Fall from India Place (On Dublin Street #4)(31)
Author: Samantha Young

I saw his head appear as he ascended the staircase and my stomach dropped. His eyes lifted from his feet to my face as he climbed higher, and he gave me a small smile in greeting. Damn it. Why did I have to be so attracted to him? Why did I have to have so many good memories of him?

His gaze drifted down my body and back up again, and I got the distinct feeling he wasn’t disappointed by my outfit. Not at all. Pretending I didn’t give a crap, I stepped back. “Come in.”

He moved inside, making me feel tiny, and despite his defection, safe. “Did you get taller?” I grumbled, moving away from him and the attractive cologne he was wearing.

He shut the front door behind him and shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

As my eyes took him in, it occurred to me that it had nothing to do with his height. It was his muscle. I gulped at the sight of his biceps, nicely displayed in the form-fitting hooded Henley he was wearing. “This way,” I almost wheezed, abruptly turning my back at the sight of his amusement.

He followed me into the sitting room, where I’d set the dining table at the back of the room. “Nice place.” His eyes hit the piles of books that I had in nearly every corner, and he gave me that familiar half smile that made me feel things I didn’t want to feel. “You need bookshelves, though.”

Ignoring that comment, I gestured to the table. “Take a seat. I’ll get dinner.”

Marco raised an eyebrow. “You cooked after all?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Only because I’m hungry.”

“Of course.”

Pissed that I was doing a very shitty job of coming across as being unaffected by his presence, I marched out of the room and into my kitchen, where I clutched the edge of my countertop, taking in a deep breath.

You can do this. He’s just a boy. He’s just a boy. He’s just a boy. I chanted that mantra over and over in my head while I grabbed the bowls of pasta and salad.

“This looks great,” Marco said after I strode back into the sitting room to dump them on the table.

I made a harrumph sound and then grunted, “Beer?”

His lips quirked up at the corners and I could see the laughter dancing in his stunning eyes. “Sure.”

I returned with the beer, slammed it down in front of him, and then shoved myself ungracefully into my seat opposite him. I gestured to the bowls. “Eat.”

Not hiding his amusement any longer, Marco grinned as he reached for the salad bowl. “You seem agitated.”

No, do I? Outwardly, I just shrugged. “Well, I’m fine.”

His look said he didn’t believe me for a second. I took the salad bowl from him, dumping vegetables onto my plate as he scooped pasta al pomodoro onto his own. We were silent as we served ourselves and started eating.

I felt like any second I might just jump out of my skin and throw my skeleton arse out of my bay window. I kept waiting for him to start speaking, to start explaining himself, since that was the whole point of him being here in my sitting room, eating my food and affecting my girlie bits. Finally, I’d had enough of his seemingly comfortable silence. “Four years?” I snapped, glaring at him.

Marco contemplated me, appearing to memorize every inch of my face in a way that made my skin feel hot and tingly. He laid his fork down and sat back, twisting the cap off his beer with little effort. He took a sip, his eyes never leaving me. “Maybe we should start with the night at India Place.”

Unexpected pain shot across my chest at the mention of India Place. It stole my breath, that pain. Ever since I’d lost my virginity to Marco, the pain and humiliation of that night had really only ever belonged to me, because he hadn’t been around to face afterward and no one else knew about it.

Discussing it with him for the first time made it feel like it had just happened.

I must not have been able to keep that pain out of my expression, because Marco tensed, and something like regret flickered in his gaze.

He set the beer down, his entire focus on me. “I want you to know that being with you that night was one of the best nights of my life.”

I froze at that shocking confession, only for anger to quickly unfreeze me. “Don’t you dare try to sweet-talk me with bullshit and pretty words. I just want the truth, Marco.”

His features hardened. “That is the truth. You can be pissed off at me all you want, but don’t question what I tell you tonight because I’ve never lied to you.”

“For all I know.”

“No, you do know. I’ve never lied to you, Hannah. Not once.”

“Well, if that night was so amazing how come you couldn’t get out of there fast enough afterward? How come you left me lying there in that skeezy flat, feeling used and absolutely worthless?”

Looking pained by my questions, Marco suddenly drew a hand down his face.

I waited.

“I hate myself for making you feel that way,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

My heart was beating so hard against my chest it hurt. “Why, then?”

Understanding my question, he sat back in his chair, his jaw taut. “You were Hannah. You were this great girl who made me laugh and looked at me like I was worth something, and every year you got more beautiful.”

His words made my heart flip over in my chest.

“You were too good for me. I knew that the first time I walked you home. Pure class from the tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes. Not for me.”

“I don’t understand.”

Marco exhaled heavily. “I told you I didn’t get along with my grandfather or my uncle. And what I meant was that I really didn’t get along with them. From the moment I could walk Nonno made sure I thought I was a piece of scum, worthless. He told me I was nothing and that I would never amount to anything. He said I was just like my mom and dad, and that every life I’d touch, I’d ruin. He drilled that into me.”

I couldn’t help myself. Even after everything, I was hurt and angry on his behalf when he said those things. “He sounds like a bitter old bastard.”

Marco gave a huff of laughter. “You’d be right. But he was the only father figure I had. So, despite Nonna’s attempts to soften my grandfather’s blows, I believed him. It got so I was almost trying to prove him right. I grew up with this kid in my neighborhood. His stepdad was kind of a prick to him too. We were friends mostly because of our mutual hate for them. As we got older, Jamal started doing stupid shit like breaking into people’s homes, stealing stuff, vandalism, and all that crap, and I went along for the ride. Then when we were almost sixteen he got recruited into a gang.”