Yes – I want it to count for something.

I need it to count for something.

“I just don’t want to get hurt again.”

Cole surprised me with a warm smile. “Then just try the whole friends thing first. It’s not like anyone is forcing you to offer him more than that.”

“Hannah.”

I shivered involuntarily at the rich sound of Marco’s voice in my ear. My hand tightened around my phone. “Hi.”

“I’m glad you called. I was beginning to think I’d need to go to Plan B.”

“Plan B?”

“Much like Plan A but with increased work hours.”

I smiled despite myself. “Well, no need. Your stalking days are over.”

“That sounds like good news.” He practically purred it, and my eyelashes fluttered closed before I could stop them.

Damn him!

“Just as friends!” I found myself blurting out.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m willing to try to be friends again.”

He was silent a moment.

“Marco?”

“Friends,” he finally answered. “But with the hope of becoming more.”

The butterflies were back in my belly. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no.”

“Fine. Friends will do for now.”

“Marco —”

“You can’t take it back. We’re friends. We’re officially spending time together.”

I sighed, willing the crazy fluttering inside me to die down. “How does next weekend sound?”

He hesitated. “I can’t do next weekend, I’m sorry. How about this Tuesday, after work, for drinks? I swapped shifts with a colleague. He’s doing my Wednesday shift if I do tomorrow for him.”

“That’s good for you. You can have a drink and not have to worry about work the next day. However, a weeknight doesn’t really work for me.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not like you’re surrounded by heavy machinery. We’ll have one drink. Or are you too old to go out on a weeknight?” he teased.

I grimaced. “You’re such a child. Fine, Tuesday night. One drink.”

Walking into the bar on George Street on Tuesday evening, I almost tripped over my own feet at the expression on Marco’s face when he saw me.

He stood up from the small booth he was sitting at, his eyes moving from my face, slowly down my body and back up again. The funny thing was there was nothing much to see except for my legs ending in a pair of fur-trimmed ankle boots. I was wearing my favorite green military-style winter coat with fur-trim cuffs. It fitted my body well, but it wasn’t exactly sexy.

Marco’s gaze made me feel sexy.

Damn him.

When I reached him he surprised me by bending slightly to press a kiss to my cheek. My cheek was rosy and cold from the freezing wind outside, but as soon as his lips touched my skin a blaze of heat radiated out from the spot. I must have looked befuddled because he seemed amused and pleased with himself.

Self-consciously I shrugged out of my coat, glad I was wearing a conservative navy wool dress underneath. However, I might as well have been wearing a nightdress for how hot I felt in close quarters with him.

Sliding into the booth beside him, my whole body hyper-aware of his, I knew I had to at least be honest with myself: I had never stopped being attracted to Marco and I’d once been in love with him. Despite the complicated past between us, despite the truths I was withholding, I knew that I could never just be friends with him on the inside, even if I could pretend it on the outside.

Our arms brushed and sparks shot through me like I’d touched a live wire. I couldn’t stamp out that feeling of excitement. That feeling was utterly addictive. From the age of fourteen until the age of seventeen, I’d had that feeling inside me whenever I was around Marco.

I’d missed it.

“How are you?” I gave him a small, hopefully platonic smile.

“I’m good.” His gaze was intense on me, his eyes deliberately trying to hook mine.

For the first time ever with him, I felt shy. I glanced away quickly, searching the bar.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked.

“Sure. I’ll have a glass of rosé, please.”

As soon as he slid out of the booth my breathing steadied.

You are being such an idiot, I berated myself. This was Marco. So what if he was hot? When I was younger, I’d still been able to carry on a conversation with him!

Pull it together, Nichols.

My eyes followed him as he strode up to the quiet bar, powerful, graceful. He wore a dark blue knit sweater with a shawl collar and a pair of dark blue jeans. He was effortlessly stylish and comfortable with himself in a way he hadn’t been when we were at school.

Momentarily sidetracked from my study of him, I picked up on the lust aimed at Marco emanating from the other end of the bar. Two women sat on barstools, speaking quietly to each other as they watched him with hungry eyes and come-hither smiles.

Marco wasn’t even paying attention.

I relaxed somewhat at his utter lack of interest, jealousy slowly seeping out of me.

Yup. Definitely not just friends.

Damn him.

“So,” he said as he slipped back into the booth beside me, putting my wineglass gently down in front of me as he lightly gripped his pint of lager, “How was work?”

Small talk. Yes, I could do small talk.

I opened my mouth to speak but was immediately distracted by the arm he slid along the back of the booth we were sitting in. I felt surrounded.

What the hell did he just ask?

Work! Right, work. “Good.” I took a quick sip of my wine, hoping the alcohol would help me relax a little. “It’s busy and stressful, but I love teaching.”

“And you were always good at it.”

Not wanting to take another trip down memory lane so soon after our last one, I shrugged and then smiled coaxingly into his handsome face. “You seem to be doing well. Adam speaks highly of you. Says you’ll be a site manager one day.”

“That’s the goal. You work hard, you learn, you get there.”

I smiled softly. “You say you’ve changed, but you had that attitude when we were kids. You took those classes when you didn’t need to. You were always challenging yourself to be better.” Except when it came to me.

“Not always,” he replied pointedly, as if he’d just read my mind. “In that way I’ve changed. I go after what I want now, no matter what.”

I looked away before we ventured into dangerous territory. “How’s your aunt Gabby?”

“She’s good. Real good. Gio eased up on me a lot over the last few years and I know it’s mostly because of Gabby. I’m pretty close to her. It’s nice having family over here.”

“Do you still talk to your family in Chicago?”

“Sure. Magic of the Internet.”

“Of course. I’m glad for you. I’m happy that, for whatever reason, you’re not carrying around all that stuff your grandfather piled on you.”

“Thank you.” His eyes did that intense roaming of my face thing again and I had a sudden vision of throwing myself at him. I mentally slapped my wrist. “And what about you? How’s your family?”

“Really good. Ellie had a little boy, William. She’s pregnant with their second child. “

Marco raised his eyebrows. “Full house, huh?”

I laughed. “You have no idea. Joss and Braden have two kids now, Beth and Luke. My parents’ house is a zoo every Sunday.”

He grinned. “It sounds nice.”

“It is.”

“And your parents and Dec? How are they?”

“They’re well. At least I know my parents are. I wouldn’t know about Dec. He’s eighteen now and spends most of his time in his room with his girlfriend.”

“He’s got a girlfriend. He’s ahead of the curve.”

“Yeah, don’t tell him. He’s brainy and cute and an arrogant little bugger.” I groaned, but Marco smiled at the obvious affection in my voice.

“You always had a nice family, Hannah.”

“Yeah,” I agreed softly.

Marco tensed suddenly. “And Cole?”

I glanced up at him in confusion. “Cole?”

“The guy you were at the wedding with.” Marco shrugged. “Anisha told me who he was.”

“You certainly did your homework,” I murmured, taking another sip of wine. “Cole is Jo’s little brother. He’s my best friend. He’s… been there for me.”

Marco frowned at my answer, not seeming to like it much. “But you’re not together.”

“No, it’s not like that between us.” I put my glass down, my gaze on the table. “Maybe we should steer clear of relationship talk.”

“That’s fine with me.” He tilted his head to the side, eyeing me through his narrowed gaze. “Is Finding Nemo still your favorite movie?”

I laughed at the randomness of the question, relieved by the subject change. “You remember that?”

“Of course.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what my favorite movie is anymore.”

“We’ll need to do something about that.”

“I don’t know. I quite like not having an exact favorite. Is Training Day still yours?”

“Nah, that movie Lawless. Now that is a fucking movie.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen it.”

He smiled and even before he said the words I knew I’d just fallen right into his agenda. “Thursday night, your place, me, you and Lawless.”

I opened my mouth to shoot him down, but stalled when I saw the glimmer in his eyes. He was expecting me to say no, and it suddenly occurred to me that my refusal might reinforce the idea that I was scared of spending time with him. And he could only assume that my fear of spending time with him stemmed from my attraction to him.

I jutted my chin out defiantly. “It’ll need to be later on in the evening. I teach an adult literacy class on Thursday after school.”