For some stupid reason, that compels me to speak without daring to look at him. “Y-you can have my share. I won’t be able to finish it all.” Why did I have to say that?
“I’m good.”
My stomach drops at the instant dismissal. His face is completely unreadable. I want to crawl out of my skin and die.
Sabrina bats his arm. “Jesus Christ, stop scaring my friend. You’re being creepy.”
“It’s fine. I’m alright,” I quickly say.
The silence that follows is substantially worse than whatever else could have happened from Sabrina pointing out that he’s being weird.
I keep waiting for the moment he points out that he knows me from somewhere, or that I’m not who I say I am. Or maybe that I’m the crazy author who messaged him, and all his buddies had a go at harassing. But it never comes.
“This is super awkward,” Sabrina grumbles.
I couldn’t agree more.
He’s not talking. I’m most definitely not about to. This whole interaction is ruining everything. How am I going to approach Leo asmenow? How am I supposed to let him see videos with my face in them without fear that he immediately catches on to my lie?
“Wait, oh my God.” Sabrina holds up her hands in dismay, and I brace for impact. “I haven’t filled you in on what happened with that model in Vegas last week.”
My shoulders sag. She launches into her story about her client who she calls Satan’s Spawn without stopping to take a single breath. If there’s one thing Sabrina has, it’s news to share, whether it’s a bad interaction with a client, gossip her clients lether in on, or the dark side of the celebrity industry. I’ve never been so grateful for her ability to carry a conversation.
The entire time Leo doesn’t say a word, while I provide appropriate sounds of disbelief or agreement.
I’m barely listening.
That’s a lie. I’m not listening at all. My entire focus is on the man a foot away from me.
If I move my leg even slightly to the left, I’d knock into him. The knowledge is surreal—no, that’s not right. It doesn’t make me awed; it makes me feel sick to my stomach because I have no idea how to process the onslaught of all my emotions: excitement, fear, betrayal.
I’m choking.
Leo’s eyes flick between me and his sister, staying longer on me whenever I feel them land. I squirm in my seat because I can’t tell whether my mind is playing tricks on me or if there really is something heated in the way he looks over at me.
The ball is going to drop at any moment, and then everything is going to explode around me. I can’t see any of this going well.
He wouldn’t keep eyeing me if he had no idea who I am, right?
“Tell me about yourself.”
I jump, eyes widening on him. Shit, did I zone out staring at him? They’re both looking at me. When did they stop talking?
“I— Uh . . . I . . .”
“For fuck’s sake, don’t interrogate her. Not everyone is crazy like you.” Sabrina rolls her eyes. “Back when we were in high school, Leo learned how to poison my ex and gave him this crazy rash using the chemicals in the school lab because he cheated on me.”
Hewhat?
Leo says nothing, studying my reaction. I’m not sure what he expects me to do except gawk at him.
“And before then, he caught a snake and put it in my bully’s bed. Leo was only eight.”
Excuse me? Leo with the cute, innocent home library and dazzling smile? There’s no denial from him. Nothing.
“They had it coming,” he says coolly.
A normal person would get scared by this. But I am not normal. I’m aroused. And very,veryhopeful that it means I could be forgiven for all the crazy things I’ve done to get closer to him.
