Page 24 of Wild Valentine
I give a startled gasp and drop my coffee. Hot liquid splashes up my legs and I jump back before it scalds me, muttering a string of curses.
“Did you drop something?” Scott calls down the phone. “Don't tell me you got it on your laptop.”
I push the hang up button, not wanting Scott to be privy to anything that's about to happen.
“You wrote the story?”
Marcus's face is full of disbelief. He wants me to deny it, and I wish I could.
My eyes dart to the open laptop on the counter, and he follows my gaze. I take a step toward my laptop, but he’s too quick and snatches it off the counter.
“It's not what it looks like.”
He scans the words, his expression turning hard as he reads.
“I just had to get it out. It's not…”
But his stony expression stops me in my tracks. He places the laptop carefully on the counter. His eyes are full of hurt, and I hate that I've made him feel that way.
“I guess you did everything you could to get the story, huh?”
My heart sinks. That's what I said to Scott, but it's not true.
I shake my head. “No, no, it’s not like that.”
He holds a hand up to silence me, his expression cold.
“Make sure the heat is off and put the key under the mat when you leave.”
My heart clenches at his cold words. I’m just his guest now.
“Marcus…”
He heads down the porch steps and I go to follow him, but my foot comes down on a piece of the broken mug. Sharp pain pierces my foot, and when I look down it’s bleeding.
“Damn it.”
I find a first aid kit under the sink and stick a bandage over the cut to stop the bleeding. There’s the roar of a motorbike, and when I look up Marcus is tearing up the drive, kicking up dust in his haste to get away from me.
Damn. It’s an hour until my train from Hope that will take me to the airport.
I want to follow him, but I can't afford to miss the flight. I need to get back to Mom. Besides, he thinks I betrayed him, and I kind of did. I wrote up his story, the story he told for me alone. He doesn’t know that I wasn’t going to publish it.
It hurts that he didn’t stick around to hear my explanation, that he thinks I’d betray him so easily. But maybe it’s better this way.
It was stupid to think we could be together. Maybe it’s best that we part like this rather than me making him miserable in New York.
The best thing I can do now is go home to Mom.
11
MARCUS
The wind whips at my cheeks as I careen down the mountain. There’s a hairpin turn and I lean into it, but I’m going way too fast. Gravel kicks up behind me as I skid and almost lose control. But I don’t slow down. My heart is breaking in my chest, and the pain is making me reckless.
I’m not sure where I’m going, just away from her, away from Hazel. I was ready to give her my heart, to her to move to the city for her, to do whatever it takes to be with her. But it turns out she was just using me to get the story.
In my mind I replay every exchange between us over the last few days, every conversation, every smile, every kiss. I thought it was real, but she was faking it to get her story.
