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Evangeline
All day my mind stays on Marco. The kiss that we’d shared in the car lingers on my lips. It’s hard to focus on anything when my thoughts keep straying back to him. How can they not? Whenever it’s time to leave one class to go to the next, he’s standing outside the door waiting to walk me. I’ve also noticed that there hasn't been a sign of Trent anywhere today.
I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. “Did you tell your grams that you’re coming to my place for dinner?” Marco asks, taking my backpack from me as we head out of school toward his car.
“I’ll tell her when I get home after school.” I tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Should I bring something? I’ve never done this dinner thing.”
“You’ve never had dinner?” he teases.
I half roll my eyes at him as I smile. He never takes himself too seriously. It’s one of the things that makes me feel so comfortable around him.
“Of course I eat dinner.” I motion toward my body. I’m a little on the fuller side. Who can blame me when my grandma is pretty much a five-star chef? It’s impossible not to eat all the home-cooked meals she makes me.
“Then I’m going to make sure you keep on getting those dinners.” His eyes roam over me, stopping on the flare of my hips for a moment. My face heats at his open appraisal. When Trent looked at me, it felt dirty, but Marco’s gaze makes me feel anything but that. I feel sexy and wanted.
“Get in the car before we start making out with you pressed up against it.” He opens the door, and I scurry in. I don’t need the school talking about Marco and me. I’m already hearing rumors about him. I couldn't help that my ears perked up a little when some of the girls in my class would talk about him, saying that he never gave anyone the time of day. From what I’ve heard, he also never lets anyone into his car. His car is nice. It looks extra fancy and like something I may never be able to afford. Some girls are impressed with fancy cars, but that’s not my style.
“What kind of car is this?” I ask out of curiosity as Marco jumps into the driver's seat.
“G-Class. Most call it a G-Wagon. It was a gift.” He starts it up and the whole car makes a rumbling sound. It seems more like a sports car than an SUV.
“Will you come back and pick me up later for dinner?” I pull at the bottom of my dress. It rode up my leg a bit when I climbed into the car.
“I’m taking you to my place now. It’s why I was asking if you’d told your grams yet.”
“Right now?” I look down at my outfit. “I’m not dressed for dinner.”
Actually, I’m not even sure what you wear to a dinner like this, but I’m guessing it’s going to be in some formal dining room with three forks and two spoons, and I’ll have no idea how to use any of them. I should Google this. My stomach fills with worry as I remember what Marco said about his brother-in-law’s profession. I don’t think Marco would let anything happen to me based on how protective he’s been so far, but the worry alone only adds to the nervousness I’m feeling.
“There’s nothing wrong with what you have on. We’re only going to my house to eat dinner with my sister and brother-in-law.” He grabs my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. “It’s nothing fancy, I promise.” I look up to see he has that easy smile on his face again.
“You’re amused?”
That makes his smile wider.
“You’re adorable. If I weren’t driving, I’d lean over and kiss you.”
My cheeks pink at his comment. It’s not because I’m embarrassed, but because I wish he could do exactly that.
“You’re so sure of yourself over there.” I poke him back.
I noticed today when he was walking around school his face was always stoic, but whenever his eyes met mine he always smiled. I can't help myself from leaning over and kissing the side of his nose that still shows evidence of his fight with Trent. “Still hurt?”
“Nope.”
I drop back into my seat and pull out my phone to text Grams. She’s cool with me eating at a friend’s house, but, oh, no. “She said I’m supposed to bring a dish!”
“Babydoll, I promise all my sister wants you to bring is yourself.”
We pull up to a giant guard stand. They give Marco a nod to roll down his window.
“Guest? We need ID,” the man who’s dressed like a swat officer says while holding a clipboard. He looks to be a good ten years older than Marco. I go for my backpack and wonder if my school ID will work. I don’t have a driver's license. It’s something I should probably get but I don’t have a car. I don’t see myself being able to afford a car anytime soon so a license can wait.
“I’m her ID. Open the doors.”
“Sir.” The guard tries to be stern.
“You want me to call Sophia?”
