I drag her notebook to my lap and place my page atop hers. Once again, I think of that day, catching her in my arms, two feathers caught in the wind, making the pen move fast across the paper.

I, Grady Macmillan Tripp, release my guilt to the swamp, where it’ll find Marina’s fears, wrap them up, and pull them into the mud where they belong. Forever.

She nods, reading my words. “I like that.”

“Me, too.” I start to fold the paper in half, done with the assignment, but she grabs it from my hands.

“Not so fast. You forgot a few things,” she tells me with a smile. “And Macmillan?”

“It’s a family name. My father’s name.”

She giggles. “Aw, that’s sweet. Can I call you Mac-Attack? Macaroni? Mac-nificent?”

“Not if you expect me to answer,” I grumble.

As she writes on my paper, I watch her—the way her high ponytail falls to her shoulder as she leans over, the tiny dimple in her cheek as she smirks at what she’s doing, hell, even the graceful movement of her fingers and the unique smattering of freckles on the outside of her palm hold my attention. I want to be one of her freckles, forever attached.

Before I register what I’m asking, the words come out. “Come to my place for dinner. Tonight.”

She peers up at me, lips spreading further as she considers it. “Oh, to the Fortress of Solitude? How intriguing.”

“I mean, if you want,” I stutter, “if you don’t have like plans… whatever… um, no pressure.”

She smiles. “I’d love to.” She holds up what she’s added to my paper. “It’s working already. See?”

I read her new words:

I, GMT, also let go of self-imposed overworking and taking responsibility for everyone else, especially at my own expense. I promise to be more careful with myself, relax and have fun, and not be afraid to spend more time with Marina.

I realize that is what I want, as if her words grant me permission. Grinning, I initial my approval beside her addition.

But as the others join us and the makeshift ceremony ensues, misgivings take over. Everything about her feels completely beyond me—the man who swore off relationships after fate proved I didn’t deserve to be in one. I don’t deserve her.

And if I get her alone, how the hell will I keep my hands off her?

So, instead of relaxing, I switch into protector mode again, protecting her from me.

31. Marnie

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Marnie