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He holds it to Sparrow’s twitching coat, lowering his voice. “All I wanted was to get to know you. Is that really such a crime?”
“Yes.”One that’s going to get me fired.“Now let me get dressed, please.”
He squares off with me, crowding my space like always. “You’re not the only one who’s been disappointed by someone you loved. I get it, Heather. Foster care is rough, there’s no denying that. You don’t trust people because the first time you ever did, they abandoned you.”
The hair on the back of my neck bristles and my throat tightens. “Don’t do that. Don’t dissect me with what you think you know.”
“I see you. I understand you. That’s what I’m saying.”
Icy spikes protrude from my heart as swiftly as a switchblade. “What would someone like you understand about abandonment? You haveeverything, Marcus. What more could you possibly ask for?”
His jaw clenches as he swallows. “For starters, not having every one of my fuck-ups aired out for the public to tear apart, or maybe some honest friends other than the cousin who only tolerates me because we’re related. A family. Love and affection from a person who cares about the real me.”
Marcus consumes every particle of oxygen with each step he takes toward me.
I don’t understand. He’s said it before, but who is he really, if not the man devouring the heat from my skin with every brushing inhale.
Pulling my top and shirt free from his grasp, I spin to get away from him.
“Oh no you don’t. We’re going to work this out, one way or another.” He quickly moves around me to block my path. “So, if you’ve got anything else to say, slayer, then say it with your chest.”
“Fine.You want to know me that badly?” I swipe my arm down the length of my body to the mark on my right hip. “I hate this birthmark because it reminds me of the woman who birthed me but never wanted me. Oh, and here’s a scar from when I broke my leg while riding my bike, but my foster family didn’t want to cancel their summer vacation, so they left me with a designated caregiver just one week after I was released from the hospital.
“I hate being by myself, and I hate being cold. Yet, I live in one of the coldest cities in America, with no pets or roommates. I have no friends, no kids, no family to speak of, and I’m miserable.” I bark a vicious laugh, losing the strength in my voice. “I’m so fucking miserable inside this bubble I’ve created, Marcus, but it’ssafe. So yes, getting close to people threatens that safety. Can you understand that?”
Sparrow side-steps nervously, and guilt beats at me to have upset her with our argument.
“It’s okay, Sparrow,” I say as steadily as I can. But at the sound of twigs snapping, Marcus flicks his gaze toward the trees.
“Get behind me, now,” he instructs, blocking me with his body when Sparrow rears her front legs up.
More branches and leaves rattle, but when Jango barks, wagging his tail happily, I know who’s found us before she utters a word.
“What the hell are you two—” Saddled on top of Churro, Penelope throws a hand over her eyes to block her view of us and shrieks, “Oh, my god,titties!”
My arms fold across my chest on instinct as I shout back at her, “It’s not what it looks like!”
Peeking through two fingers, she sees that I’m still mostly naked, and groans, “Heather, you’re topless. I think it’s exactly what it looks like.”
“Pen,” Marcus interrupts. “What the hell are you doing down here?”
He snatches the shirt from my hand and quickly yanks it over my head to cover me. Gripping the bottom tight, his wounded gaze clings to mine long enough to make me shudder. And for everything I listed that I hate, I hate myself for hurting him the most.
Sparrow bumps my hip with her face as I step around her, and by the time I reach the quilt, I’m choking back bitter tears.
“Dude, if it’s privacy you want, then send me a text or something next time,” Penelope remarks.
Embarrassment clogs my throat uncomfortably. I can’t bring myself to look at her when I say, “Oh, no, privacy won’t be necessary.”
I fluff the blanket more times than needed before cramming it and our towels into Marcus’s bag.
“Cat’s invited us all to dinner at her mother-in-law’s tonight. So once you’re donecanoodling,” she inflects with a good dose of I’m-totally-judging-you-guys, “meet me at the ranch.”
Clicking at Churro, she guides him back into the forest, leaving no room for argument.
The backpack hangs limply in my arm when I eventually turn to Marcus. He dresses quickly, not meeting my stare, and then walks Sparrow to me without uttering a single word.
“Marcus, wait.” I half-heartedly reach for him, unsure where we stand or where the hell we’re supposed to go from here.
