Chapter 22 – Leo
TWENTY-TWO
LEO
When I wake the next morning, Willa is curled into my side, and every muscle is relaxed as I take a deep breath, basking in this moment I’ve barely even let myself daydream about.
If I were being rational, I would do the opposite.
I would probably be concerned. Actually, I would be full-out panicking.
The repercussions of Willa and me being together go far and wide, affecting both our careers if this turns into a worst-case scenario.
She’s supposed to start dating someone in less than two months, a relationship I set up, and I’m strictly forbidden from hooking up with clients.
My boss is looking for any excuse to get rid of and blacklist me, and if he found out about this, it would play directly into his hands.
But then, Willa murmurs a sleepy, “Morning,” into my neck, and whatever remaining nerves melt away.
Because this. This is what I was always meant to have: Willa in my arms, her voice sleepy, her body slack from sleep and from being fucked the night before.
And most importantly, mine.
And because of that realization, I decide not to care about the shoulds or woulds.
I don’t care about the repercussions because, deep in my gut, I know we can overcome anything.
The road before us is rocky, and I have no idea what the next year will look like, but the only thing I know for sure is that at the end of this, Willa is going to be mine.
“Morning, honey,” I say, and she sighs, then burrows deeper into my chest.
“Love that,” she says, something I feel more than hear, though I still catch her sleepy voice.
My hand lifts, brushing her hair back so I can see her soft face better.
“Love what?”
“You’re calling me that. Honey.”
I smile, instantly bringing it higher up on my list for Willa. She lets out a small yawn before continuing. “Everyone else says it in a bad way. Like I’m dumb or simply childish. You say it like you think I’m sweet.”
“You are.” We lie like that for a bit longer, and I watch her peaceful face, watch her shift in and out of sleep as I gently move my hand through her hair.
After what could be two minutes or twenty, her eyes drift open, her warm brown eyes lock on me, and that sweetness she’s talking about moves through me, slow and sticky, like warm honey.
I think in that moment, I fall in love with Willa Marie Stone. Or, at least, I stop denying I’ve always been in love with her.
“How do you feel?” I ask, biting back a confession of my undying love, knowing it’s far too soon and neither of us is ready for that much honesty. We barely just got past the fact that we’re both into one another, and that this inevitability is something that’s been brewing between us for years.
She smiles.
“I found out that you haven’t hated me all this time, and that you did, in fact, recognize me out of my glam all those years ago; you just needed to set a boundary. My dream man fucked me all night after years of wanting him. I feel pretty fucking good.”
“Your dream man, huh?” I ask, smiling, and she gives me an eyeroll and a deadpan look. I have to fight back a laugh, instinctively knowing she would not appreciate it right now.
“Leo, I met you in a coffee shop, and by the time I left, I was daydreaming about white picket fences and wedding bells. You’re hot, you’re smart, and you're funny in a dry way that I find incredibly entertaining. You understand the complexities of my life and my career. You know how to work with your hands, in more than one way, I’ve learned, and I’ve never met anyone more determined to take care of me than you are. Yeah, I’d say you’re my dream man.”
Her words catch me off guard, both for their honesty and for the words themselves.
I stare at her for long moments, taking in her early morning beauty and wondering how the fuck we finally managed to make it here.
Her eyes roam my face, as well, trying to read me, and a small furrow forms between her brows as she does.
I use my thumb to smooth it over before drifting my fingers down her cheek and dipping to press a soft kiss to the top of her head.
“I fucked up,” I say, looking down at her. Her eyes go wide, and I see it, those big brown eyes that only a select few get to see, the golden flecks shining in the early morning light.
“You did?”
I nod, continuing to take her in, and shake my head with a heavy sigh.
“I did this all wrong,” I say. Nerves take over her face, and I shift, moving her to her back beneath me and hovering over her, my forearms supporting me on either side of her face, caging her in.
Then I dip a bit, pressing my lips to hers softly.
She melts beneath me, a soft hand coming up to cup my cheek, the five o’clock shadow scratching at her palm, I’m sure.
“You deserve it all. The perfect first date before I take you to bed. If I did this right, I would have wined and dined you properly.”
Her nerves visibly melt away with my words, and a sated smile slides onto her face.
Willa deserves the whole nine, the big, well-planned date, a huge bouquet of flowers when I meet her at the door, a fancy dinner, an activity, and then a sweet kiss at the door.
“Well, you definitely dined,” she says, and I let out a laugh, press my lips to hers again, then shake my head.
“Mmm, I did,” I mumble against her neck, smiling when a shiver moves through her before I pull my head back.
“I just wish I had given you everything you deserve.” She opens her mouth, probably to argue, to convince me she doesn’t need what I want her to have, to say something along those lines, but I speak before she can.
“Tomorrow night.” Ideas are already pinging around in my mind.
“Tomorrow?”
“You and I, we’re going out. A proper date.”
“Really?” I smile, loving that look on her face, and I nod. Her white teeth sink into her full lower lip. “I don’t think I’ve actually ever done that.”
“Gone on a date?” I ask teasingly. “I know for a fact that’s not true.”
I regret the words instantly when an embarrassed blush burns on her cheeks.
“I mean like, a proper date. A normal date.” I smile softly at her.
“Well, then I’m honored I get to be the first one to give that to you.”
“You’re giving me a lot of firsts lately, Leo.”
“I don’t plan to stop anytime soon.” Her face changes, almost unconsciously, and I hesitate. “What?”
“What exactly…” She licks her lips. “What is this now?” I roll us again until I’m on my back, her body lying on top of mine, chest to chest, and slowly, I stroke her back, soft and gentle.
“This is me and you finally doing what we were supposed to eight years ago.”
“By fucking?” she asks, her voice frail, trying to hide her nervousness with a joke. I don’t let her have that; instead shaking my head.
“By you becoming mine and me becoming yours.”
“So what are you, then? My boyfriend?”
“I don’t care what you call me, so long as when I try to take care of you, you don’t argue, and when you start to get under my skin, I get to throw you over my shoulder and take you to bed until you see my way.
So long as you sleep in my shirt every night, and I give you all of the firsts you want.
” As promised, she took my shirt off after the first round and wore it while I made us a quick dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, then took her back to bed and continued making up for lost time.
“I’m whatever you want to call me, honey, so long as, at the end of the day, you call me yours.”
My hand slips up that same shirt, skimming over soft skin and feeling her stomach hollow as she sucks in a breath.
Yeah, lots of benefits to Willa sleeping in my bed.
“But when you come, I want you to call me Leo,” I murmur, cupping her breast, a thumb brushing over her nipple.
“Leo,” she whispers, voice breathy and needy.
“Yeah, just like that,” I groan, pressing my hips into hers and running my tongue over her neck.
An hour later, Willa’s getting ready for the day and apparently responding to a dozen texts from girls.
Apparently, yesterday Hallie noticed Willa’s car hadn’t come back last night and grew worried.
That is, until she sent Jesse over to my place, and he reported that her car was still there.
It seems that the nosy woman has put two and two together and is trying to get the full details from her.
She explained it with a deep blush, but the smile on her lips told me that, while she was a bit embarrassed to be called out, she is enjoying this new form of friendship.
While she does that, I go into the kitchen to make us breakfast, starting with the coffee, then move to the pantry.
There’s nothing in there, since I haven’t gone to the grocery store in a bit—too busy with Willa and getting work done in the small pockets of time I steal while I’m not working on the house.
I’ve been doing a lot of takeout and cereal, but I used the last of the latter yesterday, and with last night’s activities, I didn’t make it to the store after Willa left, as I had planned.
With a sigh, I move to the fridge, hoping there’s something in there, but find it mostly empty, other than the milk and half-and-half that I bought last week on a whim, knowing Willa likes it in her coffee.
It seems I’ve been a goner longer than I was willing to admit.
But a light shines when I open the freezer, and I grab a familiar blue box with a smile before placing two pastries into the toaster.
I’m plating our five-star luxury breakfast when she steps out in one of my tees, the hem tucked into the now-dry shorts she wore yesterday.
Her hair is in a mess on top of her head, and there’s a nervous look on her face, but she’s never looked more beautiful to me.
“I borrowed your toothbrush,” she murmurs, breaking the silence and stepping further into the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind.”