“Hey, why don’t we—” she began as he set the dish down and turned to her.
“Listen, what if—”
They both laughed softly, and then Leo spoke.
“It would probably be easier if we weren’t…” He lifted a hand and let it fall.
“Constantly at each other’s throats?”
“In any sense of the word.” It was almost a joke.
“Yeah.” She rubbed her hands over her thighs and offered the best olive branch she could think of. “So maybe not friends but friends-adjacent?”
His lips twitched into an almost smile. “Sure. Friends-adjacent.”
How pathetic to feel such relief, but she did. She’d hated hating him.
“We need to set up a call with William,” he said, apparently ready to move on to the business side of their strange new relationship. “See if you think he’d be a good fit for BUILD.” He paused, then added gruffly, “I do value your input, you know.”
It was good to hear. “Sure. Let’s get it scheduled.”
With a nod, he turned toward the window, and Faith laughed.
“You can use the front door, you know.”
He had one hand on the window frame and twisted to look back at her.
“Why start now?”
But the only thing that moved were his eyes drifting to her mouth, and she knew that all she had to do was stand up and press her lips against his, and he’d tumble her onto the bed and have her halfway to happy town in no time. And as tempting as that was, it would also open up a world of complications that neither of them needed right now. So she stayed perched on the bed, and Leo quirked one last tiny smile at her before he disappeared through her window, leaving her alone with a hollow ache in her stomach because goddamn, he’d looked good in those sweatpants.
THIRTEEN YEARS AGO
The first time Leo met Faith’s parents was at the height of the summer before their senior year, which was unfortunate. His lifeguard job at the Beaucoeur public pool had left him tan as hell on top of his already brown skin, and he knew—he justknew—how much the WASPy couple were gritting their teeth as they shook his hand. When Faith’s father had asked where he was from, he was pretty sure he didn’t mean which side of town.
“See? That wasn’t so bad.” Faith grinned at him as she settled cross-legged onto her fussy pink bed.
He peeled his T-shirt away from his sweaty chest. “That was the most stressful five minutes of my life.”
She tossed her head back with a shout of laughter that her parents could probably hear from downstairs, particularly since Faith’s bedroom door was open. Even if her mother hadn’t called a reminder at Faith as they’d climbed the stairs hand in hand, Leo would’ve insisted. He wanted Mr. and Mrs. Fox to like him, not wonder what he was doing to their only child under their roof.
Not that he’d hesitate to do anything Faith wanted. But he’d at least wait until her folks weren’t home.
Even after months of dating, he was still a little overwhelmed to actually be here in the place where Faith ate and slept and studied. If she never invited him back in, he wanted to remember how it felt to be inside her inner sanctum. Unable to contain his curiosity, he ran his finger along the spines of the books in her bookcase. Hardbacks, all of them, their book jackets making a colorful pattern on her shelves.
“If it’s so stressful, just sneak around the back and crawl through my window next time.” She pointed, and he crossed the room to check it out.
“I bet I could.” It looked possible to go from ground to sill to ledge to roof and then directly to the heaven of his girlfriend’s arms without having to talk to her terrifying parents even once.
She beamed at him. “It’s a plan. Now stop being weird. Come sit.” When she patted the mattress, he walked across the plush cream carpet to perch gingerly on the edge, making sure to keep one foot on the floor, just like his mom always insisted Jessie do when she was hanging out with her girlfriend in her bedroom.
“So this is where the magic happens.” He tilted his head back to look at the gauzy fabric draped above her bed.
She just laughed as she kicked off her sandals. “Where the mess happens, you mean.”
She fell backward onto the bed while he took in the jumble of lipstick and hair ties and necklaces on her dresser, yesterday’s flowery sundress draped over the arm of her desk chair, the framed photo on her bedside table of a much-younger Faith and Thea both dressed as Padmé Amidala for Halloween.
“Beautiful mess.” He longed to stretch out next to her. “I see who’ll be in charge of keeping our cabin clean.”
