“When I was little I called my dad’s great aunt Virginia Aunt Vagina the whole time we were visiting her. My parents were mortified and had no idea how to explain my inappropriate error to me, so I pretty much called her that until I understood the difference.”
By this time Scott was choking on laughter. We reached the restaurant and he held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, I’m no longer intimidated.”
“Good.” I smiled at him as he held the door open for me and we stepped into the warmth of the restaurant.
Scott gave his name to the hostess and she led us through the front dining room and into the back dining room to a cozy table for two.
There was a little awkwardness when we sat down so I resorted to my fallback – teasing. “So, cradle snatcher, how does it feel to be on a date with a sixteen-year-old?”
“It helps that she doesn’t look sixteen. And anyway, a little birdie told me you’re seventeen soon.”
“In a few months.”
“We’ll be seventeen together then. Late birthday,” he explained. “I don’t turn eighteen until my first semester at uni.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve applied to all the usual, but we want St. Andrews.”
“We?”
“My parents are really involved in my academic career.”
“That’s good. Sometimes —” I stopped talking, the words deserting me as my eyes clashed with Marco’s.
What the hell?
My gaze drank him in, taking in the stained apron tied around his waist and the tray of dirty dishes in his hands. Marco was a busboy for his uncle? Since when?
I moved my lips, curling them into a smile that quickly disappeared as I processed Marco’s expression. His gaze flicked from me to Scott and back to me again.
His jaw clenched, and his knuckles turned white as his grip on the tray tightened. There was unmasked fury in his eyes.
My mouth fell open in shock as he turned on his heel and marched out of sight.
“Hannah?” Scott asked, drawing my gaze back to him.
“Sorry. I thought I saw…” I smiled weakly. “Never mind. What were we saying?”
I worked my arse off to remain present in the conversation because Scott was nice and charming and down-to-earth. He wasn’t some huge, brooding American who kept throwing me dirty looks anytime he had to come into the dining room.
After the main course, Scott excused himself to go to the restroom and as soon as he was out of earshot, I twisted my head to look at Marco. The restaurant was too busy for me to shout his name, but I waited until he felt my gaze. He looked at me and I waved him over.
He gave me a slight shake of his head and walked out.
I felt that rejection so acutely I lost my breath for a second.
I never saw him again for the rest of the evening and any attempt at not being distracted was lost to me, as I was lost to thoughts of Marco. I didn’t understand what had happened. Was he jealous? And if he was jealous, then why on earth hadn’t he asked me out a long time ago? It wasn’t like I hadn’t made it clear I liked him. Right?
Scott walked me home and I managed some one-word answers. At my door, I gave him a distracted kiss on the cheek and disappeared inside, feeling confused, guilty, and more than a little bit tired of the whole thing.
CHAPTER 5
“Miss?”
“Miss Nichols?”
“Miss!”