"How--" Marco stopped, coughed, "--how am I--" stopped, coughed again, "--supposed to--" coughed again, and this time just held a hand up and wheeled it around, figuring she could figure out the rest of the sentence on her own. Was he supposed to acknowledge the hint hidden in that invitation? Was there a hidden message in that invitation?
Shit, shit, shit shit shit.
He grabbed his drink again, hoping that it would soothe his throat. It didn't, but it at least helped him get his breathing under control again. "Shit. Uh, sorry," he managed, his voice now hoarse. "I'm okay," he assured her, forcing a lopsided smile.