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Before Carter could think of what to say, Marco’s hands were on either side of his face, pulling him down. Carter grunted in surprise when Marco’s lips pressed against his. It was pretty chaste compared to the kissing Carter was used to, but he could taste the fruity cocktail on Marco’s lips and feel the thud of his heart as he pressed close.

“The fuck was that for?” Carter asked, feeling a little dazed.

Marco huffed. “Because I wanted to. And because it was the only way I could think to show you that I don’t give a shit what was just said. I’ve seen enough of you that I like having you around, and I wanted to kiss you, damn it.”

Carter wrinkled his nose. “You’re getting my language.”

Marco gave another, albeit lighter huff, smiling. “Sorry. Lost my temper for a second there. But I meant it. I did want to kiss you. Wanted to the moment I saw you standing on the dance floor waiting for me to stop.”

Damn it. He had no idea what was wrong with this man. He was so intent on trying to get close to Carter. Marshall had been right. Carterwasnothing but trouble. But how the hell was he going to tell Marco that when the man had just kissed him fiercely, and his eyes were practically glowing with hope?

“Let’s get out of here,” Carter grunted at him. “Somewhere where we don’t have to deal with bullshit.”

“My apartment it is,” Marco said and for a moment, something sharp and hungry flashed in his gaze and was gone.

And God save him, Carter felt his stomach flip nervously.

Fuck.

“Sounds good,” he said instead.

MARCO

The ride back to his apartment was quiet, but Marco didn’t think that was a bad thing. He was beginning to suspect Carter was the type of person who, despite his gruff bluster, just wanted peace and quiet in his life. Marco was sure his personality didn’t help much, but the way people treated him sure as hell didn’t help.

He was still pissed that Sloane had been so hostile. For as long as Marco had known him, Sloane had always been a gruff, blunt, and grumpy man who didn’t veer from saying what was on his mind. Marco had never known him to be a complete bastard, and he wasstillfurious.

If it wasn’t those women on the street assuming the worst of Carter, it was Mrs. Palmer and her suspicions. Marco wasn’t ready to deal with the same from the people who were supposed to be his friends.

“Why are you still glaring at the window?” Carter asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

“I’m not glaring,” Marco said, not pulling his eyes away.

“Yeah, you are. And we’ve been sitting outside your apartment building for almost a minute.”

That got his attention. Marco snapped his head around and found Carter standing on the sidewalk, scowling at him andthe Uber driver smirking at him through the rearview mirror. Feeling his face warm, Marco scooted across the seat, quickly opening the app on his phone to tip the man into hopefully forgetting he’d just had an idiot in his car.

Carter rolled his eyes as they mounted the steps to the building. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“I’m not still mad,” Marco lied, unlocking the door and opening it harder than he meant to.

“Right,” Carter said dryly. “Because you’re not stomping right now.”

“I’m not,” Marco said, careful to make sure he didn’t stomp like he usually did when he was pissed off.

“Fucking hell,” Carter muttered as he followed Marco down the wide hallway to where his apartment waited. “Stop being so pissed off. I don’t care what Marshall…Sloane, whatever his name is, has to say, alright? And I don’t need you defending me.”

Marco sighed, shoving his key into the door and turning it. He stopped, letting his forehead lean against the door. “I didn’t do it because you needed it. I did it because I wanted to.”

“Why the fuck do you care?” Carter asked, voice harsh.

Marco whirled around, chewing his bottom lip. “Because that’s the third person I’ve seen treat you like shit. The first time? Fine, whatever, I can shrug it off even if it sucks because you didn’t deserve it. But they were scared, and it probably looked bad to them, even if it was stupid.”

“You said that twice.”

Marco ignored him. “And then you help me with Terry, and Mrs. Palmer gave you the dirtiest look like you were just some street trash that wandered up to mug us. And all you were doing was helping me!”

“That happens all the time, Marco, don’t?—”