He Belongs With Me

by Sarah Darlington

“I'm kind of glad some crazy girl hit me. I wouldn't be with her now if she hadn't.”

  Steph returned right then to drop off our drinks. Thankful for the distraction, I picked up my beer and took a much-needed gulp. Across from me, Leo did the same. Steph watched us carefully and then walked away.

  When Leo took a break from being a jackass, he could be rather sincere and even charming. And his honesty, though harsh at times, was something I found I craved. Maybe I'd always known these things about him, but I was seeing them—and him—very differently tonight.

  Then a very stunning and terrifying realization hit me like a punch to the gut. Somewhere between yesterday and today, I'd developed feelings for Leo Maddox. I couldn't see it earlier, but I couldn’t deny it now.

  Feelings and Leo were two words that should never be used in the same sentence.

  But as I sat there in a random bar in Brooklyn, a couple hundred miles away from home and reality, watching him take a long sip of his beer, I had the overwhelming urge to kiss him—and I despised him for it. This couldn't be happening to me. Leo was annoying and rude and the source of many tears growing up. What a cruel twist of fate that I suddenly found myself wanting him?

  He noticed the change in me instantly. “What is it? Clara? Are you okay?”

  Every square inch of my skin started to buzz with a mixture of fear, hatred, and maybe something that felt a little like desire. The background noise faded and suddenly we were the only two people in the room. “Why did you come here tonight?” I demanded. “We're not friends. You hate me.”

  He set down his beer, staring at the little bubbles that floated peacefully to the liquid's surface, and took his time answering. “If I hated you, I wouldn't be here now.”

  “So why are you?”

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  I rested my elbows on the table and leaned closer toward him. “You used that line on me last night. It won't work for you a second time. Tell me, Leo, right now. Why are you here?”

  His blue eyes lifted to meet mine, shining with a buttload of something resembling anger or possibly even fear. Whatever emotion, it wasn't one I'd ever seen on Leo before and it scared the hell out of me. “Why do you think I'm here? Why do you think I invited you to New York? Why do you think I almost got into a fight with Andrew ‘Fuckhead’ Wellington last night? Why do you think I still spend every summer in Blue Creek? Maggie isn't the only thing keeping me there. Why do you think I was walking in the direction of your house last night?” He ran his fingers roughly through his hair. “No. You know what? I won't answer your question, but I will ask you one of my own. Why did it take you seeing me naked this morning for you to finally start noticing me?”

  Talk about stunned into silence. I couldn't move a muscle or blink or say anything in response. I'd always heard of people saying how they forgot how to breathe in certain situations, but I'd never believed it possible. Well, I'm scientific proof that it is possible. My chest began to burn and my throat caught fire as some very vital organs stopped functioning.

  My whole life, I'd always had a certain image of Leo Maddox built up in my mind, but maybe I'd been wrong to assume I knew him so well. Dad's favorite saying came to mind: Don't assume. It makes an ass out of you and me. When I saw Leo naked this morning, maybe one of my assumptions about him crumbled away. Then when he invited me to New York, I think I might have felt another slip away. And right now, having heard him confess that he cared about something other than himself—me—I was left with one ground-shaking idea. What else would I discover if I started peeling away at his layers? And the thought just plain pissed me the hell off. How dare he make me start questioning everything? How dare he make me feel something I shouldn't for him?

  I found my voice and my breath. “I saw you naked this morning and so-freaking-what if I happened to like what I saw, okay? Are you trying to say you like me?”

  “Yes,” he said in a tone so serious it made me want to duck under the table.

  “No...No! NO! You can't. Not now. Not after all these years of being so mean to me. It's not fair. If that's how you feel, then why are you such a jackass?”

  I waited for my childhood nemesis’s usual spiteful response, but it never came. Instead, he simply finished the conversation by saying, “You're right. I've been mean to you for far too fucking long. It ends tonight.” Then very carefully, very calmly, he slid his beer and mine to the other side of the table. I watched him with guarded eyes, my heart jack-hammering against my ribs.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded.

  He stood, ignoring my question, and started moving toward me.

  “Don't you dare.”

  Still he came.

  “Leo.” I tried one last time, but my voice came out in a terrified whisper.

  With the confidence of a rock god, he came to me. He grabbed one of my now trembling hands, and in a single swift motion, pulled me up and into his arms. I let him do it too. I let him because I knew what was coming and I had no willpower to stop it. Then, Leo tangled his hands in my hair in a way so tender and out of character that if my eyes weren’t open, I wouldn’t have believed it was him. He drew me close, almost like he'd been waiting his whole life to do so and he whispered against my ear, “I like you.” His words were hot as sin against my skin. “I more than like you. As hard as I try, I can't seem to stop and I sure as hell don't want to try anymore.”

  A strange whimper escaped my lungs. “You do?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  One of his hands moved from my hair to my face. The pad of his thumb traced slowly over my jaw line to my chin, and then to my bottom lip. He touched me as if he were trying to memorize the feel of me. I stared up into his eyes, petrified to the core, but I didn't dare pull away. Maybe a small part of my brain protested, but the rest of me did nothing to end this.

  “Clara,” he whispered before his mouth came down against mine and he kissed me.

  I wanted to hate him. I wanted to push him away. But all I managed to do was relinquish all control to him. Trapped against him, I was utterly powerless. Utterly consumed. His lips were surprisingly soft and warm as they savored mine. The sweet smell of him filled my nostrils and tonight, for the first time, I let myself breathe the intoxicating scent deep into my lungs—talk about exhilarating. And then as I was still trying to comprehend the gravity of what was happening, his lips parted mine and he deepened the kiss. His tongue slipped inside my mouth and gently glided against the tip of mine. The sensation sent a shiver straight to my toes.

  Holy hell, Leo!

  I'd been kissed before—lousily, greedily, and even just right—but something about Leo's kiss trumped the rest. His tongue caressed mine, demanding I join him, and I wasn't immune. I couldn’t help but give into him. Nor could I help myself from standing on tiptoes, reaching up, and wrapping my hands around his neck. His skin burned hot against my fingers. Through the material of his shirt, I could feel the muscles of his shoulders, tense and smooth, and I wished that we were alone so my hands could be free to explore the rest of his chest. There was just something so sensual, so romantic, and so dangerous about touching him. I knew losing control with Leo was wrong, but somehow it felt so right. Like rainbows, unicorns, and sunshine...all mixed up just for me.

  “You're amazing,” Leo gasped against my mouth. “You have no idea how bad I want you.” He didn't need to say the words; I already knew he wanted me. The substantial hardness pressed into my abdomen gave me all the proof I needed. I normally would have felt awkward and embarrassed feeling a guy’s arousal against me, but not with Leo. With Leo I liked it—loved it even. It let me know he was right there with me, feeling all the same things I was feeling, wanting everything I wanted. I couldn't always trust the shit that came flying out of Leo's mouth, but I could trust the emotion I felt radiating off him.

  Trapped in the moment, we continued touching, kissing, and getting to know each other in a whole new kind of way. Who knows how much time passed like this, but
I never wanted it to end. This throbbing, annoying, liquid-ache had formed between my thighs and turned my legs to jelly. The gravity of everything happening compounded with the desire growing inside me, and I very nearly slipped to the floor.

  “I've got you,” Leo whispered.

  As if he planned it from the moment he pushed those beers aside, Leo's hands moved to the small of my waist and lifted me up onto the table's edge. He parted my legs and filled the space he created. I wanted him as close as possible and I locked my legs around his waist to show him exactly where I needed him to stay. Instead of despising the mean boy I grew up with, I couldn't get enough of him.

  Way before coming close to having my fill, Leo stole his lips from mine and took one giant step backward out of my grasp. We both stared across the space at one another, neither of us speaking. Sizzling heat still pumped throughout my veins, driving me insane. It made me desperate to have his hands back on my skin. Leo didn't move, but he wasn't unaffected either. My reaction reflected in the way his chest rapidly rose and fell, in the glow of his now cherry-red cheeks, and in the greedy way his eyes still ate me alive.

  “Ahem.” I recognized Steph's voice behind me, though it sounded as if it was coming from a distance. “Thanks for the show, guys. I'm officially depressed, jealous, and missing my ex-boyfriend now.”

  I looked away from Leo and the moment shattered. The heart attack-inducing fear of what just happened settled in, and my body began to tremble. I turned my attention toward Steph, who stood frozen in place, smiling at me like a moron. I swallowed hard, trying desperately to communicate telepathically with her. Help me!

  My eyes didn't dare glance back in Leo's direction. The problem wasn't that I was regretting what had just happened—the opposite actually. I'd never been kissed like that before, and even though the person doing the kissing was Leo, I was pretty damn delirious about it. And that's what had me shaking in my new ballet flats.

  Like the good friend that she was, Steph got my message. She rushed up to me, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me away in the opposite direction. “We'll be right back, Leo,” she yelled over her shoulder. Then she dragged me after her across the bar and into the one-stall bathroom.

  I let out a loud whimper the moment the door closed. “What the hell?”

  “Just calm down, Clara. Let it marinate for a minute.”

  I bent over my knees, trying to catch a good breath, and did just that. I let it all marinate. Flashes of my childhood replayed. Leo as a boy, skinny and vicious—like a snake with blue eyes. He'd never been physically aggressive, but he'd used his words to torture me. And he was still doing it. Last night, the way he called me out in front of everyone. And right now, torturing me in a whole new kind of way. You're so amazing. You have no idea how bad I want you. His words rang through my head, making me shiver all over again.

  He wanted me. And a big part of me wanted him right back. But could this be real? I like you. I more than like you. As hard as I try, I can't seem to stop and I sure as hell don't want to try anymore. Wow! Holy—stop the presses—wow! But his confession almost made sense. His cruelty had always been randomly directed at me and this kind of explained it.

  Kind of.

  I stood back up, a rush of blood going straight to my brain. Dizzy now, I realized what was bothering me more than anything. “I just don't know which Leo is real,” I whined at Steph. “The kid who tormented me growing up, or the man who just kissed me out in the bar. I don't know what to do.”

  “Well, I know which Clara is real. The Clara who befriended a very shy, very closed-off wallflower—that's me, I'm the wallflower—freshman year. I think I was scared of my own shadow back then. But not you. You did whatever you wanted and never apologized for it. You dragged me to parties. You pushed me to make friends and chase after my ex. That relationship was a failure, but my point is...you taught me how to take risks. And I love you for it. So, do whatever you have to do. Just remember, life's no fun without the risks. I'm proof of that.”

  I groaned, pacing in circles. “Risk or no risk, the Leo I grew up with was always such an asshole to me! Us together would be a disaster. I'll probably end up in jail for murder if this were to happen. Whatever this is!” I tugged at my hair, entering full-blown panic attack mode. “Seriously! I don't want to like him. I think I might, but I don't want to!”

  “Maybe you don't know him as well as you think,” Steph offered. “Just breathe, okay? It's not like you're considering marrying the guy. I mean...maybe you could just spend a little time together. See if there is even potential there. This isn't life or death, it was only a kiss.”

  A calm suddenly settled over me. “You're right.”

  “I am?”

  “It was only a kiss, but maybe I'm getting so worked up because that kiss has me wanting more.” I took a deep breath. “I know exactly what I have to do now.”

  “You do?” she asked, sighing with relief. “Good. It was freaking me out seeing you so unsure.”

  I chuckled, digging into my pocket and pulling out a few twenty-dollar bills that I'd stashed there earlier. I pressed the money into Steph's hand. “Here. This is for our drinks and to pay off my tab at the bar with Mr. Tattoo-Sleeves. I want you to keep the change because I feel really awful about the mess you're going to have to clean up.”

  “What mess?”

  “And one more thing,” I said, on a roll now. “I'm going to need the key to your place.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Um, sure. You can use my room.” She pulled her keys from her apron pocket and handed them over. “I get off at two. I know you said Leo's butt was otherworldly and all, but I'd rather not see it. Could you please try to wrap it up by the time I get home?”

  I laughed. “Don't worry, there will be no more ass-gazing today. Now follow me. You're probably gonna want to see this.”

  With her key now in my pocket, I left the safety of the tiny bathroom and stepped back into the bar. Steph had brought me to my senses. Sure, most of the time I lived life without regrets and took my fair share of risks, but I also didn't put up with anybody's shit. Especially Leo Maddox's shit. If he truly cared for me, if his feelings went back further than the last twenty-four hours, then it was going to take way more than one hot make-out session to win me over.

  I found Leo waiting for me at the same table he'd practically screwed me on. He stood when he saw me coming, but I made a beeline straight for my beer. It still sat on the table, full and untouched, right where Leo had pushed it aside. I grabbed it and took a big swig.

  “Are you okay?” he asked warily.

  I allowed myself a couple more swallows before pulling the beer away from my lips. Very unladylike, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and let out a big gasp of air.

  “Clara?” His eyes searched my face, screaming with unexpected vulnerability and fear. He seemed genuinely worried about me. “What's going on? Say something, please. Are you okay?”

  I nearly lost my nerve. How easy would it have been to kiss him and fall into his arms all over again? A big piece of me wanted to do just that, but one moment of weakness was all I was going to allow myself for the day. “Am I okay?” I asked him, trying to sound indifferent and not angry. “What's that annoying code word you and Maggie used to say all the time? The two of you probably thought I was too dumb to crack that little language you created to use against me. Oh yeah, I remember now. Peaches. I'm just totally peaches.”

  Standing tall, I reached my arm above his head and slowly poured the remaining contents of my beer on top of him. A shocked breath left his lips but he didn't budge, taking the beer shower like a man. “Real mature, Clara,” he grunted, glaring a shitload of hate-fire my way as the liquid coated his hair, face, and clothes. Angry as hell and soaking wet was a good look on him.

  “That's for making me care,” I told him, setting my empty glass back down on the table. Then my hand swung hard and made stinging contact with his wet face. “That's for being a jerk to me since we were kids. And
this...” I stood up on my tiptoes, grabbed hold of his handsome, shocked face, and planted one firm kiss on his wet lips. “That's so you know I'm not fucking around.” I held onto him for another moment. “Prove it to me,” I whispered. “Prove to me you aren't an ass and I'm all yours.”

  Then I pulled away, turned on my heel, and left Leo standing there, soaking wet and stunned.

  CHAPTER 9

  MAGGIE

  I woke Sunday morning to the sound of Dad swearing. I abandoned my warm, cozy bed and crept down the stairs. Only one thing could make the laid-back Reed Ryder swear like that—Clara. Was she finally home?

  I found Dad hovering over the answering machine, listening to a message from Clara. The lavender hair color didn’t surprise me or the impromptu trip to see her friend, but—

  “She left that message yesterday,” Dad said, interrupting my thoughts. “I missed it because nobody calls the house phone anymore. But can you believe that girl?” I got the impression Dad had already listened to Clara's message a couple dozen times. “What am I supposed to do with her? Threaten to cut off her tuition again? Ground her for the summer? She's twenty-one, for crying out loud! When will she grow up?”

  I took a step backward, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire, but more importantly, I needed to be alone to process this new information. “I'm going to go call Leo and get his side of the story. If he tells me anything new, I'll let you know.” Then I turned on my feet, rushed back up the stairs, and ducked into my room.

  Burying myself under the safety of my covers, I dialed Leo for about the millionth time. Clara's message said she'd run him over. What if he was injured and alone in some hospital? Please pick up. Please pick up. Oh God, I hoped he was okay. But then at the same time...part of me selfishly wished he wasn't. I would never wish bodily harm on anyone—especially Leo—but maybe a tiny, itty-bitty part of me hoped for some logical explanation as to why Leo and Clara both mysteriously disappeared at the same time.

  “Hello, Miss Maggie?” Regina answered. I hated Leo’s secretary. Sure I played polite and Leo knew nothing of my discontent, but something about Regina just rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it was the fact that she was hopelessly in love with Leo.