His note of surprise felt so discouraging. “Yes. To see Marco.”
He peered up at me from behind his paper. “Will you be out late?”
My grandpa tended to wait up for me. Not that I’d given him many opportunities to do it recently. “I don’t think so. I’ll call if anything changes.”
He put his paper back up and told me to have fun, and I headed out to Marco’s. I hadn’t given myself quite enough time to get to his place. I had forgotten to account for Friday afternoon / evening Los Angeles traffic. When I finally arrived, I discovered that he lived in a nice, shiny condo building. There was even a valet to take my car. I felt a little embarrassed getting in line behind the luxury automobiles, but I handed off my keys with as much dignity as I could muster.
I took an elevator up to the tenth floor and walked to the end of the hallway to find Marco’s place. The door was slightly ajar.
For some reason, this alarmed me. Why was his door open? Was he in trouble? I put my keys in between my fingers just in case he needed help.
Although what assistance I thought I could offer a man who could bench-press me, I wasn’t sure.
I still couldn’t believe he’d left his door open. Any random off the street could have just waltzed in. Didn’t anyone in his life ever tell him he needed to lock his front door? Marco might have been smart, but common sense was like deodorant. The people who needed it most never had it.
But what if something had happened to him? I had to go in and see. So the random wandering in off the street was me. I pushed the door farther open and called out his name. “Marco?”
There was a rhythmic thump-thumping noise, and as I came around the corner, I saw Marco on a treadmill, running.
Without a shirt on.
I audibly gulped as my uterus skipped a beat.
I had guessed at his physique based on touching him and his appearance, but now I had to be sad about how poor my imagination actually was. He had the kind of perfect body that slow motion was invented for.
His big muscles flexed and moved as he ran, all sweaty and glistening, and the sight of him made my internal organs do a bunch of somersaults. He had a torso people should write poetry about or make sculptures of. Maybe they already had.
I could set up a carnival booth and sell tickets to get a look at him like this, and people would pay it.
He was so powerful and fast. There was a definite running-to-Isengard-to-save-the-hobbits thing happening here that I enjoyed.
So unfair. I had to pretend to date Mr. Sexy Chest and keep these ridiculous hormones in check. It was like the universe had decided I hadn’t had enough bad things in my life and that I needed to be punished or tempted or something.
If Marco’s plan worked and Craig wanted to be with me, I really hoped these pesky attraction issues of mine would go away. They had to, right? I couldn’t still be lusting after him once Craig and I were official. I didn’t need any additional awkwardness in my life.
Then I wondered just how long I’d been standing there ogling him like some mega creep.
“Marco?”
No response.
I walked over into his range of vision, and he noticed me. He looked very surprised, like he hadn’t personally invited me over to his house or something. He pressed buttons on the console, and the treadmill began to slow down.
If he’d caught me running topless on a treadmill and surprised me, I would have fallen backward and knocked myself out. Marco, on the other hand, gracefully stepped off the machine as it came to a stop.
“Anna? Didn’t we say five o’clock?”
I looked at my phone. At first I cursed my own stupidity for not getting a picture of him while he was running.
. . . for Catalina. Yeah, for Catalina.
Not any other reason.
But it was a little bit after four o’clock, and he definitely had said five. I felt so stupid as I realized what I had done. “Right. I set my alarm to remind myself to start winding down, but I mistook it for the ‘leave now’ alarm. I’m sorry about that.”
He took a step toward me, apparently unaware of his partial nudity. To paraphrase Rey, couldn’t he put a shirt on or something? He reached for a small towel and used it to wipe off the back of his neck.
My mouth went dry. Literally dry.
“And you just decided to let yourself in?” he asked with a small smile.
“Your front door was open.”
“It was?”
“Yes. Are you trying to get murdered?” I was attempting to keep my eyes level with his, but they kept slipping back down to take in his chest and those abs on his stomach. I’d never seen a human who had real abs before. Marco seemed to have more than his fair share.
He smiled again. “My trainer was here. He must have left it open on his way out. So no, I wasn’t trying to get murdered. Did anyone ever tell you that you worry too much?”
“Only my grandpa and a psychiatrist,” I said absentmindedly as he reached for a water bottle and took a long drink of water. I felt so distracted by all the shiny, corded muscles on display.
Why was his neck sexy? That didn’t seem like a body part that should be attractive.
I suddenly got hit with his scent and by all accounts, I should have been grossed out by how sweaty he was. Instead, it was like he was secreting pheromones directly into my bloodstream, and I felt powerless to resist. He was intoxicating.
Completely oblivious to what was happening to me, he threw the towel over his shoulder. “I’m going to grab a shower, and then we can talk after. Sound good?”
Was that a question? I wasn’t sure. There was just so . . . much . . . chest. I nodded, hoping that was the right answer.
He left, and I watched him go clear up until the second he shut his bedroom door. I let out a frustrated little groan and turned away. I had images of Marco turning on the water, taking off those shorts, stepping into the shower . . . what was going on with me? I closed my eyes like that would stop me from visualizing what was happening behind that closed door. I needed some help.
When Catalina answered her phone, she said, “I’m glad you called. You have to stop me. I need one of those huge dog collars that will zap me anytime I try to shop online.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so instead I asked, “What is wrong with me?”
“How honest do you want me to be? Also, do you want a list?” She paused. “Why do you sound weird?”
“I may or may not be at Marco’s condo, and I need you to distract me.”
“Why?”
I scrunched up my shoulders. “He’s taking a shower.”
“But why are you talking to me and not joining him?”
Good question. My body agreed.
“Please, let’s talk about something else.” Eyes shut, eyes open, it didn’t seem to make a difference. I was either imagining him in the shower or running on his treadmill.
And I’d thought I had a weak imagination.
“You sound frantic. Are you going to lie to me again and tell me you don’t have feelings for this guy?”
“It’s not feelings.” That wasn’t a lie, was it? I mean, I liked him as a person. He was fun to hang out with and was nice and thoughtful, but that wasn’t feelings. Just appreciating another kind human being. Who happened to have a body like an Olympic athlete. “He’s just . . . attractive.”