Authors: LD Davis
“I don’t really care.” Leo’s voice was gentle, yet husky. His fingers trailed over mine once more before carefully closing over them. “I know that makes me sound like a dick, but I don’t really care if you’re tired. I am trying to make up for nine years of lost time.”
My lungs evaporated, like totally left my body. I felt like I wasn’t breathing at all as I looked up at him and as his thumb traced lightly over my knuckles.
I should say no and go back to my hotel room. I should say no. Tabitha, say no.
“Okay,” I said, ignoring that little voice in my head. “But I want to at least stop at my hotel and change.”
Leo’s grin was huge and infectious. He looked like a little boy that was just told he won a lifetime supply of candy.
Candy…Leo’s kisses…
“That’s fine,” he said happily.
I stepped back from him, pulling my hand out of his because hell, we were standing as close as lovers, holding hands, in the middle of a room that still had a lot of people in it. People who knew that Leslie used to be his girlfriend and that I used to be Leslie’s best friend.
I saved Leo’s address in my phone and then made my rounds to say goodbye to my old classmates. I promised Leo I would be over in an hour and then left for my hotel room. I took a quick shower and changed into a pair of denim capris and a nerdy T-shirt that said “Bookworm” on it, with a cute cartoon worm with reading glasses and an open book in its little wormy hands. I slipped on some flip-flops and pulled my hair out of the French roll it had been in, brushing it out until it fell in soft layers on my shoulders.
When I was finished, I still had a few minutes to spare, so I sat down on the edge of my bed and shot Leslie a text. I wasn’t quite sure what to say. I was worried about what other people may tell her about Leo’s little displays of affection, but maybe it didn’t look as bad as I imagined. Everyone knew Leo and I were good friends, too. I decided to just make it simple and casual.
Hey, Les! How are you? I’m in Miami for the reunion—I actually enjoyed it. Wish you could have made it. Miss you. Hit me up sometime so I can tell you all about it.
I sighed after I sent the message. If she answered me at all, it would probably be days and have nothing to do with what I said, and she most likely wouldn’t call. I accepted long ago that our friendship would never be like it was before, that she really wasn’t my best friend anymore, but it made my chest ache. I didn’t know what happened between us, besides the obvious, but she didn’t know about any of that. Maybe she just outgrew me, which kind of made me feel stagnant, like old, dirty water left in a bucket too long, good for nothing.
Okay, so maybe I had a hard time letting go. We shared a lot of good times together, and she was there for me when shit got real, especially when we confirmed my brother was doing drugs, and long before that she had been the friend I held hands with on the playground. We had planned out our lives when we were only nine. We knew who we would marry, how many kids we would have, each with a name, and we knew where we would buy our side-by-side houses. Nothing turned out as planned, and I understand that that’s life, but it didn’t hurt any less not to have her a part of my life.
But…a part of me believed in karma. I lost my best friend because of my actions, for breaking that code. It didn’t matter if I told her or not. The universe knew what I did, and the universe had given me a huge reprimand.
My thoughts were interrupted by an incoming text. Hopeful that it was Leslie so I could confess my sins, I eagerly opened my messaging app, but it was just Leo. Well, not just Leo, but it wasn’t Leslie. I frowned a little
e.
You better not stand me up, Tacky.
I rolled my eyes and smiled. I hated that nickname, but I hadn’t heard it in years.
Calm down, loser. I’m on my way
.
I put the phone in my back pocket and left to go visit with my friend. Leslie’s high school sweetheart. And the guy that probably, still to that day, knew me better than any other guy ever did or ever would. That comforted me.
And scared the hell out of me.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked Leo as I observed the small mess on his countertop and the pans of food on his stove.
“Making breakfast,” he looked at me like it should have been obvious.
“I thought we agreed that it’s way too early for breakfast, and didn’t you just eat a ton of food a few hours ago?”
Leo put his hands up in defense. He spoke around the pile of bacon he just stuffed into his mouth. “I’m a guy, Tabs. I’m always hungry. I eat a lot.”
I crossed my arms and looked at his well-managed body with disdain. He had changed into a dark gray T-shirt that clung to his athletic frame and a pair of black gym shorts.
“I guess all of the calories you consume automatically just turn into muscle, huh?” It was meant to be sarcastic and a little bitchy, but Leo grinned at me as he chewed and then swallowed.
“You checking me out, Tabs?”
I blew air out my mouth, making my hair flutter. “Not on your life, Pesciano,” I lied. I mean, how could I not check him out? He was always a good-looking guy and I didn’t think it was possible for him to get better looking with age, but he did. He totally pulled it off. He was smoking hot before, but now he was just…on fire.
“Stop pouting and come over here and help me cook,” he said, still wearing that stupid grin.
I sighed and rounded the long counter that separated his kitchen from the living room and met him at the stove. He handed me the spatula for the pancakes.
“Why do I always get pancake duties?” I whined.
“Because you’re the best pancake maker there is,” he said, nudging me gently.
“Okay, I can live with that,” I said with a small lift of my shoulder. “Is this what you do on your dates? Bring the woman to your house and cook?”
“Is this a date?” he asked in that soft voice he had used at the party.
“No, it is not,” I said quickly and pointed my spatula at him.
“Okay, don’t get violent. I rarely bring my dates home.”
“But since I’m not a date, I’m allowed into the swanky bachelor pad?”
And it was swanky. One room flowed into the next without any walls to separate them. Two whole walls in the dining room and living room were made of glass with an ocean view. Even in the dark night, I could catch a glimpse of the ocean crashing to the shore not too far away. Between those enormous windows and the skylights in the ceiling, the place probably got a lot of natural sunlight during the day. The couch and chairs were a dark blue, masculine in color and design, but also looked pretty comfortable. The décor was simple, but elegant. The place wasn’t cluttered with useless showy items.
“Even if you were a date—by the way, I think this qualifies as a date—you will always be allowed in the pad.”
I smiled at that but said, “This isn’t a date.”
He murmured something softly in Italian that I didn’t catch. I understood Italian fairly well after studying the language throughout high school and college, but I had no idea what he said. Whatever it was, sent warmth racing down my spine.
Okay, I admit, I used to love when he did that when we were kids. He could have said “I like pickles” and it would have been a turn-on. I never admitted it to him then, since I had such a hate/hate relationship with him, but I did tell Leslie it was kind of sexy. We had laughed about it and used fake Italian accents for the rest of that day.
“What did you say?” I asked, staring at him.
“Oh.” He actually looked a little embarrassed.
Unbelievable
. “Nothing. I think we’re done. Nice job, pancake lady.”
I flipped the final pancake high and caught it with my spatula. Psh, yeah, I rocked at pancakes.
“So what are you working on?” Leo asked a little while later as we sat at the counter with plates of food. He poured a glass of orange juice for me and waited for my answer.
Ugh
.
I loved my job, being an author was exactly what I dreamed of doing. How many people truly get to live their dream? I was one of the lucky ones, but sometimes I really hated talking about what I did. People ask questions, and that’s fine, but then they want me to tell them the whole story before I’ve even written it, or they make bizarre suggestions that have nothing to do with the storyline, or they think they know my characters better than I do and try to tell me how to write my books. It drives me bananas.
“I am working on the first book in a series for young adults,” I said after a sip of juice.
“What is it about?”
“Hmm.” I crunched into some bacon.
“What? You don’t want to tell me?” Leo’s eyebrow arched.
“It’s just...I don’t usually talk about what I’m writing,” I said with a small shrug.
“Come on. You know I used to love hearing about your latest projects.”
So true. When Leo and I finally became actual friends and started to get along like decent human beings, he always asked me about what I was writing and after I realized he was seriously interested, I always told him after that.
So I told him about my books and his interest wasn’t feigned. He listened intently and asked questions. He looked at me the entire time, which made it hard for me to speak without stumbling over my words. His gaze was more than interested, but I felt like he was trying to soak up every inch of my face and store it away in his memory for safekeeping.
I helped him clean up after breakfast and by the time we finished, we were both yawning non-stop.
“Why don’t you sleep here?” Leo asked as I leisurely checked out his movie and music collection. There was an entire corner devoted just to entertainment. Books, movies, and various types of music were neatly lined up on floor to ceiling shelving.
I ignored his question entirely, but he was impossible to ignore altogether. He followed so closely behind me that when he spoke, I could feel his breath filtering through my hair and landing softly on my neck.
“Who still buys CDs?” I teased, picking up a random CD. “No iPod?”
“I have an iPod, but there’s something comforting about having a CD or even a record.” Beside me, he plucked a record off of the bottom shelf.
“I think I recognize some of this music from your bedroom from fifteen years ago,” I said, running my hand over a Nirvana case. “This
is
the same disc from fifteen years ago. Oh my god,” I gasped. I had reached his bookshelf and the first few books at the top were books I wrote.
He reached above me and gently ran a hand over the spines. He had each book in paperback and hardcover.
“You read all of these?” I asked, spinning around and gaping at him.
His gaze settled on me. His smile made me feel warm and fuzzy. “Of course, I did, Tabitha. I’m your number one fan, always have been and always will be.”
I felt the color rush to my cheeks. The words seemed to have a deeper meaning than what was on the surface and it made my breath catch ever so softly. I offered him an appreciative smile before turning my head back to the books.
“Oh, and I also have...” He put his hand on my hip to guide me to another shelf and with his other hand, he pulled a black box off of the top of the shelf. He balanced it with one hand because he never took his other hand off of me. My skin warmed where his hand rested.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Take the lid off and see for yourself.” He looked at me intently.
I hesitated before taking it off, but when I did, I gasped again. Inside was a stack of magazines, and I instantly knew what they were.
“You collected all of the magazines that I wrote for,” I said, picking up the top magazine in the stack.
“I also have copies of anything else you’ve ever publicly published—clippings from the school paper and even a short story you had written for Leslie.”
“She gave it to you?” I asked, feeling offended.
“No way. She let me copy it, though.”
I didn’t know what to say. I was completely astonished. I wasn’t very surprised that Leo followed my career, but he owned everything he could possibly own that was in connection with me. My own mother didn’t have half as much as Leo did.
“Will you sign all of my books?” Leo asked as he put the cover back on the box. He reached up to put it back and his shirt pulled up over his stomach; I felt my eyes widen. His stomach wasn’t made of those inhuman looking ripples like some guys had, but it was obviously hard with well-worked muscles, and there was a thin line of dark hair that started just below his navel and disappeared into his shorts.
I tore my eyes away as his shirt began to fall back into place, but it was too late. I was caught.
“I knew you were checking me out,” Leo said, his green-blue eyes bright with amusement and…damn…desire.
“You should probably lay off of the pancakes and bacon,” I said flatly as I turned away from him. I felt stupid for saying that, especially since I was the one who obviously needed to lay off of the pancakes and bacon.
“You want me,” Leo said in a cocky, but teasing tone.
“I want you about as much as I want an incurable disease,” I shot over my shoulder as I moved forward and started looking at the various framed pictures settled on different surfaces. Many of them were of Leo’s family, his trips to Italy, and of him in the restaurant, but there were a few old ones in there, too, and I saw at least two of me.
“So,” Leo said, right behind me, sliding his hand onto my hip again as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Thank goodness it wasn’t skin to skin, because I would have probably caught on fire. “What you’re saying is that I am like an incurable disease, right?”
“Yes, a really bad one,” I said insolently.
“So, in essence, what you are saying is that you want me bad, and that you can’t shake me,” Leo said, so proud of himself for coming to his ridiculous conclusion.
I turned around to face him, making his hand fall away from me.
“What I am saying is that you make me sick,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.
He was already close to me, but he stepped in so close that I took a sudden step back, only to find that I literally backed myself up into a corner with the shelves at my back and to my right, and now Leo’s strong, muscular arm on my left as he rested his hand on a shelf behind me. He put his other hand on my hip again and took another unbelievable step, spreading his legs wide so that they were on either side of mine.
“So,” Leo said, his voice soft and sizzling hot just like his hard body that was now pressed against mine. “What you’re saying is that I make you hot and sweaty. What you are telling me is that I take your breath away and make you gasp for air. You’re telling me that I invade and then violate your body and wreak havoc on your senses and scramble your brain and make your heart beat erratic and unstable. If that’s what you’re telling me, Tabitha, then I like making you sick. I like being your disease, and I will infect you again and again.”
Holy. Shit.
Gawd
. As if his words were so damn true, I felt my body heat rising and a thin layer of moisture pebbled on my neck. My lungs had taken another trip, because breathing was impossible, and good fucking grief, I could feel the length of him pressing against me like a soldier standing at attention at my gates. Every inch of my skin tingled and burned and felt like electricity, and my heart, my poor heart was going to give up at any second and kill me.
I could let him completely take over and get into my system, or I could fight the infection. Maybe there wasn’t an antidote, but I had the right dose of medicine to wipe away most of the symptoms.
“Why didn’t you invite Leslie to the party?” I asked in a rush of air as I tried to breathe. I swallowed hard as his eyes darkened and his body stiffened. “I mean, I know you guys haven’t been together for a long time, but that’s all water under the bridge, isn’t it?”
Leo inhaled deeply and let it out slowly through is nose as he stared at me. He knew what I was doing, and regardless of how he felt about it, it was working. He stepped away from me, like way away from me. He walked halfway across the room before he even bothered to answer me.
“I did invite her. She didn’t answer, and yes, it’s all water under the bridge, for me anyway,” he said as he took a beer out of the fridge. “For you two, I don’t know.”
I didn’t have to ask what that meant. I knew what it meant. He was talking about our girl code. I didn’t want to get into that with him. It was the reason our friendship had come to an abrupt halt nine years ago, and I wasn’t interested in doing that again with Leo. For the time being, it was time to walk away. I knew that judging by the way he leaned against the counter, one leg crossed over the other, the muscle in his jaw twitching slightly and the rest of his body stiff with…anger? Disappointment? Hurt? A combination of them all?
“I better go,” I said softly as I picked my purse up off of the couch. “If I don’t leave soon, I’ll never make it back in one piece. I’ll see you in a few hours for the beach thing.”
As I moved past him, he said one word. “Stay.”
I stopped and looked at him. “That’s…I probably should just go back…”