I get up and move into the kitchen. Leonard glances up, does a double take, and wrinkles his nose. “No, dude. I don’t like it.”
I shrug. “As long as no one recognizes me, that’s the point.”
He squints. “You look a lot like your dad.”
“Do you think that’s going to be a problem?” Min asks, worrying her bottom lip.
Leonard shakes his head. “Nah. The only reason I can tell is because I know him. No one else will connect the dots—especially with all that hair hidden. That was always a dead giveaway.”
Min exhales in relief. “Phew.”
I grab the last slice of pizza from the box. Eating feels strange with the prosthetics tugging at my skin, but they’re surprisingly light and hold up well. I pour myself a glass of milk, and Leonard immediately screws up his face.
“You don’t drink milk with pizza.”
I arch a brow. “Says who?”
“I do, you savage. The only drink you’re supposed to have with pizza is beer.”
I smirk. “And you’re the authority on that?”
Min snickers. “I agree with Leonard. Milk is for cookies.”
Before I can retort, Esmerelda’s voice cuts in from the door. “Yup, beer or nothing.”
I turn toward her voice. and holy shit!
She’s poured into a full latex gown, dark and gleaming, the sleeves cut short to show off the handcuff-style bracelets that cinch her gloves. Every step toward us is smooth, deliberate, and I fight hard to keep my mouth from falling open. I try even harder not to ogle. But she’s… breathtaking. Dangerous and gorgeous in a way that makes heat pulse low in my gut.
When I finally drag my gaze away, Leonard is grinning at me. He drags a finger across his chin, mocking me for the drool I refuse to believe is there. I tell myself I won’t give in; I won’t wipe my mouth. But then, just in case, I do it anyway.
He throws his head back and howls with laughter.
Esmerelda glances between us. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Leonard says cheerfully. “I just think it’s going to be impossible for your hubby to get out of that chair right now.”
Heat floods my face. “I—what?”
Leonard snorts. “As if you don’t know what I’m referring to?” He cuts his eyes deliberately toward my crotch.
I swear, I’m going to kill him with my bare hands.
Esmerelda follows his gaze. Her eyes widen when she realizes what Leonard is implying, and gods help me, the bastard isn’t wrong. Mortification scorches through me, but I refuse to flinch, refuse to cover myself like some awkward twelve-year-old.
I turn my glare on Leonard instead. “Why don’t you shut up and eat your damn pizza?”
He laughs even harder, and Min shakes her head with exasperation. Esmerelda just stares, stunned, as I sit there, burning alive in my own skin.
And all I can think is tonight just got a whole lot more complicated than I expected. How the hell am I going to get through this?
17
ESMERELDA
My tongue has been stuck to the roof of my mouth for just about the entire car ride over, and swallowing is near impossible. It started back in the kitchen when Marcus looked at me likethat.
Not just with heat, but with hunger.
