Chapter Seventeen
Sadie
Nola: Hey Sadie!! Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? I promised my friends I was hanging out with you and they DON’T BELIEVE ME!!
Nola: But I actually DO want to hang out. And so does Leo. He wanted me to invite you.
Sadie: Did he say that?
Nola: Yes. He’s covered in flour or he’d text you himself.
The address Nola sent me is, of course, the same house Leo took me to what feels like a hundred years ago when he put in his bid to buy it. It’s a little off the beaten path and nestled in the woods. Rustic and peaceful.
The only difference aesthetically now that he lives here is a freestanding porch swing and a strand of white Christmas lights woven into the railing. He hasn’t been here long enough to fully make this house his own yet, but he’s starting to.
Anywhere else, a single strand of lights might seem simple, or even lacking when decorating such a big and stoic house, but knowing Leo bought a single box—probably grunted to himself this ought to do it as he tossed it in his shopping cart—then took the time to hang them makes them shine a little brighter.
They glow with quiet warmth, but the effect Leo and his house and his hundred-light strand has on me is far from quiet or warm. Something far more potent zings through my body—something loud and hot and powerful.
As I get closer, I note one other difference from that day we visited: a pair of work boots lined up next to the door, hinting at the man who lives here.
My stomach ties itself into a knot.
I shouldn’t have come here. I knew it in my brain when I got in my car, but I know it in my body now, a sort of bone-deep premonition that spending more time with Leo—in his home, of all places—won’t help me detach from him the way I need to.
But my headlights flooded his front window when I pulled up, alerting them of my arrival. They’re expecting me.
There’s no backing out now.
I’ve lifted my fist to knock when Nola yanks the door open. The beanie, jeans, and Ugg boots on her feet suggest a cold interior, but warmth spills out of the house. “You’re here!”
“I am. I brought—”
“Who’s here?” Leo rumbles from across the house.
Wait a second.
I tilt my head, my gaze flitting past Nola to search the interior. From the doorway, I have a view of a living room with dark red walls, a lively fireplace, and a large archway that opens to a kitchen. “I’m sorry, did Leo just ask who’s here?”
Nola lifts a finger like she’s about to state an important point.
“Right. About that.” She gestures to invite me inside.
When I don’t immediately follow—given the owner of the house clearly isn’t expecting me—she sidesteps me to close the front door, essentially trapping me inside.
She cups her hands around her mouth. “Sadie’s here! ”
I narrow my eyes at the teenage menace. “You said he knew before. Like, when you texted me.”
“Well, he’s not going to be surprised.” She beckons me forward.
With a sigh, I follow her through the living room toward the kitchen. Leo watches me from behind a spacious island, his gaze careful and assessing. He’s wearing a thermal shirt with a waffled texture, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his powerful forearms. The red flatters him especially well. “Hi.”
“Hi. I didn’t mean to crash your dinner.” I grimace. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Nola insists. “He always makes more than we can eat, so there’s plenty to go around.” She smiles innocently, all rosy-cheeked. “You brought something! That’s so nice of you. May I?”
I hold the tiramisu closer to my chest. The smell of coffee and powdered sugar mingles with the savory smells emanating from whatever Leo is preparing. “I did, because you said Leo invited me, so I wanted to contribute.” I evade his eye. “I’m just going to leave this here and—”
“Nola.” Leo’s voice is firm. “Come in here and stir this soup so I can talk to Sadie.”
“Okay, let me just—”
“Now.”
“Will do!” She practically rips the glass dish out of my hand. “Can’t wait to try this.”
I’m left empty-handed and gaping in the entrance to the kitchen.
Leo adjusts a few dials on the gas range, checks the oven, and wipes his hands on a forest green dish towel. The muscles in his tan forearms flex deliciously, though it’d be nice if he’d speed up so I can get out of here faster.
When he’s finished with all that, he steers me across the living room. That’s one way to boot me, I guess—wordlessly, with a hand cupping my elbow.
But instead of taking me outside, he leads me past a staircase and through a doorway.
To his bedroom, I quickly deduce.
“I’m so sorry,” I say as soon as we’re out of earshot. Freeing my phone from my pocket, I turn the screen toward him like I’m presenting evidence in court. “I was texted. And in the text, I was told you wanted me here and knew I was coming. Now I am horrified—”
“Sadie.” He steps closer. “Relax. I do want you here. Very much.” His big hands find my waist, sliding beneath the hem of my sweater like he can’t help but make contact with my skin.
I sigh in relief, sensation trickling across my hips.
“I’m sorry my sister is a meddling troll,” he adds. “Boundaries don’t exist to her.”
“It’s okay. I just hate the feeling of showing up somewhere uninvited.”
“You have an open invitation.” His mouth finds my neck, nuzzling me until I giggle. “God, I’m happy to see you. It feels like it’s been longer than a day.”
“Barely twenty-four hours since our game,” I point out.
“Most of which I spent at a mall holding Nola’s bags.” His hand slips up the center of my back. “This is better.”
A ripple of want spreads down my spine, through my limbs. He feels dangerously like mine when he acts like this. “You can’t touch me in front of your sister.”
“I’m aware.”
“Good.”
“But if you were to have a glass of wine or two, then you’d have to sleep over”—he tugs my earlobe with his teeth—“for safety. Not much could be done about that, eh?”
Oh so tempting. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep in your room. And she’s thirteen, Leo. She’ll know something is up if I stay here at all when rideshares exist.”
“She probably already suspects it.”
“Right, but she’d really know.”
He exhales. “I hate when you make good points.”
“Life must be difficult for you, then, since I exclusively make good points.” I pull back to look at him.
The shadow has already returned to his jaw.
I want to feel that stubble scrape against my skin as he kisses up and down my neck.
And then I want him to toss me on his bed and drape his weight over me—
Focus, Sadie. “You really had no idea your sister texted me?”
“No. But I’m very glad she did, because now I can do this.” He walks us backward toward a wall.
Where we’re standing, no one could see us if they peek through the doorway. They’d have to step in the room.
He kisses me hello, warm and probing. His tongue parts my lips within seconds as our bodies fall flush.
Our hands explore quietly, mine greedily sneaking into his shirt to feel his abs. He takes it as an invitation to trace the curve of my ass.
My hands twine behind his neck to keep him close. Our rapid breathing sounds illicit as we fight to keep the volume down.
“When can we be alone again?” His voice is gravel, his words made more potent by the fact that his bed is right there. He tucks his hands into the back pockets of my jeans, gripping me tight. “One night wasn’t enough. I am haunted by everything we didn’t get to do.”
Heat pools low and fast in my core. “Let’s get through tonight first. You’ll have the house to yourself again tomorrow when she leaves.”
“Tomorrow evening we leave for Philly, remember? And then it’s straight to Denver. That means it’ll be days, unless you want to sneak—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence. We are not sneaking around while we’re travel—”
The sound of the doorbell echoes into the room, ripping us apart.
Leo reaches in his jeans to adjust himself. “Why am I forever cockblocked by doorbells? Who else could possibly be here?”
“I’ll get it!” Nola’s voice comes from far away.
Something tells me I’m not the only unexpected guest tonight.
“Go.” Leo urges me with a gentle hand at my back.
I rush out of the bedroom, cheeks flaming. “Yeah, so…your skates are fine.”
“Cool, thanks for checking,” Leo answers from behind me, considerably more calm. He cuts sideways to answer the door, reaching it the same moment as his sister. He crowds her sideways and tugs the handle.
“Oh.” Leo says grimly. “It’s you.”
“Well, hello to you, too, sunshine.”
The accent gives him away.
Callum steps through the door in jeans and a hoodie, carrying two handles of vodka. Apparently he is expecting a boisterous dinner party. Perhaps inside a frat house.
“Come right in, I guess,” Leo mutters, stepping out of the way.
Callum performs a sweeping look at the living room, lingering on the lit fireplace. “Nice house. Not what I expected.” His eyes go saucer wide when his gaze lands on me. “Coach?”
I would very much like to melt into the wood floor. “Hi, Callum.”
He looks from me to Leo to Nola and back again. “I was just expecting the guys when Nola told me about this. Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, as usual.”
He tucks the vodka behind his back as if I’m going to judge him.
Leo cuts his sister a scathing look. “Nola invited you, too, did she? Did she call it a party?”
“I just said you were having people over,” Nola clarifies. “And that he should join.”
“Anyone else?” Leo asks through gritted teeth.
Nola scratches her temple. “Um, well—”
“Greetings, party people!” Nic jogs through the door, a smidge winded. “Sorry, I forgot my whiskey in the car so I had to run back and get it.”
A third bottle of liquor. I cannot imagine the damage these human tanks do at the club after games.
“We rode together,” Callum explains, misinterpreting Nola’s starry-eyed stare for confusion. “You live in the middle of nowhere, McLaren.”
Leo has taken to poking the fire with a metal rod. “That is by design.”