19. Leo （Now）
Leo (Now)
Leo cursed under his breath, one hand still down Lynne’s pants. They’d both frozen in shock, their rhythm broken clean in half. And he was pretty sure at this point that the universe was conspiring against both of them and their libidos.
Lynne bolted from his lap, nearly face-planting onto the coffee table, still dizzy from their unfinished business. But Leo caught her, already on his feet.
“We’ve gotta get out of here,” he said over the din of the alarms.
“It’s the bar,” she tried to reassure him. “I told you those false alarms have been happening here, too.”
Leo stood there, fists clenched, every nerve in his body lit up and furious as the sound of the alarm shredded through the air.
He’d been seconds away from hearing his name break out of her, something he’d been wanting for years, and now this.
“And if it’s not a false alarm this time?
” he asked. “We’re going. It’s too dangerous. ”
“But the cats. We can’t move that flimsy cat playpen.”
“Grab Fred. I’ll get the rest. Where’s your laundry basket?”
She pointed toward the bedroom, and he disappeared in search of it.
When he came back, he also had a towel lining the bottom of the basket and another towel in his hand.
He started transferring Mama and the kittens from the playpen to the covered basket as two thoughts ran through his mind: They needed a better solution than this, and this was the best they could do in the moment.
Once all the cats were in, he covered the top and sides of the basket with the other blanket.
Someone had once told him this helped keep scared cats calm.
In this case, it kind of secured the laundry basket lid, too.
He just hoped no one got injured. He’d never forgive himself.
Lynne called out for Fred, who peeked his head out from behind the kitchen cupboards. “Come on, bubs. Time to go.”
She lifted him to her chest, and although he protested with meows, he didn’t wriggle out from under her arm. Leo started down the stairs with Lynne and Fred close behind.
Leo’s senses were already on high alert since Lynne had kissed him, but now he was scanning for danger everywhere. Any smell or smoke or new noise. Picking up where they’d left off was the farthest thing from his mind. He just needed to know they were all safe.
They were the first to make it to the alley, followed by Ruby and O’Donnell’s small lunchtime crowd. Mike was among them.
“Over here, guys,” Leo said, waving them away from the building and farther down the alley.
But another realization hit as everyone approached.
He needed to hold onto the basket for dear life.
Because if he dropped his grip, not only would the kittens fall out, but everyone in Autumn Ridge would see his …
situation. He looked down to find a still-raging hard-on, barely hidden behind the laundry basket.
He cleared his throat.
“You okay?” Lynne whispered, sensing his discomfort.
“No, and you can probably guess why not.” His eyes flicked down to his still-stiff crotch and back up at Lynne. An expression of panic flitted across her face.
Then the fire alarm stopped. Of course it did. Leo cursed under his breath again. And when the quiet rushed in, he noticed everyone in the alley was looking at the two of them as if they were aliens.
He suddenly saw what they saw. Lynne was breathless, her hair was mussed, t-shirt twisted, her face flushed with red. Leo’s hair was worse—a tousled mess like he’d just stepped out of bed. He held the basket in front of him like a shield.
Mama yowled and shifted underneath the lid and towel. Fred meowed indignantly under Lynne’s arm. Ruby and Mike both raised an eyebrow and exchanged glances.
“I’m going to fix these goddamn alarms if it kills me,” Leo hissed.
“Forget lunch,” Ruby started with a smirk. “I want some of what these two have been having all morning.”
“Right?” Mike shook his head. “I think we just figured out why the fire alarm went off.”
Shit.
“It’s not what it looks like, guys,” Leo said, trying to maintain his composure.
“Oh, honey,” said Ruby. “I think it’s exactly what it looks like.” She turned to Mike. “Doesn’t it?”
Mike just snickered and folded his arms across his chest. Lynne and Leo’s faces fell flat.
“Now, Mike,” Leo tried to keep his voice level.
“You showed up—unannounced, I might add—so I took Lynne’s guest room until you figure things out.
Plus, this gives me and Fred a chance to make things right and help Lynne care for the kittens.
” As if on cue, Mama growled from the hamper.
“But it’s a full-time job, taking care of them.
We’ve got shared calendars and shift schedules, but we still look and feel like shit.
” Leo couldn’t help but let anger color the edge of his voice.
His brother needed to mind his own business. This wasn’t funny.
Ruby blinked at them. Twice.
Mike replied with a low, “Right.”
This clearly wasn’t helping. And the last thing Leo wanted was for this to snowball into gossip.
But not because the hazing would be more relentless than it already was, but also because, when he glanced over at Lynne, she looked like she wanted to crawl into the laundry basket with the cats.
She turned her face away from him, pulse visible at her throat, and crossed her arms. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes.
She was too damn stressed and tired to deal with this. And, frankly, so was he.
In his head, he cursed the whole damn situation again. She’d wanted him. Not last year. Not five years ago. Now. Here. Upstairs in her apartment. And the universe had a sick sense of humor when it set off that alarm.
“Nothing happened,” Lynne said coldly, finally. “We’re just friends. Now, if you two are done writing the Autumn Ridge gossip column, I have kittens to feed.” She marched back into the building with a reluctant Fred still clutched in her arms, leaving him alone with the kittens and the nosy crowd.
He dreaded going back upstairs now. But he couldn’t stay out here either, or he’d lose his temper.
“Thanks, you two,” Leo said sarcastically to Mike and Ruby. “Nice work.”
He shuffled back upstairs to her apartment and unloaded the litter into their playpen.
He busied himself in the kitchen while he watched Lynne pace the floor, her hand over her mouth, trying to figure out what she wanted to say. It was torture. He just wanted to pull her close and forget any of the last ten minutes had happened.
“Leo, I need you to get Mike out of your place so you can move back soon.”
“I’m getting whiplash, Lynne. You told me to come over here and give my place to Mike.”
“I know, but I didn’t think this through. I can’t—” she shook her head. “I can’t keep doing this.”
He frowned. “Doing what? Taking care of stray cats?”
“No.” She gestured vaguely toward the door, the alley, the bar below. “Don’t you see? Every time something good happens, something blows up right behind it. I didn’t think through what it would mean if we…” Her voice thinned. “If we crossed that line again.”
He clenched his jaw. There was that word again, hovering unsaid between them. Mistake. She didn’t intend it this way, but it sounded like he was the thing she regretted.
“Funny how this thing between us is okay until it’s visible. Isn’t it, Lynne?” Leo felt his throat tighten. He shoved his hands in his pockets then stared at her from across the room until she met his eyes. “Funny how you talk about hurt and grief like you’re the only one who deals with it.”
She exhaled, long and slow. “That’s not what I meant.”
He knew Lynne well enough to recognize the pattern—words scrambling just before she found her footing. But now she seemed stuck there.
“You know, there’s a version of today where we both came back up here and finished what we started.
And I’m not talking about what we started ten minutes ago.
I’m talking about what we started five years ago, on my 21st birthday.
I want that. I want to be with you. I thought we were a team now—” His voice cracked.
“Where’s the version of you that’s willing to be with me, 100 percent, outside the bedroom?
Am I ever going to meet her? Does she exist? ”
She was quick—too quick—in her reply. “I can’t hide from you, Leo.
That’s the problem. You don’t ask for the easy version of me—the version everyone else is satisfied with.
You ask for the real one. I know this sounds backwards, but if we just went back to being friends, I wouldn’t have to risk ruining this.
Ruining us. It would be safe again. The stakes would be lower. ”
“Lynne,” he interrupted, “we can’t go back to being friends. Not after today. It’s going to break me if we go backwards now.”
She grasped the pendant at her chest and twirled it in her hand.
“Well, it’s going to break me if we can’t.
Nothing in my life feels stable anymore, Leo.
Every time I let myself want something, it feels like the timing is wrong and something else blows apart.
I don’t get to choose what explodes next. ”
He said it firmer this time. “Lynne, I cannot be your friend anymore. If there’s never going to be an us, just tell me now.”
She was on the verge of tears. “That’s not fair.
” She whispered it to herself again, as if in disbelief.
“You’re my safe place, Leo. I can’t lose that.
You’re the only one who’s truly seen my flaws.
Not my wall of sarcasm and wit. The messy, broken, completely out of control version of me that people walk away from.
But not you. You haven’t walked away yet.
Why? That terrifies me. I don’t want to feel responsible for bringing you down with me. ”
Leo felt the walls closing in on him. He wanted to scream “Fuck!” He wanted to punch a wall. He couldn’t argue Lynne out of her feelings. He knew better. It was like trying to spar with a ghost.
“Fine,” he told her. But they both knew it wasn’t. He just wanted this sick feeling in his gut to go away. “I’ll talk to Mike.”
He walked over to Fred and scratched between his ears then headed for the door.
“Leo?” she called after him. He turned, one hand clasped on the handle. “I didn’t mean you had to ask Mike at this exact moment.”
As if he could stay. “I need to get out of here before I say something I can’t take back.” The old Leo would’ve kept arguing or trying to convince her. But now he knew that pushing her would only prove her right about him.
Leo closed the door, leaving a stunned expression on Lynne’s face.