eight years.
After leaving the service, he’d gone on to coach college football until he was forced to retire fifteen years ago due to being diagnosed with chronic obstructive pulmonary disorder, a progressive and degenerative lung disease.
“He’s just as ornery as ever and I’m headed home to get some sleep. Don’t worry about us. Stay and enjoy yourself.”
He wasn’t worried about them, well he was, but that’s not why he wanted to leave.
“Hey, have you seen Sydney yet? Sydney Prince?” his mom asked in a conspiratorial whisper.
“Sydney Prince?” he repeated, not quite sure he understood.
His mom had known Sydney because she volunteered at the hospital when they were in high school and his grandpa had been in and out quite a bit. But his mom hadn’t mentioned her in years. He had no idea why she was bringing her up now. “No. Why?”
“Well, she’s been tagged in several Facebook photos from the reunion and she looks absolutely stunning.”
Facebook. Of course. His mother was addicted.
“That’s what I hear but I haven’t seen her.”
“Well, if you do, tell her I said hello.”
“Will do.” He was taking off so he doubted he’d be able to pass the message along. “See you soon.”
“Not too soon.” His mother made one more play for him to stay. “Love you, honey.”
“Love you too, Ma.”
He hung up the phone and took one last look out over the cliffs. As much as he loved living in the mountains, he had to admit that he missed the ocean being in his backyard. As he rested his hands on the railing, he realized his curiosity to see Sydney was at an all-time high. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to take another lap, or two, around the reunion.
Behind him, the door opened as a group of four stepped out onto the balcony. He vaguely recognized them, and so he said a brief hello as he walked past them to return to the ballroom. A cursory glance of the area didn’t reveal any sign of Sydney.
His eyes searched for golden-red hair and big brown eyes that he’d never been able to shake. He never went more than a few months without dreaming about her while he was sleeping. And he never went more than a few days without daydreaming about her while he was awake.
As he scanned across the ballroom the anticipation to lay eyes on her grew with each moment that passed. In the back of his mind, he knew that his mounting expectation was ridiculous. He was setting himself up to be disappointed. The last thing he needed to see was that she’d somehow grown into a woman that was miraculously even more beautiful than the girl he’d known.
She was already the bar to which his brain subconsciously compared every woman he met. He tried not to, but each time he met someone, even someone he was interested in—especially someone he was interested in—he would rate them on the Sydney Scale. Were they as funny as Sydney? As sexy as Sydney? As sweet as Sydney? As quirky as Sydney? As smart as Sydney?
No. That was always the answer. No, they weren’t. He didn’t do it intentionally. She’d left an imprint on his soul. If he saw her again, he feared the bar would rise higher and the imprint would be even deeper.
Part of him wanted to see her again but another part of him knew that there was no point. Like he had with his other classmates, he’d kept up with her online. Her profile was sparse and there were barely any pictures of her on Facebook but he did know some basic info.
She lived in Los Angeles. She was a nurse. And she was in a relationship with a doctor.
It was strange to think that a girl that he’d never even kissed had been the only one that had broken his heart, but it was the truth. Sydney had friend-zoned him before he’d even known what the term meant. And from the first time he’d heard her tell people that they were “just friends” until the last time he’d heard it, those words were like a chisel to his heart. She hadn’t broken his heart in one fatal blow, she’d chipped away at it over years.
The constricting sensation deflated as he set off across the room. He decided to forgo saying his goodbyes. He didn’t need his friends giving him a hard time about taking off, he just wanted to get out of there.
He’d come. He’d seen. He’d reunited. His mom could rest easy that her son had not missed out on any milestone.
His long strides were driven by a renewed determination as he headed toward the service entrance of the ballroom. The anticipation that had filled him moments ago was now replaced with resolve. He was headed straight to the door that led to the kitchen and back exit. He was reaching for the door when it unexpectedly opened and smacked him in the face.
“Uhh,” he grunted as his eyes shut. Flashes of tiny lights burst behind his lids as searing pain spiked up from his nose.
“Oh my god!” A woman shrieked. “I’m so sorry! Are you…?! Marco…?”
Since his eyes were shut he couldn’t see the woman who spoke his name in a reverent whisper, but he didn’t need his vision to recognize who she was. He forced his eyes open and was still seeing stars as the woman standing in front of him came into focus.
Sydney Prince.
She couldn’t be categorized as the one that got away, because he’d never had a chance with her, much less one he’d missed. Still, for some reason, that’s the relationship file that his brain put her in.
Her long hair framed her porcelain skin. Large doe eyes stared up at him, searching his face as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. He had a sneaking suspicion he was doing the same. His eyes were locked with hers as his entire body tensed with awareness.
“Marco you’re…” Her voice trailed off as her ruby lips parted before her eyes widened and she gasped, “…bleeding. You’re bleeding.”
Her declaration came at the same time he felt something drip from his nose. Marco tilted his head forward and reached up to press his fingers along the soft tissue to stop the bleeding.
Out of all the things that he’d imagined her saying to him if they ever saw each other again, Marco, you’re bleeding was one he’d never thought of.
*
Blood.
Seeing the bright red drops snapped Sydney out of her momentarily stunned state. Her brain acted on instinct as she grabbed a cloth napkin off a nearby service table and lifted it up to his nose.
He took it from her as she lamely asked, “Are you okay?”
Obviously, he wasn’t okay. He was bleeding. She silently prayed that she hadn’t broken his nose.
Marco Reyes was here and he might have a fractured septum thanks to her shortcut. She’d thought about going around to the front but remembered that Marco himself had shown her this back entrance when he’d worked here.
“I’m fine.” He assured her as he moved out into the hallway beside her and the door shut behind him with a thud.
“Here. Sit.” She motioned to chairs stacked against the wall as she went into nurse-mode. He lowered down onto one of the stacks that had four chairs and given his impressive height, his new position placed him eye level to her.
She was surprised that he followed her directions.
Marco had always been stubborn when it came to taking orders. Sydney remembered him telling her once that if someone told him to do something, it automatically made him want to do the opposite. If they told him not to do something, whatever it was immediately became the only thing he wanted to do.
After he’d shared that unique quirk to his stubborn personality, she’d often use it to her advantage. Most of the time she would just tease him and say things like, “Do not carry my backpack for me” when they were walking between classes. Or, “You can’t give me a ride to school.” Or her personal favorite, “You can’t watch Gilmore Girls with me.” That one only worked when she’d tutored him, since that was the only time they’d spent at her house.
She wasn’t subtle about it, and he wasn’t an idiot. She knew that he knew exactly what she was doing, but he played along like the good sport that he was.
A server walked out of the kitchen entrance that was off the back hallway they were in, carrying a bucket of ice and he stopped up short when he saw the bloody scene. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” Marco’s tone was definitive.
“Actually, can I have some of that?” Sydney asked as she grabbed a clean glass that was stacked on the table and scooped some ice cubes out of the bin.
The server didn’t seem to mind and continued on his way.
After wrapping them in another napkin she placed the cold compress to his nose as she apologized, “I’m so sorry.”
His gaze met hers and she could see the smile in his eyes. She also saw the specks of gold that floated in his sea green irises that were outlined in a deep forest green. Combined with the dark, thick lashes that surrounded them and his olive complexion that caused them to pop, his eyes were intoxicating.
Marco hadn’t won “Best Eyes” in high school for no reason. He’d earned the title, hands down, each and every time. She had a feeling he would still be the reigning champ if he were in the running today.
“Is it broken?” she asked, trying not to get sucked into the emerald vortex that was his stare.
“No.” When Marco spoke, goose bumps broke out on Sydney’s arms. His voice was deeper than it used to be and that just added to his appeal.
In the years that had passed since she’d seen Marco, he’d grown even more attractive. His face, always clean shaven in high school, now featured a peppering of stubble across his chiseled jaw. It increased his sexy-bad-boy edge tenfold. His frame, which had always been lean and athletic, was now filled out. Even his hands looked larger.
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, friend.” 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.