Ripping her wrist out of my hand, she flounces down the hallway. Expecting her to slam the door, I’m surprised when I hear it close quietly, then remember the presence of two children in the home. Even when she’s mad at me, she thinks about them, choosing to quietly stew in private instead of making a loud ruckus. Chuckling, I open the cabinet behind me, pulling out my favorite sleepy time tea.
Iwake completely disoriented at the amount of light in my room. It’s never this light at seven in the morning. I’m almost always awake around sunrise, which means during the summer months, I’m awake at an ungodly early hour.
Shit. I overslept.
I roll over, my feet slipping over the edge of the mattress. Raising my head, I find that I’m across the bed. How the hell did that happen? Wait? Why is it so quiet? There’s no way Oliver is still asleep. I squint at the clock, noting it’s after nine. Holy shit! I can’t remember the last time I slept this late.
Grabbing a shirt, I pull it on as I open my bedroom door. The house is way too quiet for a four-year-old and an infant. “Ella? Ladybug?”
As I stride toward the other side of the house, I see a piece of paper on the kitchen counter. Fuck. Walking over, I grab it with a huff of frustration. I already know what it’ll say without even reading it, but I still take in Ella’s words.
Leo,
Thank you for coming to get us last night. Sleeping comfortably was much appreciated, as was the extra dinner. Power has been restored to the town, and I called an Uber to come get us so it wouldn’t impact your sleep. I removed the car seats from your car.
What happened between us cannot happen again. As nice as it was to revisit the past, I don’t have the luxury of doing that. My priority is parenting Oliver and Violet. You deserve someone who can give their all to you, and I simply can’t do that. You need to forget about me.
- Ella
I laugh as I read her words again. Fat fucking chance. No way in hell am I forgetting about her. This woman is engrained in my soul. She’s tattooed on my heart. No one could ever take her place.
I guess I’ll just have to patiently remind her how wonderful we are together. And since I’m arguably the most patient man in the world, I fully expect her to capitulate before I would ever give up.
Game on, Ella Langley.
ELLA
ONE MONTH LATER
“You think Leo’s stopping by today?” Whitley asks as we unload a box of supplies for the café.
“I don’t know,” I murmur.
“Do you want him to stop by?”
I look at her, contemplating my answer. Whitley is my best friend, and she sometimes knows me better than I know myself. With the smile that spreads on her face, I can tell she’s waiting for the answer she already recognizes. “I honestly don’t know if I want him to, but if he doesn’t, I’ll probably be sad.”
“He’s stopped by every day for the last month, El. You have to at least admire his persistence,” she comments, turning to place bulk orders of plastic utensils on the back counter. She’s not lying. He’s been here every day I work. He walks in with a huge smile, peruses the shelves, nonchalantly asks me a few questions, then leaves. Often he’ll tell me I look beautiful, or bring up a past memory. He’s brought me flowers twice, telling me he saw them, and couldn’t pass them up.
He’s not once asked me out, or brought up the kiss.
Fucking asshole.
“He’s pissing me off,” I snap, suddenly acutely angry at him. “He’s doing this on purpose. He’s out-patiencing me. Who the hell does that? I said we couldn’t talk about the kiss, so he’s just staying in the outside part of my brain. I can’t forget about it because he won’t let me.”
“Pretty smart if you ask me,” Whitley says with a laugh. “He’s abiding by your wishes, but not letting you forget about the kiss. Remind me: how good was the kiss?”
My eyes close as I’m taken back to that night. “The best.”
Whitley snorts as my mind reminisces. I couldn’t sleep. I have tons of nights where I struggle to fall asleep, but I knew exactly what the problem was that night. I was in Leo’s house. How could I sleep, knowing he was mostly naked in his bed? And when he was suddenly there, in the kitchen with me, all shirtless and manly, and I struggled to form coherent sentences. I tried not to look at the various marks along his torso, undoubtedly from shrapnel, but I still thought he looked so insanely phenomenal. I’d hugged him, had my legs wrapped around him, and I knew what was beneath his clothes. Every rippling muscle, that delicious V below his hips, the perfect pecs.
But the kiss … our kisses had always been great. But this kiss was out of this world. Beyond comprehension. It took my breath away. Feeling his lips trail along my skin sent zings of pleasure throughout my body. When the hiss of the kettle broke our kiss, I had a moment of clarity. No matter how good,how right, it felt, anything with Leo wasn’t in the cards.
I’m barely keeping my head above water. I’m working or dealing with the kids. I don’t have time in my schedule, or my mind, to take on potentially dating someone. Even Leo. And what pisses me off is the fact that Leo realized it immediately, and he’s using it against me now. The jackass.
Instead of asking me questions, or texting me nonstop, the asshole is patiently inserting himself into my life by showing up during hours I can’t do anything but work.
“Does he ask you anything revolutionary? Your views on world politics or the state of our country?” Whitley asks.
