go!”
Leo grabs his phone and wallet from the top of the fridge and shoves them in his pockets before making his way to me. Holden’s already halfway to his truck when I feel Leo’s hand on my back, leading me through the door. Breath hot against my temple, he says, “You look nice.”
It’s three words spoken, but I read it as more.
You look nice. I like you in dresses. Did you dress like this for me?
Yes, Leo Preston, I did. I put on a pale-yellow summer dress that I know shows off my legs and my ass—the two things I catch you staring at the most because, even though we can’t be together, I still want you to want me. And I hate myself for it.
“Shotgun!” Leo shouts, bringing me back to reality. He’s running to Holden’s truck, and I run after him.
“Wait, no! I’m the best friend.” I stomp my foot when his fingers reach the door handle.
“My legs are longer,” he protests, his heated gaze trailing up my length, from my ankles to the top of my head.
“Now, now, children,” Holden chides as he gets behind the wheel. “Why don’t you rock-paper-scissors?”
I put my hand out, fist balled, between Leo and me. “Ready?” I ask, and his large hand covers my entire fist, the ends of his fingers circling my wrists. I’ve spent three days doing everything I can not to be close enough to him that he could touch me. Leo’s touch is so much more than skin-on-skin contact. It’s so charged with pent-up emotion, that even something so innocent as holding my hand makes my breath catch, my knees weak.
I’m in deep, and I don’t know how to fix it.
He opens the door and motions for me to get in. I take his offered seat, and he waits until I have my seatbelt on before closing the door. Once he’s crammed in the backseat, like one of those clowns at the circus driving around the miniature car, Holden says, starting the engine, “When we pick up Brianna, you’re both in the back.”
It takes twenty minutes to get to Holden’s date’s house, and while he goes to the door to get her, I get out and hop in the back with Leo. His legs are so long that he has to sit semi-sideways with his feet on the opposite side to be able to fit. I sit with my legs crossed so he doesn’t have to move. He watches me, unabashed. “Want me to move?”
“No, it’s fine.” I wave a hand in the air and turn to him. “Have you ever met someone through a dating app?”
Leo shakes his head.
Yeah, boy who looks the way he does—he’d have no problems meeting girls. Even for hookups. Especially for hookups. With that thought staining my brain, I suppress a gag.
Leo’s lips pull up at the corners. “What about you?”
“No,” I say. “Besides, you have to be eighteen to use those things.”
He busts out a laugh. “No one actually adheres to those laws. It’s so fucking cute how innocent you are.” And then he tugs my hair. And I swear on everything, I don’t know why or what it is about him pulling my hair that has my eyes drifting shut in pleasure and… moaning. Out loud.
Oh, no.
Luckily, Leo doesn’t realize, or at least he doesn’t react. Verbally. But my eyes are still closed, and so I tilt my head his direction, open one eye, my nose scrunched, face flaming with embarrassment. He’s watching me, that full bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “You can’t do shit like that, Mia. Jesus.” And then he sits up taller, his hips shifting as he runs a hand over his—I look away. “You know…” he says, in that low, deep hum of his, and I know where this is going, and I know I should stop it. I don’t. “If I were a lesser man, I’d flip you on all fours, lift up that dress and fuck you from behind right now.” He pauses a beat. “Want me to?” It’s so lazy, the way his words spill from his lips. So effortless. “I could get you off before they get here.”
“Leo.” I don’t have anything to add. Just his name. That’s all.
“Unless you’re into people watching you, because I’m down. Whatever you want, babe.”
It’s undeniable, the way my body reacts, the evidence of it pooling between my legs. I hate that I’m like this. With him. And no one else. “You need to