Page 64 of Ice Cold Heart

“I also know you’ve never let him mark you before.”

I wasn’t going to discuss how I’d gotten lost in the moment, lost in Cole—enough that a thrill had shot through me when I’d felt the pull on my neck. I wanted his mark on me, even though it would cause problems as soon as I got home and my dad saw it.

Marco must have sensed my unwillingness to talk because he shook his head. “Fine. At least tell me you’re taking this seriously, because he sure as hell is.”

I forced out a scoff. “It’s not like that.”

He sent me a look questioning my intelligence and held up a finger. “You can’t sleep unless he’s next to you.” Another finger. “You spend all your free time at his house or texting him.” A third finger. “You’re madly?—”

I grabbed his hand, stopping his diatribe. “You’ve made your point. Also, I can sleep without him next to me, just not as well. It has nothing to do with him. His bed is massive and perfect.”

Marco snickered. “Sure. It’s his massive, perfect bed you’re after.”

“Not everything is about sex.”

He sat back with a smug smile. “Exactly. You and him aren’t only sex, so you might as well admit you want to marry him and have his giant hockey babies.”

I rubbed my temple. “Why can’t I enjoy the middle ground? There’s plenty of space between only sex and baring his children. Cole makes me happy. He’s kind and strong and so freaking smart. He lights up when he sees me, and every day, I count the seconds until I can be with him again. Every day.”

“Tell me again how it’s not serious,” Marco drawled.

I flipped him off, but his smirk only widened. He knew he was right. Dammit.

My phone buzzed on the desk between us, and I flipped it over to check the notification without thinking. A text from an unknown number popped up, and I pushed the phone away in disgust. I wasn’t interested in anything Scott had to say, but he hadn’t gotten the message yet.

“Asshole,” I muttered, then remembered too late Marco’s addiction to gossip.

He snatched my phone out of my reach and read the message.

“We really need to discuss the concept of boundaries, Marco.” My mild rebuke went right over his head as he frowned at the screen, then scrolled up.

“Have you read these?”

The mild annoyance from Marco forcing me to admit my feelings shifted into dread. “No. I’m not interested in his bullshit.”

He pushed my phone toward me. “Why not block him?”

I hadn’t read the messages after the first few because I hated the way I reacted to Scott—guilt followed by the urge to apologize. Fuck him. I’m not the one who should apologize. He brought his own downfall on himself. I only helped it along a little.

Blocking him, though, felt like turning my back on something dangerous. Not physically. He never hurt me, but he was a master at getting me to do what he wanted. Deep inside, I thought I might need those messages one day. Especially if I needed to defend myself for the article.

Marco held my gaze, waiting patiently, and I couldn’t make myself lie to him or brush him off again. The weight of what I’d done wasn’t unpleasant, but it got heavy sometimes. Telling Cole had helped, maybe telling Marco would too.

“I dated Scott for two years as he emotionally manipulated me, then I came home to find him in bed with my mom. I left and never came back.”

“Is that why he’s upset?”

“Scott was so convinced of his own invulnerability he didn’t even try to hide his shit in the end. I collected evidence and published an anonymous tell-all article detailing all the ways he was cheating, including but not limited to paying for papers, bribing assistants with drugs to change his grade, and fucking one of his teachers. Not a good look for a senior member of his business frat. The school didn’t appreciate his extracurriculars too much either.”

Marco’s mouth dropped open. “Holy shit, Avery. Remind me never to cross you.”

“He didn’t know it was me, would never believe his meek little girlfriend had claws. Except I was only ever meek with him. So no. I don’t read his messages.”

“Maybe you should,” he said mildly.

I tucked my phone away in my messenger bag and stood. “Maybe I will. One day. See you tomorrow for delivery duty.”

His fingers tapped out a rapid drumbeat on the desk. “Since we’re dispensing unwanted advice, I have one more.”