Page 135 of Stolen Hearts
“Yep, think I’ve found the problem,” he says, motioning me to come forward and pointing at something he assumes I’ll recognize.
“Is it something that can be quickly fixed?” I ask, hoping and praying.
“You’ll need to have it changed out at a garage I’m afraid.”
He closes the bonnet before wiping the dirt on the back of his jeans.
Fuck. This is the last thing I need.
Not only am I late dropping off my keys to my old landlord, but at this rate I’m gonna miss Alexander’s pre-Grammy party too.
“Do you want me to drop you off anywhere?” Marco has picked up on my distress.
“Could you?”
I don’t want to impose on his evening, but I could really do with his help.
“Sure. I’ve not got anything else to do tonight.” His brows lift.
“You’re a life saver,” I say and head to the trunk to retrieve the boxes out of my car. “Could you give me a hand?” Marco stares in surprise at the number of boxes.
“This place is huge.” Marco places down the last two boxes on the dining table. “I can see why you moved from your old place.”
Marco had questioned why I’d given up an apartment in the heart of WeHo, but his jaw dropped when we entered the gated community and pulled up at Alexander’s house.
“It’s pretty cool, right?” I say, closing the front door with my foot and placing the last box down next to his.
“I think I need to ask Pietro for a pay rise, if you can afford a place like this.”
He laughs and then stares at me, a hint of inquisitiveness in his eyes, as if trying to work out how I can afford this.
“My friend cut me a good deal on the rent,” I say, palming him off.
“I need to get me one of those friends.”
He laughs, winks, and then nudges me in the arm as the door latch clicks open. Harrison walks through, drops his bag on the floor, plugs his key into the jack rack and then stares at me.
“You didn’t tell me we had visitors.”
The judgment in his tone grates against my ears. and his smirk as he folds his arms across his chest tells me he’s loving the role reversal from twelve hours earlier.
Marco steps forward and offers his hand.
“Sorry, I’m Marco, Chris’s work colleague. You must be his housemate. I love your place,” he says.
“He offered me a lift back, after my car broke down,” I say. For some reason I feel the need to justify the reason for Marco being in the house.
“Nice to meet you,” Harrison says, shaking Marco’s hand but not taking his eyes off of me.
Marco picks up on the tension and slides his hands into his pockets, pulling out his car keys and shaking them.
“I best be off,” he says.
“Thanks for all your help. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Marco sees himself out as Harrison heads to the couch and turns on the TV, only turning back once the door closes.
“Work colleague…”
