For the takeout.
For...
Leon’s tousled head lifted… and he impregnated half the population of Claremont with the heated look adorning his gorgeous, shadowed face.
Voice gruff, a light smile touching his lips, he murmured, “Anytime, sweetheart.”
My bed was less than three feet off the floor, but I might as well have been hanging over the edge of a hundred-and-fifty-foot sheer cliff face.
Clinging on by my fingertips.
TWENTY-SIX
LISS
I dropped my feet to the carpeted floor and gripped the edge of the mattress as slices of sunlight streaked through the partially shaded blinds and landed across my thighs. Glancing back over my shoulder through a tangled curtain of platinum hair, I watched Leon's eyelids flicker a few times before blinking open.
His swollen lips tilted up in a sleepy smile that had my toes curling into the soft pile beneath me. Mussed tawny blonde hair, drowsy eyes, rippling chest with a light smattering of hair—he had that sexy just woke up look down pat.
He reached out and ran the backs of his fingers over the soft material of my cotton sleep shirt. An involuntary shudder ran through me when he trailed them lightly down my spine before turning on his side and propping his head up on his bent arm.
“The sun's out and she's still here,” Leon teased, his low voice husky.
Reaching up to work my fingers through my knotted hair, I said, “Don't be weird.”
He grinned, rolling onto his back, the thick muscles in his arms shifting when he folded them behind his head.
Saliva pooled in my mouth. God, the guy had a body. Where the fuck had that even come from? I squeezed my thighs together and inhaled a deep breath, averting my gaze, because the sight of him had me wanting to climb on and ride him like Seabiscuit. Again.
And I couldn’t keep doing that.
His soft chuckle had my head twisting back round, my narrowed eyes fixing on his. “This doesn't change anything between us, Pretty Boy. I still hate you.” A mocking voice inside my head questioned if I had a single fucking clue what that word meant.
Leon pushed himself up and settled his back against the headboard, running a hand through his hair and tilting his head to one side with a half smirk. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, Snow Queen.”
He watched me quietly for a while, his white teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he mulled something over in his mind. “Go out with me tonight?”
“What?” My back straightened, and I shook my head. “No. We're not dating.”
He shrugged. “Didn't say we were.”
My heart jack hammered. “I'm not making plans with you.”
“Why not?”
Blinking, I jerked my head up, nibbling at the inside of my lower lip. “Because... this isn't a thing.”
“Why not?” he repeated, running his nails over his jaw.
“Fo
r obvious reasons.”
“Which are?”
Ask me a different one.
Shit.