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“Thanks.”
He beamed at me and exclaimed, “This is so romantic! Your true love, spurned by your family, forcing you to carry on in secret—it’s like Romeo and Juliet!”
“I don’t know why everyone thinks that’s romantic,” I muttered. “They both die at the end.”
Our visit to Nana’s house turned into an all-day affair. Several more of her family members came over, and lunch was followed by cocktails and eventually dinner.
It was almost ten p.m. when we finally got back to the townhouse. I said goodnight to Jack and my brother, then went straight to my room to take a shower and put on a clean T-shirt and sweats.
I’d been in bed reading one of Jack’s paperbacks for about an hour when my phone vibrated on the night stand. The message from Marcus said: How was your class this morning?
I replied: It was hard and exhausting, and I was even more uncoordinated than I thought I’d be. I’m not sure if I’ve ever been quite that bad at anything.
He wrote: Well, it was worth a try.
My next message said: I’m not giving up. I signed up for a month’s worth of classes. The next one is on Thursday.
Marcus responded: That’s great! It didn’t sound like you enjoyed it.
I thought about that before telling him: I like the challenge. Just because something’s hard doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing.
His wrote: Very true. That was followed by a text that said: I have a favor to ask. Could I please see you, just for two minutes?
I replied: It’s a little late for the park.
His next text almost made me drop my phone: I know. That’s why I’m outside. Another text popped up a second later: I just read that and it sounds super creepy. Sorry.
My heart started racing as I tossed the phone onto the mattress, leapt out of bed, and opened my door. What was he thinking, coming here when my brother was right upstairs?
I paused and listened for a few seconds, hoping to god Jack and Reno were asleep. Since the townhouse was perfectly still, I rushed to the door and opened it as quietly as I could.
Marcus was standing on the porch with a sheepish expression, and I grabbed his wrist and dragged him inside. Then I locked up behind him and speed-walked him to my room.
Once my door was closed and locked behind us, I whispered, “Do you have a death wish?”
“No. I just missed you. I get that this is weird, by the way, and I apologize.”
He looked so lost. I didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me sooner, but it finally dawned on me that he had no one in all the world—no one but me. No wonder he’d wanted to see me.
I hugged him, and he sank into it. “Totally worth the risk,” he whispered. After a minute, he let go of me and said, “I’ll go now, and—”
“No, stay. We’ll sneak you out in the morning, before anyone wakes up.”
“Are you sure?” When I nodded, he took off his jacket and loafers and slipped into bed with me, still dressed in his T-shirt and jeans.
After I set an alarm on my phone, I turned off the light and drew him into my arms. He fell asleep soon after with his head on my chest, and I held him securely.
When the alarm went off the next morning at six a.m., I fumbled with my phone to shut it off. Then I sat up and looked around. Marcus was long gone, but there was a slip of paper on the nightstand. He’d drawn a picture of two giraffes leaning into each other, along with two words: thank you.
17
Romy
For the rest of February, I felt like a double agent. I kept living under my brother’s roof, because I thought it was important to stay in the loop about his efforts to find Marcus. I also made several more attempts at talking him out of the manhunt and got nowhere.
At the same time, I kept sneaking off to see Marcus whenever I could. I’d decided to leave sex out of it while we rebuilt our relationship, so we continued to meet at our spot in the park for long walks around the island, picnics, and endless conversations. Some of my favorite afternoons were spent on a blanket at the top of that little island, holding hands and watching the clouds roll by while we talked about anything that came to mind.
Not that everything was perfect during all of this. There was still the constant threat of getting found out, and the thought of how angry and disappointed my brother would be if this came to light wore at me.
Plus, the situation with Art’s former associates was still hanging over Marcus. Even though he tried not to let it show, I knew he was worried. Those men were ruthless, and they wouldn’t stop until they got what they wanted. It was probably just a matter of time before they made the San Francisco connection and closed in, and then we’d be forced to make some decisions.
