“You bitch!”
* * *
“I love you. Yes, I do,” Amelia sings in her awful baby voice.
Her arms extend Simba in the air. His tongue wags out in a radiant smile. Simba’s definitely loving all the attention.
“So, you have any news?” Amelia asks, placing him on her lap and facing me.
I shake my head. “You?”
“Nothing much. My life resembles a couch potato right now.”
I snort. “Welcome to the club. I’ve been a couch potato for four years strong.”
I frown when she moves my backside up in the air with a curious expression on her face.
“What the hell are you doing?” I bark out.
“Trying to see if you grew any roots.”
My mouth twitches as I try to keep a straight face.
“I see that smile,” she teases as her blonde hair blows in the wind. “Let it shine, girl.”
Raising my middle finger in the air to her, I reply, “Suck it.”
A deep voice I know very well calls from behind me, “Trinity?”
My body tenses. Butterflies erupt in my stomach when I see his muscular form stop in front of me.
“Trinity, I need to talk to you now.” Not giving me a chance to respond, he walks away toward his house.
Well then …
I wonder what he wants. I noticed that he sounded more pissed off than usual. Good luck to me.
“What is up with him?” I ask Amelia as I follow Leo’s retreating form with my eyes.
“I swear he’s PMSing every day,” she jokes. “But even that’s an insult to women.”
“At least we have a reason to PMS,” I point out.
She slaps my knee. “Exactly!”
Getting up from the grass, I leave Simba with Amelia. “Wish me luck. If you hear a scream, just know I want to be buried with my books.” Spinning around, I start following her brother but not before seeing the confused look on Amelia’s face.
Every step I take closer to his house, the more nerves I feel in my belly. It’s just Leo. Nothing to worry about. Yet whenever I’m around him, I lose all my brain cells and feel things I refuse to. He doesn’t bother to look back and see if I’m even following, which makes me want to turn around and not follow him, just to piss him off. I walk faster, attempting to catch up to him.
As I rush through their front door a few seconds later, my gaze roams around their home. Gorgeous but simple, as always. It has an industrial look to it—metal, exposed brick, gold, silvers. Whoever designed this house deserves a big hug from me. I love it.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I meet him in his bedroom. Oh God. He’s standing in the middle of the room, running a hand through his brown hair. Glancing up once I walk through the doorway, he strides toward where I stand—now shocked in my place, too stunned to speak.
“Leo, what are you doing?” I squeak out when my back hits the wall and his hands cage me in.
He smells so good. Earthy, almost as if he rolled around in rosewood before coming up here.
He grits out, his eyes boring into mine, “Who was that?”
