Chapter 8
EIGHT
On Tuesday evening, Amelia pushed away from her computer and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes. She’d finished her work, but she’d barely left her desk all day. Her body was sore and creaky, and she spent a few minutes stretching out the kinks that had knotted her muscles over the past two days. She’d missed a family dinner at her parents’ place to see Maggie and Emory off on their honeymoon and had to beg off hanging out with Camilla and Lucy this morning. She knew she wouldn’t make it to bootcamp tomorrow morning, either.
This was the downside of being an ambitious small business owner: there was no one else to pick up the slack. She had to rely on herself to get the job done; otherwise, she wouldn’t get paid.
Sighing, she bent over at the waist to stretch her hamstrings, only coming up when her buzzer rang. Walking across the room, Amelia frowned when she looked into the small, grainy screen that showed her a view of the front door. Leo stood on the stoop, leaning against the wall with one hand.
She stared at him for a beat, then pressed the button to speak. “Yeah?”
“It’s me,” he said, like it was completely normal for him to show up at her building. He lifted a white plastic bag. “I brought Chinese for dinner.”
At some point over the last twenty-four hours, Amelia must have slipped through a crack and fallen into an alternate universe. What was happening? “How do you know where I live?”
His lips curled, and he looked so attractive Amelia wobbled on her feet. “I have my ways.”
“It was Camilla, wasn’t it?”
He laughed. “Let me in, Amelia. I brought food.”
“You can’t just bribe me with food to get your way, Leo,” she grumbled, but she buzzed him up and flicked the lock on the door. Then there were a few panicked seconds where she gathered a dirty pair of socks and three mugs out of the living room, then scanned the space to make sure she hadn’t forgotten a bra on the lampshade or a thong on the sofa cushions.
Then the door opened. He didn’t even knock.
“You should lock your door,” he said.
She planted her hands on her hips. “I unlocked it for you, you doorknob.”
He grinned his beautiful, heart-stopping grin and crossed the space to deposit his offering of Chinese food onto the kitchen table.
Amelia watched him, unsure about how it felt to have him in her space. He moved with a powerful sort of grace, and he took up a lot of room. He cast an eye around her apartment, and she suddenly felt exposed. She had pictures of Lucy and Camilla, her sister, and her parents displayed all around the apartment. The kitchen was tidy except for the three dirty mugs she’d just placed in the sink. The door to the office was open, and she could see the mess on her desk from across the room.
“You hungry?” Leo asked.
She suddenly realized she was starving. “Yes.”
That seemed to please him. He started hunting through the cupboards until he came out with two plates, then went searching for utensils, as comfortable in her space as if he lived here.
She couldn’t decide if she loved that thought or hated it, but she was drawn to the kitchen table by the scent of steaming food in Styrofoam containers. They ate in silence until their plates were cleared and Leo leaned back in his chair.
Amelia narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you really doing here?”
His gaze roamed over her face, and he lifted a shoulder. “Thought we should talk about tomorrow, and maybe attack another module of your syllabus. We only have a few days to find the love of your life, after all.”
“Hmm,” Amelia answered noncommittally. Then she nodded to her phone, which was on the arm of the sofa in the other room. “I got the schedule for the retreat you sent. It seems intense.”
“There are a lot of activities,” he agreed. “It’s a multi-day party that Fred throws for the top employees and their partners. It happens every year, and getting invited is a huge honor. It’s the one party a year that we don’t have to plan.”
“So, if they find out we’re not actually engaged, it’ll be a big deal.”
“Very.”
Amelia nodded. “Okay.” She watched Leo for a moment, then asked, “Why did you lie about having a fiancée?”
A sigh slipped through his lips as his gaze drifted from hers. He played with the edge of a Styrofoam container for a moment and finally shrugged. “Fred cares a lot about family. His company caters to all these A-list celebrities and wealthy people, and we plan all kinds of crazy events for them. But at its core, our team is pretty small. The business is built entirely on relationships and reputation. He’s built a name for Goodhew to the point that the waitlist to have a party organized by us is years long. When he says that the company is like family, it’s not just corporate bullshit. He really means it.”
“And you didn’t think being Mr. Pestilence would jive with that.”
A bitter laugh. “No. I didn’t.” He combed a hand through his hair and lifted his gaze to Amelia’s. “This job is important to me. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it weren’t.”
Amelia held his gaze, then nodded. She could respect that. Leo sometimes put on his charming smile and dazzled people into thinking he was a carefree guy, but Amelia had seen glimpses of something deeper. She’d seen it in his desperation in the parking lot, when he tried to convince her to pretend with him, and in the way he comforted her before they started the bridal procession down the aisle.
Their conversation at The Shed had shown her just how easily he slid on a mask for the benefit of others. To him, bedroom eyes weren’t a result of arousal; they were a means to an end.
It made her want to see the real Leo. In spite of his reputation, the fact that he could probably get any girl he chose, and his painful good looks, Amelia wondered if Leo felt as lonely as she did.
“Okay,” she finally replied. “I get it. I won’t mess this up for you.”
He blew out a breath. “Thanks.”
They spent a few minutes going over a backstory, which turned into talk about Leo’s work. Leo ended up telling her about a party he threw on a private island in the South Pacific, where they had to fly everyone in on helicopters and planned to get them out via boat, and then realized they hadn’t brought enough fuel, and some drunk partygoer had thrown the satellite phone in the pool and ruined it. He had her clutching her stomach with laughter as he explained the harrowing journey across the water in his tiny metal boat to get to the nearest island where he could contact the right people to get fuel to the island—all before the guests realized anything was wrong.
They’d moved to the sofa, and Amelia had one leg curled under the other, her elbow resting on the back of the couch as she listened. She huffed and shook her head. “I would have panicked. Everyone would have known there was a problem.”
“Your poker face needs work,” he conceded. “When I walked into the church on Saturday, you looked like you were ready to kill me.”
“That’s because I was.”
His warm chuckle wrapped around her, teasing her own lips into a smile. Then he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small ring box. “Here.”
She caught the box and flipped it open, brows arching. “Wow.” A glittering princess-cut diamond stared back at her from its bed of black velvet, the delicate white-gold band carved in a filigree pattern. It looked vintage and cool and very expensive, even though the stone didn’t look particularly large. It was beautiful. “Where did you get this?”
Leo shifted in his seat, then shrugged. “Rented it from a jeweler. I have to give it back next week.”
“A jeweler let you rent a ring like this?” She lifted it out of the box and watched the light play through the stone. “I didn’t even know you could rent jewelry.”
“We go way back,” Leo explained. “Try it on.”
She put the ring on. It was a little bit loose but still felt secure behind her knuckle. Her throat was suddenly tight. “It’s beautiful.”
“Good,” Leo said. “Your turn. Why do you think you need help finding a boyfriend? From where I’m sitting, all I see is an attractive, successful woman.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I guess I just get weird around guys. I start overthinking what I’m saying. I stumble over my words. Sometimes, they ask me about work and I go off on tangents about dashboard software and I only stop when they keel over, dead of a boredom-induced heart attack.”
And then there was sex. She knew she was bad at it, so anytime a guy touched her, she’d freeze up with nerves and awkwardness. Was she making too much noise? Moving awkwardly? Did her boobs look weird in that position? Had she forgotten to pluck those stray hairs that grew around her nipples? Was it going to hurt? And then oh, yes, it did hurt! Should she ask to stop? Would her partner be mad?
It was exhausting. She didn’t know how people actually enjoyed being intimate when there was so much to worry about.
Leo’s face softened slightly, his green eyes reading something in her face that she wasn’t sure she wanted him to know. “Tell me about dashboard software,” he said, voice velvety and low. “I promise not to keel over.”
She clicked her tongue. “Stop it.”
“I mean it. I don’t even know what dashboard software is. Tell me.”
“Well,” Amelia answered slowly. “All data analysis really starts with a problem, or multiple problems. So the creation of a dashboard is just a way to present solutions—or information—relating to that problem. I think a lot of people who are good with numbers get too bogged down in them, and they forget that the layperson needs information available at a glance. So with dashboards, we can—” She frowned as Leo shifted on the sofa, leaning his head back as he stretched his long legs out. He folded his arms over his stomach. His eyes were lazy as they held hers. Amelia huffed. “See? I’m boring you.”
“I’m not bored. I’m just getting comfortable.”
“This is the problem. I start talking, and I don’t know when to stop.”
Leo reached over and grabbed her hand. He tugged it, threading his fingers through hers. “A guy worthy of you will love listening to you,” he said, “even if you’re talking about dashboards, or numbers, or the best textile to use for socks.”
“Bamboo, obviously.”
He laughed. Green eyes glimmered as they met Amelia’s, and he didn’t let go of her hand. “What’s the next topic in your color-coded rubric?”
She tugged at her hand, but he held it fast. “I’d have to check.”
“Bullshit. You remember every cell of that spreadsheet.”
It took all of Amelia’s willpower to hide the smile that wanted to burst through. She bit her lip. “Clothes and makeup,” she finally admitted.
“Your clothes are perfect. Your makeup is great. Next item.”
Sitting up, Amelia clicked her tongue and glared at him. “That is not an adequate response! How is that supposed to help me?”
Leo gave her a heavy-lidded look, brow arching the tiniest bit. “Am I the expert or not? Your clothes are hot. Your face is beautiful. You looked great with makeup on at the wedding and you look great now.”
He’d called her beautiful again. Not knowing how to respond, she frowned harder.
His voice was soft and low when he continued, “You shouldn’t change them just for a guy. Take my advice or leave it, sweet cakes.”
“Okay, no. You’re not calling me sweet cakes.”
He still hadn’t let go of her hand. “What’s the next item on your list? We’re burning through them. This is easy.” Another grin.
Oh, he thought he was funny, did he? Amelia hummed to keep her frustration at bay. “Next is kissing.”
Leo froze beside her. His hand turned to granite around hers. Then, as though he were speaking through gravel, he asked, “Kissing?”
“I’ve been told I’m a bad kisser. It’s an area requiring improvement, so I’d like to learn how to be better.”
Another pause stretched, and Amelia turned to meet Leo’s gaze. His jaw was hard, and his eyes were focused on her lips. “Kissing,” he repeated.
“Yes. Kissing. Have you heard of it?”
“Who told you you were bad at it?” His eyes remained on Amelia’s lips, and heat began to swirl in her lower belly.
She shrugged, finally succeeding in pulling her hand away from his. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I think it does.”
She stared at the wall, face heating. “No, it doesn’t. Someone said it to me, and I have reason to believe they’re telling the truth. So, assuming you’ve kissed thousands of women and have built up the skills to be good at it, you’re the perfect person to give me tips.”
“Tips.”
A huff fell from Amelia’s lips, and she turned to stare at him. “Are you just going to repeat everything I say?”
“I don’t think giving you a few pointers will help you learn how to be a better kisser.”
“No? Well, I guess you’ve outlived your usefulness. I won’t have to go to your retreat, after all. So your presence here is no longer welcome.” She popped a brow and crossed her arms. “Feel free to leave.”
The look Leo gave her was nothing short of predatory. He sat up on the couch and turned to face her, one hand on his knee, the other on the back cushion. “First of all, I don’t believe that you’re a bad kisser. Someone put all these ridiculous ideas in your head, and once I find out who it is, I’ll deal with him separately.”
A shiver traveled through Amelia at those words, starting behind her belly button and spreading outward. She sat very still, caught in Leo’s gaze as it darkened with every word.
“Secondly,” he continued, “if you’re going to get better at kissing, the last thing you need is a bunch of tips .” He spat the last word.
Amelia couldn’t move. “No?” It came out as a croak.
“No. You need practice.”
Amelia’s bravado was quickly failing. Her heartbeat hammered in her chest as she fought to keep her face still. Sitting next to Leo when he stared at her like that was like being in a cage with a lion. One wrong move and he’d tire of toying with her, and that’d be the end of Amelia. Danger filled the air until she was afraid to twitch. But she tried to process what he’d said to her.
His words finally penetrated. She exhaled, disappointment piercing her chest. “You want me to find guys to practice kissing on?”
Leo blinked, and a muscle jumped in his cheek. “No, Amelia,” he replied darkly. “That’s not what I want.”
The lion was padding over and back across the cage, its eyes steady on hers. They sat like that, unmoving, for long, silent moments. Amelia tried to think of something to say, but she knew anything that came out of her mouth would be the wrong thing.
Then Leo rumbled, “Come here.”
“I don’t think?—”
She squeaked as Leo’s hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her across his lap. He plopped her down so she was draped across his thighs, her back resting against the arm of the sofa. His hand slid from her waist to her leg, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When his palm touched the bare skin below her athletic shorts, Amelia inhaled sharply. He left his hand on her flank, his thumb pressing into the top of her thigh to hold her in place.
“We’re going to practice right now,” he informed her.
“Oh.” That soft sound was all she could manage, because Amelia couldn’t think of anything except the warmth of his palm against her skin and the coiled power in his body.
With his free hand, Leo cupped her jaw. His thumb stroked her cheek as he studied her face, his gaze flicking between her eyes before dropping to her lips. “Okay?”
Was this taking their little game too far? Was kissing Leo a bad idea? Was it everything Amelia had wanted since the moment Leo had pushed the church’s doors open?
Those were questions for Future Amelia. Right now, she just dipped her chin. “Okay.”
She thought he’d crush his lips against hers and kiss her in an explosion of passion. She closed her eyes and braced herself, only to feel the softest brush of his mouth against hers. Surprised, she let her lips fall open, and Leo took advantage. He kissed her lower lip then nibbled her upper one. He pulled away and kissed a line down her jaw, then moved back to her mouth.
All the while, the thumb on her thigh stroked softly, over and back, a soothing metronome marking the beat of the moment.
When his tongue swept between her parted lips, she met it with her own. A delicious melting feeling happened behind her navel, and Amelia found herself clinging to his shirt to pull him closer. He made a noise, low in his throat, that made Amelia pull away.
“Was that okay?” She frowned. Had she been too aggressive? Josh used to hate when she did that.
But Leo wasn’t turned off. His voice was a low growl when he said, “Fuck yes, it was okay.” He tangled his fingers into her hair and angled her head back so he could drop kisses down her neck, following the line of her thudding pulse. A whimper escaped her lips, and Leo responded by tightening his hold on her hair.
It felt so good. For the first time in her life, Amelia was in the arms of a man and her mind was blissfully blank. She tangled her own fingers into his golden-brown locks and pulled him back up to her mouth. Instead of being repelled by her assertiveness, Leo responded by kissing her harder and longer than he had before. He groaned into her mouth and set liquid heat tumbling through her veins.
“You can kiss,” he told her, lips against hers. “I knew you’d taste amazing.”
She nipped his bottom lip and tugged him closer. That seemed to drive him wild, because he gripped her jaw and redoubled his efforts. This was more than a kiss. It blasted Amelia into the stratosphere. Lust burned her from the inside out.
The hand he’d kept on her thigh moved to her breast. He shaped and fondled her curves, making noises that stoked Amelia’s flames ever higher. A gentle tweak of her nipple over her clothes had her gasping, and Leo’s lips shaped into a smile against hers.
She’d never been kissed like this before. This was a full-body experience. She’d never felt as attractive, as free. Leo touched her like she was beautiful. He made her feel like he appreciated her —the real her—like she was special and desirable and sexy. Her hips began to make small circles, moving of their own accord?—
Amelia pulled away, suddenly stiff. What was she doing ? She couldn’t do this with Leo! He was supposed to help her get a boyfriend—someone who wasn’t him! This was a simple business exchange.
It was all well and good for the player of the century to kiss her; he wouldn’t get attached. But Amelia had never been kissed like that. She’d misinterpret everything—hell, she was already feeling like Leo cared about her. He didn’t care! He was just here to get her to play along with his stupid fake fiancée scheme. And after one kiss, Amelia felt like she’d found The One.
Pathetic.
“Hey.” His hand cupped her chin and tilted her face so he could study her. “You okay?”
She nodded and forced herself to smile. “Yes. That was great, thanks. I see what you mean about practice.”
Amelia made to move off his lap, but Leo circled his arms around her waist. He held her in place. “Wait. What just happened?”
“Nothing. That was great. Thank you for the demonstration. I see that I’m not as bad as I thought.” She peeled his hands off her waist and stood, brushing the front of her shirt down with a few rough movements. “Cool. Well, I should get to bed, and you should go home. We have a big day tomorrow.”
She could feel his eyes on her, but Amelia forced herself to walk to the front door. Her legs were unsteady, and she bumped into an armchair on the way. When she got to the door, she held it open and finally met his gaze.
Leo’s face was utterly blank as he watched her for a beat, then dipped his chin. In a toneless voice he said, “I’ll pick you up at three p.m.”
The door closed behind him, and Amelia made sure to throw the deadbolt. It slammed home with a loud thunk in the empty apartment, and Amelia let out a shaky breath. The ring felt heavy on her finger, and she pulled it off with shaking hands. She studied the glittering stone and regretted every decision that had brought her to this moment.
Then she took a long, cold shower.