It’s exactly where I need to be right now.
I’ve escaped the apartment while Leo is at his meetings, hobbling on my crutches like a man fleeing a crime scene. Which, emotionally speaking, I suppose I am.
Because last night, things with Leo started to feel slightly…dangerous.
I could handle things when Leo was just a guy I was engaged in a prank war with, but last night, things went deeper.
Leo Brennan told me about his family. He opened up about his brother’s addiction, his sister, the weight he’s been carrying since he was a kid. And all I’d wanted to do was hug him.
I knew I found the guy hot, but I didn’t realize my feelings had progressed from “nice to look at” to “genuinely care about his emotional well-being” territory. There’s a significant difference between wanting to see someone naked and wanting to make their life better.
I appear to have stumbled into both.
The timing couldn’t be worse. My ankle is healing faster than expected—the constant throb has faded to an occasional grumble, and the crutches are starting to feel less like survivalequipment and more like a prop. Halfway through the six to eight weeks, and every day that the cast feels lighter is a day closer to Leo having no reason to stay.
“You look like someone who needs to cuddle a guinea pig,” Jaymee announces from behind the counter.
She’s not wrong.
And a guinea pig is a much safer option than who else I want to cuddle.
I lower myself onto a stool as Jaymee disappears toward the small animal enclosures. She returns a moment later and deposits a fluffy caramel-colored guinea pig onto my lap. “There. Cuddle therapy.”
Meanwhile, Billy examines a squeaky toy shaped like a carrot with way more interest than it deserves.
“So, what’s going on?” Jaymee asks. “How’s life with your hot, guilt-ridden roommate?”
Trust Jaymee to skip the small talk.
“It’s…complicated,” I say.
“Complicated how?” Jaymee asks as she starts stocking fish food containers on a nearby shelf. “Complicated like ‘we’re getting along?’ Or complicated like ‘I need to hide the kitchen knives?’”
“Neither. Both. I don’t know.” I stroke the guinea pig’s soft fur. “I need to tell you guys something.”
Jaymee stops mid-restock. Billy puts down the carrot.
“There was nothing accidental about my accident. Leo did it deliberately,” I say.
Billy blinks. “What? Why would he do that?”
“I’m fairly sure he thought I was my brother. They used to work together, and it appears my brother did something to piss him off enough that he wanted maple syrup-flavored revenge.”
Jaymee looks horrified. “Oh-em-gee, Archie, I’m so sorry. He seemed like a decent guy. But now you’re telling me we pretty much left you with a psychopath.”
“Don’t worry. He’s not a psychopath. And I’ve been making sure he pays for what he did.”
An image of Leo in the unicorn onesie sneaks into my head, and I suppress a grin. “And he’s actually a really great guy when he’s not armed with breakfast condiments.”
Jaymee looks at me suspiciously. “Uh-oh. It looks like you’re developing a small crush on the guy who attacked you.”
“He didn’t attack me. I mean, well, he did, but it was more of a maple-syrup mishap based on a misunderstanding.”
Jaymee’s eyes rise. “I notice that you didn’t correct me on the idea that you’re developing a crush on him.”
“It’s not a crush,” I say. “It’s more of an…appreciation of the guy.”
“You appreciate the guy who broke your ankle?”
