“Time to educate you with a true classic. Get ready to feel all the emotions, Leo Sterling.” She nestles up on the bed next to me, inviting Tebow to join us, which, of course, he does.
She clicks play on the remote, staring at the TV with childlike excitement in her eyes. “You have to watch!” She giggles, noticing that I haven’t taken my eyes off her.
“All right, all right. I’m watching.” I turn to the screen and tell myself to let go of all these damn feelings.
But her. She’s right here. She’s so sweet and so comforting, and she’s still wearing that goddamn plastic Super Bowl ring, and fuck, I want to tell her everything. Her soft skin and bright green eyes and insanely gentle voice were made to know me. To understand me. More than anyone else.
I take the remote and hit the pause button.
“Oh, come on,” she whines through a laugh. “At least give it a chance. You can’t go that wrong with Richard Gere, trust me.”
I focus on her eyes to calm my racing heart. “It’s not the movie.”
“What’s wrong, Leo?” Frankie chews her lower lip. She almost looks scared.
“I’m not just upset about the missed passes,” I say slowly. “I mean, I am. But there’s a reason for them, and I guess it’s really getting to me today.”
Frankie sets her hand on my forearm and gently rubs her thumb back and forth. “You can tell me anything you want.”
“It has to do with my dad.” Each syllable crashes like glass on the ground.
“You never talk about your dad. I didn’t want to ask.” She looks down at my hand, which somehow ended up on her leg.
Even though I’m sitting down, I needed to balance on her for this conversation. “That’s because he died,” I say bluntly, the words coming out harsher than I intended.
“Leo, I’m so sorry.” Frankie curls up against me, and I hold her tight.
“It was a car accident. My rookie year in the NFL. I got to see him in the hospital for a bit before he passed, and I promised him I would never stop trying to achieve greatness on the field. To achieve perfection. That’s why I’m so hard on myself when it comes to football.” I look down at the plastic ring on her slender finger. “And that’s why that thing means so much.”
She pulls the hand with the ring on it free, placing it on her heart. “Your rookie year…so five years ago?”
“Today.”
Without another word, Frankie wraps her arms around me. I shut my eyes and hope she never lets go. I lean into her, her strength and support allowing me to completely melt, to completely fall into her.
I lift my head and meet her gaze. My eyes start to sting. Frankie gently raises her hand and runs her thumb along my cheek.
“He would be so proud of you.”
“Not tonight. Not after those dumbass incomplete passes.”
She stares at me intently. “I don’t just mean the football player you are. The man you are, Leo. You are so much more than I ever could have imagined.”
I try to will the salt not to drip from my eyes, although I’ve never cared less in my life about whether I cry. This woman, this angel sitting next to me is somehow actually making me believe that he would be proud of me. She’s making me feel proud of myself.
“I’ve never really talked to anyone about this before. It makes me feel like kind of a pussy. I’ve always tried to just channel it into my game.” Why am I still opening up to her? Why does it feel so fucking good to pour all of this out and let her hold me like a damn baby?
She runs her fingers up and down my spine, and I look up to meet her loving gaze. Without thinking or hesitating, I kiss her. Not in a rip-your-clothes-off-and-bang-you sort of way, not even in a sexual way at all. I’m not used to kissing like this. It’s soft and gentle and seems to seal all of the emotions I just shared so they’ll stay forever between us.
She holds me for another second, then slowly sits up. “I guess I should probably go to bed.”
I watch her get up and guide the dog off the bed.
“Frankie.” Her name tumbles out of my mouth before I have the chance to stop it. “Will you please stay?”
She pauses in the doorway, her face flushed with emotion. “Leo, I—”
“We don’t have to do anything,” I interject quickly. “I just…want you here.”
Who am I?
“Well…”
Please say yes.
“What about Tebow?”
Relief and comfort wash over me. I gesture at the California king bed that I’m taking up about a quarter of. “I think there’s probably room.”
She smiles. “Okay.”
I pull the blanket back and watch Frankie and her giant dog nestle into the bed. Out of all the guests I’ve ever had in this bed, these two are by far my favorites. “Now, let’s watch this stupid movie.”
SEVENTEEN — Frankie
What the hell is that scratching sound? I open my eyes and quickly put together the puzzle pieces of reality. I slept with Leo last night. Well, we didn’t sleep together, not in that sense. We literally just slept in the same bed. Wrapped in each other’s arms for most of the night.
“Tebow, it’s too early,” I hiss at the dog scratching incessantly at the bedroom door. I usually don’t mind getting up to take him out, but the idea of slipping out from underneath the warm and heavy embrace of Leo’s bicep is just about the most unappealing thing ever.
Tebow whines at me. “Fine,” I groan, gently pulling Leo’s arm off of me and shuffling to take the dog out.
“Come back,” Leo mumbles, his sexy voice raspy with sleep.
I smile and usher the dog out of the room and to the front yard to pee. It’s barely seven a.m. The air is misty with dew and summer humidity, and the sun is just beginning to warm up and brighten the world. Leo’s vulnerable words float through my mind, and I think about how he’s never told anyone that stuff before. I think about how close I feel to him, and it scares me.
I bring the dog back in, and he bounds into the living room, assuming his usual perch on the corner of the sofa. At Leo’s command, I wander back to his bedroom and shut the door.
He smiles without opening his eyes as soon as I walk into the room. “Get back in here.”
I hurry into the bed and slip right back onto my side, underneath his arm with my back against his chest. The classic spooning position in which we spent the better part of the last eight hours.
Most of the night, I drifted in and out of sleep, feeling close to him, emotionally and physically. Feeling his chest rise and fall and the way he tightened his arm around me every so often. But right now, all I can feel is something…
Hard.
“Hey,” Leo moans softly next to my ear. The single word, combined with him pushing against me, sends a pool of warmth between my legs, and I instinctively push my hips back against his erection.
He draws in a slight gasp and begins to slowly glide his hand down the curve of my side. His fingertips send electricity pulsing through my body, making my hips rock as if they have a mind of their own.
“Thanks for staying with me last night.” Leo draws out each word as he slips his hand underneath my shirt and tightens his grip around my breast.
God, I want him so bad. Every breath…every inch…I shut my eyes and force my brain to think rationally. Should we?
My nipple instantly hardens against the palm of his hand. I arch my back, exposing my neck, which he instantly kisses, hard. Pulling my ass harder against his cock, he breathes deeply and traces his tongue along my jawline.
I gasp, and a tiny moan slips from my throat, which only seems to turn him on more. The length of his erection rages between my legs. No doubt he can feel the lake in my panties. I want him to feel it. I want him to know what he does to me.
I pull away from him, trying to shake the fog of desire from my brain and form a rational thought.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his hand gently caressing my side, a gesture so gentle and sweet, but somehow still
I draw in a shaky breath and peek at him over my shoulder. Christ, how does he get hotter every day? Every minute?
“The rest of the season,” I muster. “We have to pretend to be engaged. What if doing…this messes it up?”
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
But, God, I want to.
Filled with desperation for Leo and a physical need so intense it aches, I turn and face him. “It’s just sex, right?” I whisper.
His eyes flicker with hesitation, but he nods. He presses his mouth to mine and slips his tongue between my teeth.
“I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I met you,” Leo says breathlessly as he yanks off my T-shirt and starts kissing down my breasts.
I lean into him and let my head roll back. “The very moment?” I tease and moan through a shudder as he gently sucks on my nipple and massages my ass.
“Yeah. That Hefty bag of a sweater was a turn-on.”
I start to laugh, but then his mouth moves lower down my body, his lips bringing fireworks to every inch they touch. My body curls into him as he kisses and glides his tongue lower and lower.
I try, and fail, to keep my breathing steady and downplay the unbelievable arousal surging through my body. Lightly kissing the insides of my thighs, he slides a finger through the side of my panties and into my slick center, hitting a perfect spot and causing me to moan louder.
I look down at the messy brown hair, the perfectly chiseled jaw, and long and…talented fingers. I ache for more of him as he rubs his finger over my clit and back inside of me, causing an explosion of chills and desire to ripple through my body.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he moans, his words almost slurring with arousal. His lips are less than an inch from exactly where I want, no, need them to be. Leo pulls my waist toward him with a little more force this time and gently slides his tongue over me.
I grip his hair with both hands, letting my lips cry out his name.
He pauses for a second, keeping his tongue on me and staring up into my eyes.
I feel an unexpected giggle bubble in my chest, and he angles his head toward me. “Something funny, Ms. Monroe?” A smile plays at the corners of his mouth.
“It’s just…” I breathe steadily to try to slow down my heart. “Leo Sterling is going down on me. It doesn’t even feel real.” I turn my head to the side and push my face into the pillow.
Leo laughs and rests his cheek on the inside of my thigh. “Going down? Baby, that was just a little teasing.” He draws in a slow breath, taking in the magnetic desire pouring off of me in waves. “You want more?”
“Yes.” There’s really no other answer. I shut my eyes and let go of any doubt or hesitation or logic and just…feel him.
Leo’s tongue is like magic. He grips my hips with both hands as he slides it up and down, pulling me closer and pressing harder and harder. Pleasure crashes over me, and I beg him not to stop. Every muscle in my body contracts, and he digs his fingers into my hips as I come. I moan his name, and my body goes weak, every inch of me a complete puddle.
My heart is still slamming in my rib cage as he kisses his way back up my body, savoring the way I shudder with every breath.
“You’re insanely sexy.” He shifts on the bed so he’s on top of me. I feel his erection pulsing against me and am consumed by the need to feel it inside of me.
I tug at the waistband of his boxers. “Why do you still have these on?”
Leo smirks. “Get ’em the hell off.”
I giggle and slide my hands down the lines of his abs. Anticipation and desire and the heat of our bodies pressed together are all I can feel until…
That goddamn vibrating. I peek at my phone on the nightstand.
Incoming call: Luke Monroe
What the hell could he want?
I sigh. “It’s my brother. I really should take this. His wife is pregnant.” I give Leo an apologetic smile. “Two seconds, I promise. Don’t move.”
Leo’s head thuds to the pillow in disappointment as I hurry out of the room.
“Frankie, hey.” Luke’s voice sounds hesitant and slightly concerned.
“Is something wrong?” I snap. “Now’s not a great time.” I peek through the door at the insanely sexy, mostly naked NFL player eagerly waiting to screw me. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
“Okay, yeah, sorry. It’ll only be a second,” Luke assures me.
“All right, what’s up?”
“Well, I kinda slipped up and told Olivia that your engagement to Leo is a fake thing.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, Luke, I knew the moment I told you that you would blab to her as soon as you got home. That doesn’t worry me. I trust Olivia. Is that really why you called?”
“Sort of…” he continues. “She has a friend who works for the South Florida Sun, and she kind of—”
My heart drops. “Luke, what? Please tell me that your wife did not tell a reporter about my entirely fake engagement to a famous football star! My job is on the line here.”
“No, no. That’s not it. The reporter knows nothing, and Olivia and I both really tried to sell it. But she was over for dinner the other night, and she has…suspicions. How no one had heard of you, and Leo was acting very, well, single up until the announcement at the press conference. I just want to warn you that the reporter has some feelers out, so be careful.”
I swallow my concern and remind myself that this will pass. There’s no doubt that Leo and I are really convincing. “Thanks for letting me know, Luke. I’m not too worried, but I’ll be careful.”
Luke sighs. “Frankie. Be extra careful. Not just with the press or the image or whatever. I know you’re gonna shut me up and bitch me out, but I really don’t want you to get hurt again.”
“Luke, please—”
“Let me finish. I know what feelings look like, especially on you. You can deny it all you want, but you like him, and he’s going to break your heart. You need a nice guy, not some famous, rich, cocky jock.”
I let each syllable sink in, one by one. I open my mouth to protest, but the words stay caught in my throat.
“It’s not like that, Luke,” I stammer. But I peer through the bedroom door cracked open an inch. “I gotta go. Talk later.”
Yes, it is like that.
I hang up the phone. Taking a deep breath to collect myself, I walk into Leo’s room.
“Thank God you’re back. I’m losing my mind, baby. Come here.” Leo eagerly pats the sheets next to him.
I stay frozen in the doorway, trying to drink in the beautiful picture in front of me, knowing I very well may never see it again.
“Leo, I’m so sorry. I just don’t think we should have sex.” The words come out quiet and weak and like I’m trying to convince myself more than I’m trying to convince him.
He sits up suddenly and draws in a breath, clearly trying to hide the rush of disappointment that comes over him. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I hope you don’t feel like I was pressuring you.”
Jesus, he’s so sweet. He’s not even pissed? Or annoyed? I know how guys get about “blue balls” or whatever, and I’m sure it’s not something Leo is accustomed to.
“No, no. You didn’t pressure me at all. Don’t worry about that.” I sit on the edge of the bed, still wearing nothing but panties and a T-shirt. “Trust me, I was all about it.” I smile at him, trying to lighten the mood.
He places a gentle hand on my lower back. “What’s wrong, then?”
I keep my eyes down and pick at a thread in his stupid Egyptian cotton sheets. So soft and warm and inviting. “I’m afraid of getting hurt. Of getting feelings, I mean. Ones that definitely would not be reciprocated.” I practically choke on the words.
“I would never do anything to hurt you,” Leo says softly. His tone is so genuine, so sincere. I almost trust him.
“I made a promise to myself two years ago. I only want to be with someone safe.” I turn to Leo, savoring the depth of his brown eyes and his perfect smooth jawline. “I like safe.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “No, you don’t, Frankie. You deserve so much more than to play it safe.”
I feel pesky tears stinging in my eyes and a lump rising in my throat. Every part of me wants to melt into his arms. To trust him and believe him and fall for him and hope he maybe falls for me, too. “I can’t afford to take risks with my heart. I want something stable, like what my brother and his wife have. Luke played it safe in college, and now they’re having a baby. I took the risk in college and got screwed by dickhead and a cheerleader.”
“Wait, you slept with the cheerleader, too?” Leo teases, nudging my arm.
I laugh and swallow the urge to cry. “Shut up. Can we just ignore the sexual tension and keep being friends for the rest of the time we’re fake fiancés? There’s so much time left in the season, and I really don’t want it to be weird.”
“Of course.” Leo’s smile is warm and comforting, sending a wave of relief over me. “Ignoring attraction isn’t exactly my forte,” he teases. “But I’ll do my best.” He wraps his arms around me, and I close my eyes, desperately holding on to the precious moment.
“Let’s get some food. I’m starving,” I suggest, my head buzzing from the past hour’s roller coaster of emotions.
“I’m good, I just ate.” Leo throws me an exaggerated wink. “Friend.”
Goddammit.
EIGHTEEN — Leo
Did I really get fucking friend-zoned? Has that happened to me, like, ever? Maybe in seventh grade or something. Nope, no way. I was a total stud in middle school.
I keep replaying the events of yesterday morning in my head over and over again, and it just doesn’t add up. She definitely wanted me. I really wanted her, too. I still do.
I wish the fucking phone didn’t ring. But also, I would have felt like absolute shit if we had banged and she’d said she regretted it afterward.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror and run my hand through my hair. “Stop being a pussy,” I say out loud. “She’s just a cool, hot girl. The world’s full of ’em.” I press my palms into the bathroom counter, trying to believe my own words.
-->
