“You keeping track of my history, lawyer?”
“Hard not to,” he said. “You make it the city’s business.”
“Oh, do I?” I couldn’t help but smile. He was mean, sure, but it was because he was jealous. “Well, if you wanted to be on the list, all you had to do was ask.”
“I’m not interested in being a name you forget when the bottle’s empty.”
Ouch. “Who says I’d need a bottle to forget you?”
“You forget people because it’s easier than remembering who you’ve become,” he said. “Doesn’t matter how much you drink.”
“Oh, fuck you.” I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You are so far up your own ass it’s a miracle you canbreathe.”
“That’s rich, coming from the queen of self-sabotage. You’ve been suffocating on your own bad decisions since the day I met you.”
I gave him a glare. A mean one. “Ineverasked for your help.”
“No,” he agreed. “You just make sure I’m always around to offer it.”
“You offer it on your own, and you know it.”
His eyes fell to my mouth and back up again. “Bad habit.”
“I’ll break it for you.”
“Try,” he said in a husky, strained voice.
My chin tipped up. “What happens if I do break it, Marco? What’s left when you’ve got no excuses to chase after me?”
He didn’t give me an answer.
I dragged a finger down the center of his chest, slow enough to watch his jaw flex. “You like having me this way, don’t you? Backed into corners, biting at your hand every time you try to help. You like playing my hero even when you swear you’re not.”
He caught my wrist before I could drag that finger any lower. His grip wasn’t rough, but it was firm enough to make my pulse trip over itself. “I don’t play hero, Valentina,” he lied. “I clean up messes. And you’re just another mess.”
“If I’m such a mess, walk away and leave me in it. Go and tell Max this was a mistake.”
His thumb traced the inside of my wrist, skating over my pulse like he could feel it hammering. “You think I haven’t tried?”
My breath stuttered, just once, but he caught it. Of course he caught it. “Tried what? Walking away from me, or telling Max this was a mistake?”
“What do you think?” he murmured.
I thought I was the habit he couldn’t break, the problem he couldn’t solve, the ache under his skin that no amount of distance could fix. And if that were true, I wanted him to feel it. All of it. So, naturally, I did the absolute worst thing I could think of.
I stepped closer. Way closer, because apparently, I had no sense of self-preservation or shame left in my entire body. I tilted my chin up so I could look him right in the eye, even though doing that always made me forget how to breathe.
I reached up slowly and curled my fingers around his tie again, tugging him down gently, just like last time. It felt familiar—and maybe that was exactly why I did it. Marco was my worst decision in a long history of terrible decisions, but I couldn’t stop myself from making this decision again and again.
And yeah, I knew I was pushing. Knew this would blow up spectacularly in my face. Knew I’d probably wake up alone tomorrow, cursing myself for being so careless with my stupid feelings and his stupid tie and everything about him that drove me insane.
But none of that stopped me, because the truth was, I wanted him. Badly. Against my better judgment, despite the giant neon warning signs flashing inside my brain.
Then he tipped his head down to my ear. “You think you can just tease me like this and expect me to stay polite?”
I shivered, and every nerve in my body practically shouted,Finally!
God, if he knew how desperately I’d been luring him in, how deliberately I’d been pushing him past politeness, he’d probably back away. That was what Marco did—he took one step forward and two cautious, annoying steps back.
