“The same treatments that are saving his life. They won’t cover it because they’re too new.” She blinks back tears, and before I think about it, I place my hand over hers—not for show,but because I don’t know what else to do. I hate that she’s hurting and I can’t fix it.
“I’m so sorry, Scarlett.”
She doesn’t look at me, but I notice she doesn’t pull her hand away. “Me too.”
“Do you want to leave? We don’t have to stay here if you want to go back.”
Her eyes meet mine and there’s something different there. “I don’t want to leave, Bren.” She shakes her head. “Screw the insurance company. Ineedthis.” She gestures toward her fries.
“You needfries?” I ask, confused.
“No, I mean all of it.” She waves her hands in the air. “I need the people. The noise. Thefun.”There’s a fire in her eyes now. Then she tucks her phone in her pocket and gives me a look that says she doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. Tonight she needs toforget.
The pinging from the video games echoes in the background. “Well, if we’re staying, do you want to destroy me in air hockey?” I ask.
“That sounds like exactly what I need.” She pushes back her chair in one fluid movement, but doesn’t get up. “Let’s see if I still have my magic touch.”
She looks far too proud of her air-hockey skills for me to resist pushing back. “I seriously question whether there is any magic involved. Now, luck—maybe.”
Her brow furrows. “It was never luck.”
“That sounds like aseriousoverstatement,” I shoot back with just enough arrogance to make her scoff, but there’s no heat behind it.
She never figured out that I let her win. And it was totally worth losing to see her smile.
“And for your information, I played a lot when I was in the Marines,” I warn her.
She turns to face me so that her knees press against my legs. She seems completely unaware of the contact, but I’m havingtrouble focusing on anything but the exact point where we’re touching.
“Is that athreat,Marco?” And there it is: the lilt in her voice, the smirky challenge in her eyes. The Scarlett I remember from high school is finally back.
I rise from my seat, all six foot, three inches of me, then fold my arms across my chest. “Only if you’re okay losing.”
Her eyes follow meup, up up, before tracking over my suit. There’s no intimidation on her face as I tower over her. Instead, she stands as well and rises to her tiptoes. “Okay, Mr. Cocky AC. You’re on.”
I lean in, our faces only inches apart, and point at her. “That’sMr.Cocky Ass Coachto you.”
She howls with laughter and the sound is an instant dopamine hit. I want to bottle that sound and keep it forever, in case I need proof of what pure joy sounds like. If calling myself a ridiculous nickname makes her laugh, I’ll do it without hesitation—anything to get her mind off the bad news and life’s cosmic unfairness.
She tilts her head, studying me with a puzzled smile. “Hey, it looks like you’re havingfun, Brendan Marco. How’s that possible?”
I smirk, because she’s so impossibly dazzling, and the very reason I’m enjoying myself. I just won’t be the one to admit it.
I put my hands up in surrender as I back toward the arcade. “Don’t jump to conclusions yet, Rossi.”
TEN
Brendan
“Are you warming up?” I try not to laugh at the way she’s stretching her arms, like she’s preparing for an Olympic match instead of a friendly competition.
“Of course I am.” She windmills her arms and nearly takes out someone by the pinball machine. “Not all of us have the unfair advantage of being athletically gifted, Marco.”
I take off my suit coat, rolling up the sleeves of my white dress shirt. Her eyes track my tattooed forearms before she takes the puck and gives it a hard smack across the table. I scramble to block it with my mallet, sending the puck back to her. “How about giving a guy a warning before you start?”
“That’s my whole plan.” She smiles deviously, returning the puck. “To catch you off guard.”
Considering my arms are longer, my aim better, she puts up a pretty good fight. When she gets the first point, she lifts her arms in the air and crows, “YES! Brendan Marco is going down.”