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Chapter 11
In Marco’s rental car, a black four-door sedan much like his own at home, I buckled up. I wasn’t sure what to say. I settled on, “This is so weird.”
Marco blew out a short breath, cracking a smile. “It’s literally the weirdest situation I’ve ever been in my entire life.” He started the car by pressing a button. “But I’m so glad you’re okay and nothing terrible happened.”
“Me, too,” I said. “Have you ever jumped on a plane that quickly before?”
“Never,” he said, pulling out to follow Kelly, who drove a bright yellow sports car of some kind that was no doubt very expensive. “It all worked out seamlessly, which was surprising. The flight was leaving in an hour and had a few seats on it. I just sort of ran out the door.”
“It was so unbelievably sweet of you to come running,” I said, feeling lame that the conversation sounded so banal. We’d known each other for what seemed like an eon, but we didn’t really know each other, and we weren’t in a relationship. Yet.
“Were you scared?” he asked.
“Not terribly,” I told him.
He made a few turns, following Kelly, and I suddenly realized I didn’t want this important, new kind of interaction with Marco to happen in front of everyone, especially not Yasmine and Matt, who had their own awkward terrain to navigate. “You know what? How about we head to the beach or somewhere else instead?”
“Really?” He glanced at me quickly, seeming completely relieved.
“Yeah. We need to have a real conversation, and we won’t be able to do it at Kelly’s. I’m ready to be done with this whole ordeal, if I’m being honest. We accomplished what we set out to do—Yasmine and Matt have reconnected. Not to mention, I don’t need to see the inside of that house.” I pulled my phone out and texted Poppy to let her know Marco and I were going to deviate from the plan.
Marco took a right, angling us toward the coast.
Poppy texted back.
i totally understand! will grab all your stuff.
I thanked her.
She followed up with:
are you driving back to seattle with marco? or flying? or do you guys want to ride with us?
I looked over at Marco. “Poppy wants to know if we want to ride back with them. Did you book a round-trip ticket?”
He shook his head. “I booked a one-way ticket. The rental car company said I could drop this off at the Seattle airport if I wanted to, for an extra charge. I wasn’t sure if you”—he cleared his throat—“would want to drive back with me or not.”
“Driving back with you sounds lovely. I’ll tell Poppy.”
My stomach fluttered as I texted her. Riding back with him would mean a possible overnight stay somewhere.
Poppy replied with hearts and smiley-face kissing emojis, then a row of eggplants, followed by a row of water drops.
Leave it to Poppy to cut right to the chase.
I burst out laughing.
“What?” Marco asked.
“Oh, it’s just Poppy being completely inappropriate and hilarious, as always.” I put my phone down. I didn’t want Marco to see her texts right at this very moment.
“When I came in from the airport, I saw a restaurant with a view of the ocean that didn’t look very busy. They had a big sign advertising breakfast. How does that sound?”
“Perfect. I’m starving.”
We sat in comfortable silence as he drove. We had so much to say to each other, but we were content to just be for a moment.
All of our interactions over the past month had been electrically charged with desire tempered by caution. It was hard to believe we were finally free to explore our feelings without guilt or shame.
