Alyssa looked away, busying herself with stretching out her legs. Her right calf was half asleep from how she'd been sitting on it. Or, rather, how long she'd been sitting on it. Way to go, Aly. You knew you couldn't fall asleep.

He pressed a finger against the red mark on her calf. Alyssa gasped as the pressure exacerbated the pins and needles.

He sucked in a breath. "You're why..."

She chanced a glance. He gaped down at her, an expression that was part disgust and part anger twisting his face. Maybe she was dealing with this the wrong way. She should just be honest and have the conversation she'd wanted to have these past few days. "Look, Marco, it's okay."

"That's what you said in my d-dr-" He flew off the futon and glared down at her. "You had no fucking right."

Alyssa felt the blood drain from her face and she went lightheaded. Never in her entire life had Marco Vieri talked to or looked at her that way. Like he couldn't stand the sight of her. She pushed herself to sit on the futon, not yet able to stand while the room spun around her but not wanting to sit on the floor for this, either. "Marco-"

"No. It's one thing for me to let you into my house. It's another for you to try to get into my head."

"That's not-"

"You said you didn't want to invade my space. But invading my privacy is worse," he barked. Mumbling under his breath, his tone exasperated and bitter, he paced in front of her. "You knew. All this time, and here I thought, I thought..." His lips twisted. "I'm such a fucking idiot. I can't even..."

Finally, she stood, her hands clutched across her front to try to hold in the little warmth left inside her. "I'm sorry, Marco. I didn't mean anything-"

"You never do, do you? You just do your thing with no regard to the con-" He seemed to struggle to swallow. "Consequences."

She clutched her ribs harder, fighting to warm herself against his frigid tone and accusations. "What does that mean?"

"What kind of attention did you think you were going to get in that outfit the other day, huh? And giving Eric your phone number. Parading around in that bikini and hanging all over him. What did you expect to come of that?"

"What?" Tears stung her eyes. She'd hugged Eric once when they were leaving. The only one she'd wanted to hang on was Marco, but she'd resisted, since she wasn't sure where they stood. But after what they'd shared in the lake, this was what he thought of her? Her dreams shattered against the hardwood floor and her stomach tossed. God, she was going to be sick.

"You couldn't just fucking leave well enough alone, could you?"

Her head spun. "What are you talking about?"

His eyes scanned her face over and over, his mouth set in a carved scowl that turned his features harsh and foreign. He pointed at the futon. "How long has this b-bullshit been going on?"

She swallowed down the sour taste flooding her mouth. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

"I was just trying to help," she said, her voice cracking.

He scoffed. "You were trying to help me? The girl who's needed help her whole life? Jesus, Alyssa, if you were any more helpless, we'd have to call in a professional."

She took one step, then another. Away from him. Away from the ugliness of his words. Away from the shards of her heart that lay all over the floor. Tears constricted her throat. "Stop this, Marco. This isn't you."

"Oh, because you know me so well, do you? Grow the fuck up."

Alyssa shook her head, sending a hot tear spilling down her cheek. Shock and heartbreak had stolen her words. She looked at him one last time, then turned and left the room.

Behind her, he groaned. "Fuck, Aly. Wait..."

Chapter Eleven

Blocking out his tortured plea, Alyssa headed straight for the bathroom and swept her belongings into the cradle of her arms, then she dumped everything on her bed. No, Marco's bed. She couldn't stay there anymore. Almost on autopilot, she reached into her suitcase, grabbed the first pair of shorts she found, and tugged them on, not bothering to change out of her sleep shirt or put on a bra.

The front door slammed and Alyssa jumped, her breathing suddenly loud in her ears.

An engine roared once, twice. Betty. The car rumbled down the driveway, and the wheels squealed against the macadam as Marco tore down the street.

A sob ripped up Alyssa's throat. What the hell just happened?

She sank to her knees in front of her suitcase and curled over the clothes packed there. She'd known he'd be embarrassed if he learned what she'd been doing at night, but never could she have imagined this reaction. The rage, the ugliness of his words-maybe Van and Eric had been right. Maybe she really didn't know him, not anymore.

Her battered heart squeezed at the thought. She didn't understand why he'd reacted so badly, especially after what had happened between them yesterday, but to the depths of her very bones she didn't believe that the man who lashed out at her was the real Marco.

Almost didn't matter, though, did it? It was the one he'd wanted her to see, to believe.

Alyssa wiped her face with the hem of her T-shirt and stuffed the rest of her belongings wherever they fit in her overnight bag and suitcase, purposely burying the stupid teddy bear Marco had given her years before. She made the bed, intent on leaving things just as she'd found them, then carried her bags to the front door.

From her purse, she retrieved Marco's house key and tossed it on the futon. She carried all her belongings one by one onto the porch, locked the door behind her, then repeated the carry-and-drop routine at the curb. Once she had everything back in the car, she could almost imagine the past week hadn't happened.

Okay, not really, but it couldn't hurt more to pretend. Right?

The inside of the car was warm and Alyssa rolled the windows down to let in the cooler morning air. She groaned, imagining having to face Marco in two hours at Whiskey's-they were both on the earlier shift again.

She couldn't do it. Not yet. She needed at least the day to compose herself. It only took two phone calls to find someone willing to trade shifts, and that felt like a huge victory in the midst of the morning's devastation.

She could use the free day to start her apartment search. The thought didn't hold the joy it once would've.

Mechanically, she drove back to the little hotel that had been her first home here. No sooner had she pulled into the lot than she realized returning was a bad idea. If Marco had some crisis of conscience later, she really didn't want him showing up and trying to convince her to come back to his house. If he did, it would be purely out of a sense of obligation to Brady. And after everything, she really wouldn't be able to hide how much that hurt this time.

Pulling a u-ey, Alyssa waited at the light and debated, then turned left on the green toward the place she recalled having the next cheapest rates. Money wasn't the concern it had been almost two weeks ago, but she also didn't have it to burn, either.

Check-in was easy, and they even let her into her room right away. She dumped her things at the foot of the bed and fell heavily against the mattress. On her back, arms sprawled to her sides, Alyssa stared up at the popcorn ceiling, her chest painfully empty and her mind a whirling mess of confused thoughts.

Snap out of it, Aly. You have things to do.

She forced herself off the bed and down to the lobby, where she bought the local paper. The rental section was only two pages long, but she wasn't picky and she didn't need a palace, just something clean, safe, and affordable. After she circled everything that sounded promising, she started making calls. By eleven, she had two appointments set up for the afternoon, and the prospect of possibly solving her housing problem so soon dulled the sharpest edges of her grief.