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As I heard his footsteps recede down the hall I muttered, “He’s not staying, you know. You can stop trying to befriend him.” Magoo ignored me and placidly continue making biscuits on Andrew’s hoodie.
I shook head and began digging out my winter gear. I could not believe Andrew freaking Markman and I had been getting along for a whole hour. It was a miracle.
* * *
We metdownstairs in the foyer, where the cold was already seeping in from the glass door and snow was starting to pile in the corners against the building. Andrew leaned against the wall, bundled in a high-end technical ski jacket and serious winter boots. He had looped neon green ski goggles around his neck and I burst out laughing at the sight of them.
“It’s a walk to Little Italy, not an Arctic expedition!”
He grinned at me and wagged his eyebrows. “You never know. We might get stranded and I’ll have to carry you home on my back. You’ll be grateful for the goggles then.”
I blushed and look away, pushing open the door. Bantering with evil Andrew I could handle, but flirtatious Andrew was an altogether different story. I bet he could carry me all the way home too. My stomach clenched at what I knew lay under that ski jacket and all his layers.
We made our way up the block as fast as we could through the thin layer of snow covering the pavement. It was quiet on my little residential street and the snow provided the illusion that New York was cleaner than it was.
Andrew looked over me and I stared resolutely ahead. “You’re not too bundled, MC. I suppose the cold doesn’t get to a hardy Vermonter like yourself.”
“I guess so. I hate those people who always compare the weather with where they are from. You remember Tate from LA?”
“How could I forget? You couldn’t go five minutes without him mentioning how LA was just so much preferable to New York.”
“Exactly. Although I think at one point, Ann may have told him to move back since he clearly loved it so much.”
“Ha!” Andrew cackled with glee. “I do appreciate her candor when it’s not directed at me.”
“You are a maniac Markman. Does the suffering of others turn you on?” The taunt slipped out before I could reel myself in.
“Absolutely.” He nodded solemnly, green eyes meeting mine and sparking. “And I’ll tell you a secret.”
I stopped at the corner and crossed my arms, waiting.
“It’s the number one reason I torture you so much.” He flicked my nose and I batted his hand away.
“Go away, Andrew. You’re most infuriating man alive.”
“You love it.”
I groaned and then tripped on a particularly large gap in the pavement in my haste to escape. I fell into Andrew’s side and he hauled me against him.
“You good?” His green eyes searched mine, darkening as they scanned my flushed cheeks and my too bright eyes. He brushed my hair back, the blunt tip of his thumb lingering on my jaw. My breath felt too tight in my chest. His strong form felt delicious against me, even through his jacket. He braced me with an arm against my lower back and I ached to press even closer against him.He’s not for you, I reminded myself. “Margo? You ok?” he asked when I didn’t respond. He brushed his thumb against the side of my lips, feathering it over the side of my jaw. My breath hitched but I managed to step away. “Yup, all good.”
I kept walking briskly, wanting nothing more than to fall into a manhole and disappear. My traitorous body was undeniably attracted to Andrew Markman., and worse, I was pretty sure he could read me like an open book. My cheeks burned. Ten years of hating the guy and twenty minutes of his undivided attention had me trying to climb him in the middle of Grand Street.
* * *
We stood at my counter,munching slices and sipping wine (for me) and a second beer (for Andrew). He was flushed from the cold and back in his overly casual clothes. I was still trying to wrap my mind around casual Andrew Markman, here, in my kitchen. In his bare feet, a fact that I was studiously ignoring. He folded his slice and ripped off a huge piece. I made a face.
He raised an eyebrow at me and took another monster bite.
“Boys are gross. You might choke, you know.”
“Try not to sound so hopeful,” he said around his huge mouthful.
“Weren’t you raised eating it with a knife and fork or something?”
“Oh yes.” He nodded solemnly. “Our butler served artisanal pizzas to us every Friday. Rich people, they’re just like you!”
I giggled at the image of him sitting around a formal dining table eat pizza off bone china. I chewed my bite, considering him. He wasn’t so bad. At least he could make fun of himself and take a joke. Lawyers weren’t exactly known for being laid back, but Andrew came pretty close. On the plus side, he also hadn’t checked his work email once. Meanwhile, I had surreptitiously checked three times on the way to pizza and twice on the way back. I don’t know why I felt the need to hide it from Andrew, but something told me that this was another part of our game; he wouldn’t check his phone so neither should I.
