A flush spread over his face and down his neck, making me want to see just how far it went. “I’m far from perfect, Mia. Of all people, you’d know that.”
I ventured one step forward. “I don’t know. You seem pretty damn close to perfection to me.”
We were both quiet for a few seconds, with only the soft hum of the fire filling the air between us. Everything that we hadn’t said to each other, and everything that we had said, hung there, rooting me to the floor.
“Do you want something to drink?” Leo broke the spell, moving until he stood a few feet away from me, hands on his hips. His eyes were almost wary, as though I were a panther he feared might pounce at any time.
I glanced at the wide oak coffee table, where his wine glass sat. “I wouldn’t say no to a glass of whatever you’re having. Is that Pinot?”
Leo smiled ruefully. “Yeah, it is. I’ll get a glass.” He turned and disappeared into the kitchen. I trailed behind, lingering in the doorway, watching him.
“Hey, listen, don’t let it get around that you found me sitting alone with a book and a glass of red wine, okay?” He grinned at me over his shoulder, winking.
“Not the image a big, tough football player wants to project?” I leaned on the arched wall.
“Not quite.” He pulled off the glass stopper and tipped the bottle over a wide goblet.
“Let’s see. I guess most fans expect you to be chugging back the beers, watching ESPN twenty-four/seven, with a couple of hot chicks all over you?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I think you’re on target.” Sliding the bottle of wine back into its spot in the wine cabinet, he approached me, holding out the glass. “Let’s go sit down.”
I followed him toward the sofa but sank into a chair across the coffee table. I had an odd sense that if I chose to sit on the couch with him, it might make him ... uncomfortable.
Leo sat down, too, and lifted his own glass. “To ...” He hesitated, casting his eyes toward the ceiling. “To friends.”
My heart stuttered a little.Couldn’t he see I wanted so much more than that?But I forced a smile and raised my goblet as well. “To friends,” I echoed.
He sipped and then leaned back and propped his feet on the table. “If you want to know a sad truth, I really haven’t wanted beer much since, uh, since Matt.” He didn’t look at me, instead keeping his eyes on the crackling fire. “I guess for me, I still associate it with him. Like, I’m almost being disloyal if I sit around and drink some brews.” He ran a finger down the stem of his glass. “I miss him. A lot.”
“Yeah. I know.” I spoke softly. “Matt and I didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye on just about anything. Well, let’s be honest. He pretty much hated me. But we had our moments.” I let my mind wander back over some of those happier times. Matt hadn’t cared much for me before Leo and I had started dating in high school, and once we did, and Leo slowed down his partying, Matt really got hostile. But we’d reached an uneasy truce at one point.
“Remember ... remember the night you guys won the championship in junior year?” My words shook a little.
“God, as if I could ever forget.” Leo’s voice was raw. “Never, as long as I live.”
We were both quiet, afraid to speak. That night, I’d conspired with both Gia and Matt—who barely knew each other back then—to whisk Leo away from the celebration, off to a hotel room, where we’d celebrated our own way. It had been the first time we’d had sex, and I could still recall every detail with agonizing clarity.
I cleared my throat. “Matt and I got along for a while after that. I’d realized that he was just afraid I was going to take you away from him. He loved you, Leo. You were his brother, in the truest sense of the word.”
“Yeah,” he rasped. “If I’d been a better one, he might not be dead now.”
“No one made that decision but Matt himself. You can’t keep blaming yourself for it. If Matt were here and healthy, he’d be the first one to tell you that.” Leaning forward, I carefully set my wine glass on the coffee table, aware that Leo was tracking my every move.
“Do you have any regrets at all, Mia?” He spoke low, and it took a moment before his question sunk into my brain.
“Of course I do.” That wasn’t even a question. “I wish ... sometimes I wish that I’d never left you in Carolina that summer. I wish I’d had the courage to stick it out and see what happened next with us. I was scared and I was overwhelmed, but maybe if I had stayed ...” I lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know. It might not have changed anything. We might have hit the same bumps later on.”
“If you hadn’t ... if we hadn’t broken up then, if we’d still been together, Nate never would’ve asked you to marry him. You wouldn’t have felt like you had to say yes to him. We might have been married now, living here together.” There was just the faintest accusation in his tone.
“I guess maybe that’s true. But Nate would’ve died much differently. His last months wouldn’t have been as happy as they were. So would I go back and do things differently, knowing what I do now?” I shook my head. “I can’t say that for sure. I only know what was, and what is. I can’t say what might have been, and I sure as hell can’t say what will be. The future’s so murky now. It’s dark. Sometimes I feel like it’ll never be bright again.”
Leo’s brows knit together, but before he could say anything else, I went on speaking, blurting out the words that had been sitting heavy on me for the last day.
“My mother is having an affair with the dry cleaner. Or maybe not an affair, but a relationship. And she’s selling our house, and they’re going to travel.”
“Um, what?” He shook his head. “Your mother? And the dry cleaner—wait, is that Shane?”
“Apparently.” I crossed my arms over my chest, sinking back into the chair.
