by Ellie Wade
“Bye.” I wave, and Leo comes toward me.
He cradles my face and presses his lips against mine.
“Hey, beautiful,” he says in greeting as he kisses me. “How was your day?” He takes a step back.
“Good. Long. Yours?” I ask.
“Long,” he responds. “Are you hungry? There’s some pizza left.”
“No, I’m good.” I set my backpack down on the dining room chair.
Leo steps around me and locks the front door before turning off some of the living room lights. “Let’s go relax. If you want to turn on the TV up in my room, we can do that too. First, I have to grab my sheets from the dryer.”
“You wash your own sheets?” My question is accusing. “I figured you had a housekeeper.”
Leo playfully pinches my side. “I do actually have a housekeeper. Yes, she normally washes my sheets, but I’m capable as well. I’m not an idiot.”
“I didn’t say you were.” I smile. “I’m pleasantly surprised. Fun fact: I’m kind of a neat freak,” I tell him as he reaches his arms into the dryer and pulls out a wad of white linens.
“Oh yeah?” He heads toward his bedroom, and I follow.
“Yeah, my parents are slobs, like straight-up hoarders. Growing up, I was the one who kept the house clean, and it kind of became a bit of an obsession. As I’ve mentioned, my childhood was a little rocky. Keeping a clean house gave me something that I could control. It calmed the turmoil around me.”
Leo laughs. “You and I certainly have very different coping mechanisms.”
He throws the bottom sheet on the bed, and I walk around to the other side to help him tuck it under. “So, tell me the story of Ethan. You said he’s your best friend. How did you meet?”
“You have to swear not to make fun of me or throw out any rich-boy jokes,” he says seriously.
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Well, Ethan is the son of our former housekeeper. His mom cooked and cleaned for my parents. She was on staff full-time. So, when he wasn’t in school, she would bring Ethan along. We just hit it off. He’s a really good guy and the only person who has never tried to take advantage of me or exploit me in some way because of my family. He’s like a brother to me.”
“I’m glad you have someone like that in your life. Everyone needs one person they can rely on. So, you’re closer to him than you are to your brother?” I tuck the top sheet under the bottom corner of the mattress.
“God, yes. I hate my real brother.”
“That’s sad.”
Leo scoffs, “Not really.”
Bed made, he walks around it until he’s in front of me. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. I love it when he does that. It’s such a little gesture, but it makes me feel like what I’m doing here with Leo is real, and I so desperately want our relationship to be real.
“Take a bath with me?”
“What?” My question comes out squeaky.
“Please?”
I press my lips together. “I’m not sure. It feels so intimate. I don’t know if we’re there yet.”
“Please. It will feel so good. I’ll close my eyes if it makes you feel better. I won’t look.” His grin is mischievous and so sexy.
“Yeah, right. Okay, fine.”
“Yes?”
“With bubbles,” I demand.
“Bubbles. You got it.” He nods in agreement.
I follow him into the bathroom. There’s a grand claw-foot tub to the side. Leo’s a tall guy, and I bet even he has extra leg room in this thing. It’s gigantic. He turns on the water, running his hand underneath the faucet to test for warmth. Steam starts to billow out from the tub, and he drops some lavender bath salts and an iridescent soap from a glass container into the water.
“Bubbles.” He holds up the container of shimmery liquid.
“Perfect,” I say.
He plays music on low volume through the Bluetooth speakers. Then, grabbing a lighter from the bathroom drawer, he lights some candles and turns off the bright lights.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” My insecurity leaves my mouth before I know it, and I immediately regret my question.
He sets the lighter down and stands before me. “No, I haven’t. I’ve had sex before you but never anything romantic or sweet. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to go slow with. You might not have all my firsts, Alma, but you’ll have a lot. You’ll have the ones that matter.”
He places his finger beneath my chin and tilts my face toward his. “Are you okay?”
I smile weakly. “Yeah.”
His kiss is sweet and soft.
Pulling his mouth away from mine, he grabs the hem of my shirt and tugs it up over my head. He peppers kisses across my shoulder as he removes each bra strap. He pecks across my collarbone as he unhooks my bra in the back and lets it fall to the floor. Kneeling before me, he unbuttons my jeans and kisses along my hips as he pushes the jeans down.
He slides his finger under the elastic band of my panties, causing goose bumps to break out across my skin. “Should I close my eyes?” He tilts his face up to gauge my reaction.
I simply shake my head, causing him to smile. He pulls down my panties. They fall at my feet, and I step out of them. His stare remains on me. He studies my face as I react to his movements. He runs a finger along my opening, and I pull in a sharp inhale. With a sly smile, he pushes a finger into me, and I hiss in pleasure.
“So wet,” he growls as he pushes a second finger inside me.
I grab on to his shoulders as his fingers work in and out. Without releasing my stare, he leans closer, extending his tongue until it’s flicking the perfect spot, mirroring the actions of his fingers below. Watching him pleasure me this way magnifies the intensity of his movements, and before I know it’s coming, an orgasm hits me, hard and strong. Leo holds me up with his free hand as my body shakes, and I cry out.
Leo removes his fingers from my opening and puts them into his mouth, sucking. I open my mouth in a gasp.
He chuckles. “Perfect.”
He rises from his knees and makes quick work of removing his clothes. When he’s standing naked before me, I take in his body from his face to his feet. He’s everything, an Adonis. I splay my hands across his chest and run them down his abs, feeling the chiseled lines of his muscles.
“Do you approve?” He grins knowingly.
I bite my bottom lip and nod.
“Come on,” Leo says, humor lining his voice.
He grabs my hand and leads me toward the tub. The bubbles are floating on top of the water. Leo leans over and turns off the running faucet. We step in and sink into the hot water. I lean back against Leo’s chest, and he runs his soapy hand up and down my arms and shoulders. He makes me feel so cherished.
“Tell me one of your dreams,” he says into my ear before kissing my shoulder.
“I want to be a mom. I want to have at least three kids, maybe more. The idea of raising a beautiful, kind family with my soul mate has been my dream since I was young. I want my kids to know that I love them and that I wanted them. I need them to know that they’re valued and special and perfect, just the way they are,” I say, running my palms against Leo’s knees at my sides.
“So, you want to be the mother that you didn’t have,” Leo observes.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I admit.
“That’s a good dream.” He kisses my hair.
“Do you want kids?”
“No.” His answer is immediate, and it crushes my heart.
“Really?” I ask again, hoping that his response will somehow be different.
“I wouldn’t be a good dad. I’m too fucked up. I wouldn’t do that to a child. It wouldn’t be fair. Plus, I don’t see myself here long.”
I sit up and spin around to face him, and water splashes over the side of the tub. “What does that mean?”
“I can’t see a future. You can imagine yourself getting married and having a family, right? I�
��m sure you can see yourself growing old with your husband and rocking on the porch swing, right?”
I nod because I can envision all of that. I can’t see the details or the faces, but I can see the life I’ll have someday.
“When I think about my future, all I see is blackness.”
“Just because you can’t visualize it doesn’t mean it’s not going to happen, and you can change your mind about kids. Most twenty-one-year-old guys aren’t ready for kids, but it doesn’t mean you’ll never be. If you don’t think you’re good enough to be a dad, then change,” I argue, almost furious.
I want to cry; I’m so mad. How can he just write off his future in such a cavalier manner? How has he already given up on happiness and a family? What am I even doing here? I feel myself falling for him, and for what? Heartbreak? Because that’s where it’s heading.
“I have to go.” I start to stand, and Leo grabs my arms.
“Wait, no,” he says desperately. “Don’t go.”
“What are we doing here?” I demand, sitting back down in the water so the bubbles cover my body.
“I don’t know,” Leo responds. “What do you want me to say?”
I open my mouth to yell, but then I close it and gather my thoughts. “I understand that people date and break up all the time in college. I’m not delusional enough to think that the first guy I date will be the one. But with each boyfriend, there has to be the chance that he could be it; otherwise, what is the point of going out in the first place? I’m not looking for a hook-up. I don’t need you to take my virginity and then dump me. If you’re telling me right now that you’re a hundred percent sure that there is no future for us, then I’m out.”
“What do you want from me, Alma? You’re the first girl I’ve dated—ever. We’ve been together for two fucking days. You want a marriage proposal now? I can’t give that to you. I’m trying to be open and honest with you, and you’re giving me shit? You’re insane,” he spits out.
“Ugh,” I groan, standing from the tub and stepping out. I grab a towel from the shelf and wrap it around me. “Clearly, I am insane for thinking that anything between us could work.” I snatch my clothes off of the floor and storm out of the bathroom.
Leo gets out of the tub. “Just wait,” he barks out.
He follows me into his room, a towel wrapped around his waist. Water drips from his chest. “Let me get this straight. You’re mad because we’ve been dating for two days, and I can’t tell you that I’ll marry you someday?”
“No! I’m mad because you’re telling me that there’s no future for you or us. I don’t need a definite, but I need a possibility. What’s the point of being together if there’s no chance we’ll work? Why go through all of these emotions and share these experiences that I’ll never get to have for the first time again if there’s no future? I’m not going to risk falling in love with you if there isn’t a chance. That’s not fair to me!”
Leo runs his fingers through his wet hair. “I’m new to this too. Not only am I new to relationships, but caring about someone is also a new experience. Cut me some slack, Alma. Damn it, I’m trying.”
I see the torment in his eyes, and I want to hold him. I know he’s trying.
Pulling the towel tighter around my chest, I sit on the end of his bed. “I’m scared,” I tell him. “I’m so scared, Leo.” My voice trembles.
He sits beside me. “Of what?”
“Of you. We’ve had this connection for a couple of months now. Yes, the relationship part is new, but the attraction isn’t. When I’m with you, I feel so good. You make me feel so good. I’m afraid of losing that feeling, of losing you. Losing you now would be heartbreaking. Losing you a year from now would be devastating. I don’t know how I’d recover from that,” I say with a sigh.
“Alma, I don’t know what a year from now will look like, but I’m trying. For you, I’m trying. That’s all I can do. That has to be enough.”
“I know.” I lean my head against his arm.
“I can’t promise you forever, but I can promise you today. I’ll cherish every part of you today, and tomorrow, I’ll keep trying to be better … for you.” He sets his open hand palm up on my leg. “Is that enough for you?”
I place my hand atop his and thread my fingers through his. “Yeah, it is.”
In this moment, I realize that I’m already in too deep. It’s a very real possibility that Leo can’t give me tomorrow, but I need him enough to settle for today.
TWENTY
Alma
“We’re not original at all. You know that, right? We’re going to be those cliché sexy kittens at the Halloween frat party. There will probably be another twenty girls dressed just like us,” I say to Quinn, her face deep in concentration as she draws whiskers on my face with black eyeliner.
“You’ll be the hottest,” Leo comments from my bed, where he’s sprawled out, looking at his phone.
“Yes, we will!” Quinn cheers in agreement. “Listen to your boyfriend. He knows. There might be other kittens at the party, but none of them will be as gorgeous as us. Plus, you can’t beat a two-dollar costume.”
Quinn found us black kitten-ear headbands and fishnet stockings at the local dollar store. Paired with two of her skimpy black dresses and some dark makeup and whiskers, we are pretty sexy.
“It’s not too late for you, you know,” Quinn says to Leo. “We could make you a pirate or a rock star. Oh! You could wear a white button-down shirt and underwear and be Tom Cruise from Risky Business!”
“Yeah, I’ll pass,” he deadpans. “Halloween isn’t my thing.”
“Have you ever seen Risky Business?” I ask Quinn.
“No, I’m not a fan of old movies. Movies that came out before we were born are all grainy and stuff. But … that scene where he slides across the floor in just a shirt is classic. People would know what that costume was. Stay still,” she commands while circling the eyeliner around the tip of my nose.
“Are you almost done?” Leo asks.
“Shh,” Quinn warns him. “You can’t rush perfection.”
“Clearly, but if you want to make it before Halloween is over, we should get going,” Leo states.
“Leo Harding, you will wait.” Quinn glowers toward Leo, and I can’t hide my smirk.
Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve been making an effort to hang out here with Leo sometimes. I would’ve hated it if Quinn had been the one to start dating someone and left me alone all of the time.
The time spent here in our tiny little dorm room has been good for me too. Sometimes, it’s hard to put things in perspective over at Leo’s semi-mansion. College relationships aren’t meant to have that much room or privacy—along with a king-size bed and bubble baths in a claw-foot tub.
It got too deep, too fast. One minute, I was kissing a boy for the first time, and the next, I was yelling at him because he couldn’t promise me that he’d marry me. It wasn’t fair to Leo or myself.
After our fight the night of the bubble bath, I realized that I had to make a change. As much as I crave alone time with Leo and love playing house with him, I’m eighteen. This entire life—college, roommate, parties, job, boyfriend—is an adjustment. I almost sabotaged it before it even really started.
A knock sounds on the door. Quinn and I exchange expectant looks. Everyone we know should already be at the party. Quinn opens the door, and there stands Amos in a fighter pilot jumper and aviator sunglasses.
“Oh my gosh!” I stand from the crate I was sitting on and rush over to Amos. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going to a party in Ann Arbor.” I throw my arms around him, hugging him tight. I haven’t seen him since we went home for his mother’s birthday.
“I was, but I missed you.” He kisses the top of my head, and I release my hug, taking a step back.
“We were just talking about Tom Cruise!” Quinn says gleefully.
“What?” Amos seems confused.
“Tom Cruise. Top Gun. That’s who you are,
right?” she asks.
“Oh.” Amos looks down at his costume, as if he forgot he was dressed up. “I was just going for a fighter pilot. But, sure … we can say Top Gun.”
Quinn claps. “Oh, good. I love that movie.”
“I thought you didn’t watch ’80s movies?” I eye her in question.
She rolls her eyes. “Everyone’s seen Top Gun, Alma.”
“Hey, I’m Leo. Nice to officially meet you.”
I stiffen when Leo’s voice sounds from behind me. I start to panic. For a second, I forgot that he was here.
“Yeah, you’ve heard all about the new boyfriend, right?” Quinn says with a grin.
“Oh, you’re dating Quinn?” Amos says, extending his hand to shake Leo’s.
Leo drops his hand before Amos can shake it and grabs my waist, marking his territory. “No, Alma,” he growls.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
I was planning on telling Amos about dating Leo, but it just didn’t come up. I wanted to explain everything to Amos when I saw him in person. This is not how I saw it going. Ugh.
“So, we should probably get going. My makeup is done, right?” I ask Quinn.
“Yeah.” She clears her throat. “You’re good.”
Leo stands behind me, unmoving. His muscles are tense as fury simmers beneath his skin. I understand why he’s upset, but I wasn’t hiding him from Amos. I just didn’t get around to telling him yet. I’ll explain that to Leo later. For now, we should get going. The awkwardness in this room is suffocating.
“We should go!” I snatch my small purse off of my bed and step into the hallway, extending my hand toward Leo.
He takes it with a scowl.
Quinn locks our door, and she and Amos follow behind Leo and me. Tilting my head back, I shoot Amos a nervous smile. Quinn—bless her heart—is regaling him with some random story. That girl can talk—a skill that is easing my nerves at the moment.
Once inside the frat house, Leo drops my hand and walks ahead of me, disappearing into the crowd of costumes.
