Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
Leo lay in his childhood bedroom, staring at the ring he held between his fingers. Light gleamed in the small stone, just like it had when it had been on Amelia’s hand.
Where it belonged.
Dropping the ring on his bedside table, he scowled at the thought. The ring belonged nowhere near Amelia’s finger. She deserved someone who wasn’t known for spreading a sexually transmitted infection to half of his college population. She deserved a man who would treat her like a queen. Someone who was her equal in intelligence and integrity.
That man sure as hell wasn’t Leo.
Dragging his carcass out of the narrow single bed, he stumbled to the bathroom and tried to wash the memory of Amelia off his body for the tenth time since Sunday morning. The ghost of her touch still lingered on his skin, sweet torture to remind him of all he never should have taken.
Downstairs, Marlon was sitting at the round kitchen table sipping from a gigantic mug. The aroma of coffee wafted toward Leo, and he grunted a greeting to his brother and made his way to the coffee maker. Leaning against the old laminate countertops, Leo sipped the drink and remembered mornings in the suite with Amelia, when she’d sip her overly sweet brew and light up his world.
“You look like you’re in bad shape,” Marlon noted.
Leo grunted. “I’m fine.”
“Retreat didn’t go so well?”
“The retreat was fine.”
“Fine,” Marlon repeated.
“Yes.”
“I’m not sure you know what that word means.”
Leo huffed. “It was a disaster, okay? Two people got fired. I dragged Amelia there and lied about her being my fiancée, so I’ll probably be the next one to get chopped. And Amelia isn’t?—”
He stopped himself from saying how he really felt about her. That she wasn’t ever going to talk to him again, especially not after he’d sent her packing like she meant nothing to him.
Marlon studied him. When he spoke, his voice was low. “You shouldn’t have dragged her into this.”
“You think I don’t know that?” The words exploded out of Leo, and he dragged in a deep breath to try to calm himself. He stared at the ceiling for a beat, then let his gaze drop to Marlon’s. “I don’t want to hear this right now. Okay?”
Marlon studied him. He had thick, dark hair and a full beard. His skin was burnished bronze, and he had a permanent scowl etched on his brow. His eyes were hazel, bright amidst all that darkness. “She’s Emory’s sister-in-law, Leo.”
“Marlon, just stop.” Leo gripped his mug so hard his fingers went numb, and he tried to tamp down his temper. “Please, just stop.”
His brother’s chair squeaked on the tiles as he pushed away from the table, and Leo looked up to see Marlon put his cup in the ancient, yellowed dishwasher. Marlon hadn’t changed an inch of this place since he’d bought Leo’s half after their grandparents died, other than clearing out some of their grandparents’ possessions. It had the same old appliances, the same lace curtains, the same peeling paint and gingerbread trim on every eave and window.
It made the back of Leo’s neck itch. They’d had good memories here, the only good memories in a childhood filled with pain. But being back here made him think about all the ways he’d never been enough. He wasn’t enough for his mother to love. Wasn’t enough for his father to show up and step up. He’d been a hellion, nearly too much for his grandparents and brother to handle.
“Meeting the boys at The Shed tonight,” Marlon said as he paused in the kitchen doorway. “You gonna join?”
Leo watched his brother’s back. It was all so normal. Going to a bar with his friends, chatting shit, laughing and joking about all the same things. It made Leo want to scream. Instead, he said, “Yeah. Sure.”
The Shed was quiet, which was no great surprise for a Tuesday night. He took a seat at the bar between Marlon and Cormac, nodding to both of them. Cormac had short brown hair and dark blue eyes. He and Marlon had a business together working in personal security, and, like Marlon, his eyes were always scanning. He’d positioned himself at the end of the bar so his back was to the wall and his gaze could roam the room.
“Heard you had quite the week,” Archer said from Marlon’s other side. His grin was a wide slash across his face. “Read an article about the police being called and a thief being arrested.”
“Our payroll lady had sticky fingers,” Leo said, trying to affect a casual grin. In reality, talking about Cora made him think about Amelia sprinting after her. Amelia figuring it all out. Amelia giving him that bright, blazing smile when he’d gotten up out of the fountain.
Then again, everything reminded him of Amelia. Coffee. Pastries. Cinnamon. Painted toenails. Red underwear. Computers. Sudoku. Had it really only been two and a half days since he’d seen her? It felt like he was gasping for breath without her.
“Marlon said you brought Amelia Darcy and pretended she was your fiancée.” Archer popped a brow. “Emory know about that?”
On his left, Cormac leaned forward. Marlon turned and stared at Leo. Their stares pressed against his skin, demanding an answer.
Leo ignored his friends and motioned to the bartender. As the man walked over, he said, “Can we talk about something else?”
Archer let out a bray of laughter, slapping the wooden bar top. Leo ignored him as he ordered a round for everyone, then scowled at his friend.
Archer threw his hands up. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. But seriously, what were you thinking?”
Leo nodded to the bartender, who dropped a beer on a coaster in front of him. He stared at the golden liquid, feeling like a hot pile of garbage. “I don’t know,” he admitted.
“Have you spoken to her since the end of the retreat?” Cormac asked, his voice deep and resonant. Besides Marlon, Cormac was the one Leo was closest to. Probably because Cormac didn’t feel the need to fill silence with pointless conversation and judgment.
Leo shook his head. “No. It’s better this way.”
“Hold on.” Archer leaned his elbows on the bar and frowned at Leo. “You hooked up with her, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t hook up with her,” he shot back. It had been so much more than that. He wouldn’t lump Amelia in with all his other trysts. She was… She was different . She was special.
Archer frowned at him, his fingers wrapped around his glass as he stared at Leo. “What’s going on? What aren’t you telling us?”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“There never is with you,” Archer grinned. “Did you give her the Leo St. James special?” He made a vulgar gesture.
“Fuck off, Archer.” Leo stood up, his barstool toppling to the ground behind him.
Marlon’s hand appeared on Leo’s chest. His older brother stared at him from under dark, furrowed brows. “I warned you about this,” he said. “I told you to stay away from her.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t. And I know I’m a piece of shit, okay? I know I don’t deserve her. But she’s fucking incredible, and I’m never going to be with her again. I had less than a week with the woman of my dreams, and now I’m supposed to just go back to my life and pretend none of it ever happened. How the fuck do you think I feel about that? About myself?”
Archer blinked, taken aback. “You… You really care about her?”
“Of course I fucking care about her!” Leo gripped the edge of the bar and let out a breath. In an attempt to quash his rioting emotions, he turned around and righted his stool. By the time he faced his friends again, the edge of his anger had worn down to something a little less jagged. He watched a bead of condensation cut a wet path down the side of his glass. “She’s funny and clever and beautiful. She has this little smile that appears when she’s saying something funny, like she can’t quite contain herself from laughing at her own jokes. And she’s smart . She built her own business. She looks at numbers and sees patterns. She did a sudoku in like, five seconds. And she frowns all the damn time. Like everything is a problem she just needs to solve. All week I’d just stare at her face like an idiot, trying to watch the moment her expression would clear. If she figured out a problem, she’d get this tiny little victorious smile for a second, and it made me?—”
Abruptly, Leo stopped talking. The three other men were watching him with varying expressions of shock and confusion.
It was Cormac who spoke. “You love her.”
Leo felt scraped raw. His throat was thick as he swallowed, then he jerked his chin down. “Yeah.”
“Well, fuck,” Archer said, turning forward again to stare at the bar. Marlon just let out a long sigh and scrubbed his face.
“Emory know about this?” Cormac asked.
“Emory is on his honeymoon with the woman of his dreams, who happens to be Amelia’s big sister. No, of course he doesn’t know about this. Amelia doesn’t even know about this.”
Marlon frowned. “You didn’t tell her you cared about her?”
The pressure inside Leo’s body was too much to bear. He gulped down half his beer and wiped his lips on his forearm, then growled in frustration. “I’m not an idiot, Marlon. What’s a guy like me got to offer a woman like her? How am I supposed to even know if what I feel is real? I’ve never cared about a woman like I care about her. What am I supposed to tell her? ‘Hey, I know I’m a total piece of shit who hasn’t had a real relationship since I was nineteen years old, but I want to have one with you. I promise I won’t fuck it up, except I probably will.’” He shoved his hands through his hair. “She has a date with another guy this week, and the thought of it is driving me insane. I want her with me all the time. I want her in my arms. I want her so damn bad, and I can’t have her.”
Silence settled over them after Leo cut himself off, lest he continue ranting all night. His heart thumped hard, and his breaths came heavy and fast. He wanted to scream and rip the room apart, or maybe just lie down and die.
“You should tell her,” Archer said quietly.
Marlon grunted his agreement.
Leo scowled at them both. “How’s a guy like me ever going to be worthy of a woman like her, Archer? Huh? What the hell do I have to offer?”
Archer shrugged. “The only way to be worthy of her is to be worthy of her. You want to be a better person, you just decide that’s who you are, and live accordingly.”
It wasn’t until later that night, when Leo was once again in the single bed of his childhood room, that he really understood what Archer was telling him. In order to be a better man, he had to start acting like it, even if he didn’t believe the change yet.
And he knew exactly how to take the first step.