“What meeting?”
I sighed. “My AA meeting, if you must know.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Didn’t think you were actually going to those.”
I reached into my leopard-print bag to grab the signed slip. I held it up, watching his eyes scan the page. “And yet here I am. The poster child for sobriety.”
He looked at me.
Then at the slip.
Then back at me.
He tapped his cigarette, letting the ashfall onto the pavement. “What’d you have to do to get those?”
I smiled. “Suck Greg’s dick.”
Hislips twitched. I didn’t miss it.
When he stood, my head fell back to keep eye contact with him. He didn’t find my comment as funny as I did. The line between his brows told me he was deciding how much of my bullshit he was willing to tolerate tonight.
“You’ve got a smart mouth. Must be nice,” he murmured, “getting whatever you want.”
“NotwhateverI want.” I glanced at him through my lashes. “Not yet anyway.”
My eyes fell down the length of his body, all the way to where the cigarette was placed between his fingers. I reached for it, and he didn’t pull back.
“Couldn’t stop thinking about me, could you?” I asked, placing my lips around the cigarette.
He stared at my lips while I inhaled.
“Trust me,” he started, “if I could erase you from my mind, you’d already be gone.”
Was that a compliment?
“Careful, lawyer. I could tell you all about terrible habits.”
“I’m sure you could. You’re the expert after all.”
I bit down on my smile. I liked this side of him—the one that didn’t take everything so seriously. I mean, God, he was always walking around as if someone had died and made him responsible for every damn thing.
It was pathetic how much I enjoyed the attention he gave me. Maybe I was desperate for even a scrap of validation, or maybe it was just because the idea of a man like Marco thinking about me at all felt dangerously good. Especially after months of him watching me like I was a disaster waiting to happen.
But I didn’t want to overthink it. Not now anyway. I just wanted to enjoy this tiny victory, even if it was temporary. Even if it meant absolutely nothing.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re loitering outside my apartment?”
He reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a chain. It was familiar. It looked a lot like my bracelet.
“Found this in my car.”
He sounded irritated he’d had to come here to return it.
“Oh.” I blew the smoke right into his face. “That’s not mine,” I said, joking, trying to give the serious man a hard time.
“Don’t be difficult.”
I smirked. “I’m not. You sure you’re not confusing me with someone else?”
