Page 38 of Fragile

I scrubbed a hand of frustration down my jaw. “What time is late late shithead?”

He huffed, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know why you’re getting so bent out of shape. It’s not like you’ve shown much interest before.”

Ash had turned to face me and I silenced the TV and leaned a hip against the cornerstone of the counter.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” My tone came out harsher than I intended. What could I say, the girl was a sore point.

Ash released a half-hearted snort. “Leonie. You treat her like she’s infectious. I was surprised you offered her Marco.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I powered on. “It’s called concern, dipshit. The Tube attack; they still haven’t caught the fucker. I’d worry about anyone stupid enough to travel the subway at night. How come you suddenly don’t appear to give a shit? I thought you were besties?”

“She doesn’t take the Tube,” he pointed out with a bland look.

I dropped my hand and rolled my eyes as I grabbed the plates. I hated that he knew more about her movements than me.

I had taken my finger off the pulse, something I never did. My obsession with not getting involved had led me to become sloppy. Not something that happened when I took care of mine, and Leonie was very much in that category now. Albeit not romantically, I told myself for the hundredth time.

“You appear to have left all your shit on the table,” Asher suddenly said. “Where do you want to eat?”

I glanced toward where he’d motioned. I sorted some stuff out but had left one of the archive boxes I’d brought back from Uni with me. “Just shove it all into the box and chuck it in my room, would you?” Ash nodded and did as instructed. Most of that shit could be shredded now. It was mainly envelopes with old application forms, nothing exciting.

Leonie’s face suddenly flooded my thoughts again. As I plated up, I recalled that stubborn tilt to her chin before she’d left. I’d felt a sick little kick as Leonie had attempted to stand up to me, but it also made me think I was losing my touch. I took shit from no one, especially a female barely-reaching-my-shoulder-in-height blonde. Leonie usually skittered around me like a mouse, and I suppose I only had myself to blame for that for not playing nice. But for my sanity, I had to keep doing that. I could still keep her safe, without getting too close; true feelings would never be involved. I couldn’t afford to let them.

In the end, we didn’t bother with the table. Ash and I ate dinner on our laps, I switched to a compilation of fails on YouTube, but all I could think about was Leonie. Fuck me, the woman was getting to me. I’d started to dream about seeing that pale hair splayed across my pillow and imagined how it would feel to taste her perfect mouth. Hear her calling my name; wanting me, needing me. The whole thing had complicated written all over it.

The urges I felt when in her company were borderline indecent and I knew I couldn’t act upon them. Wouldn’t. I was usually a master of control, but I knew the girl could quite easily get under my skin and fuck with my head if I let her. I couldn’t allow a woman to impede the life I was slowly carving out for myself, one that didn’t include a relationship. Not when there was the risk of it going somewhere deep. I was a mutual no-strings type of guy who had sex purely to grant myself and my partner at the time that well-needed physical release. Feelings could do one, especially considering the profession I would be entering into. My father’s enemies would soon be mine and anyone attached to me would be at risk. I already had Asher’s sorry ass to worry about, I couldn’t cope with someone else.

As my brother and I sat eating the pasta we had made, thoughts of my results were at the back of my mind. I now felt a twinge of guilt for how I had spoken to Leonie as she’d left. Being a dick to her seemed to be fine in the beginning, but it was getting harder as every week went by.

She’d also made good on her offer to clean. Everything in the apartment was always so fucking neat. It felt like my mother had tidied my bedroom without my permission. Not that Leonie had set foot in there, just the rest of the house. The thought of her in my bedroom made my dick twitch.

The sexual chemistry between us was strong and I knew she felt it too. The way she eye-fucked me was a clear signal, and that wasn’t a good thing. I had caught her many times, secretly watching me, but it would only end badly for her and I didn’t want that, not really. As I said, being a prick pushed her away, and kept the craving I had at bay. The fact that she was such a genuine friend to my brother also stirred up other feelings that supported my lust; respect and trust. Two additional complications I could do without.

After Ash and I had eaten, we piled the plates in the sink and my brother went to find a movie to watch. Attempting to keep the concern over Leonie and her job from my mind, I glanced out at the dark London skyline. I should have demanded she rode with Marco, instead of dismissing her like a dickhead. It was still pouring down.

My eyes narrowed as rain continued to pelt the glass and I ground my teeth, recalling Leonie’s wide eyes as I grabbed her arm. Being so close to her did things to me. The shabby thinness of that cheap raincoat she wore had only increased my annoyance.

I remembered her bunched, defensive-set shoulders as she walked away. That monster in me had roared to life and I struggled to stop myself from hauling her back into the apartment, wrapping her hair around my fist and bending her head to mine. But no, I’d let her leave.

After watching part of the shittest Jason Statham movie I’d ever seen, Ash bailed and said he was going to bed.

I checked my watch; I could see that it was now almost midnight and Leonie still wasn’t home. My eyes flickered towards the lift. Where the fuck was she? Surely, last orders would have been called by now.

Genuine concern for her knotted in my stomach. Leonie was so fucking delicate, the concrete jungle that was London could easily swallow her up whole. What if something happened to her?

I turned in my seat and muted the TV, toying with waking Ash the fuck up. I needed answers. Did she always get back so late on a weeknight? I wondered fleetingly how that would affect her classes.

My pocket vibrated and I grabbed my phone and swiped the screen, it was Max. “Sup?” I said, rubbing the back of my neck, talk about tension.

From the background noise, he was clearly in a club somewhere.

“Guess where I am?” he chirped, his voice loud considering the music and laughter attempting to swallow him.

“How the fuck should I know,” I replied, feeling annoyed that he’d interrupted my thoughts about Leonie’s whereabouts.

“Strip club,” Max stated in a dry tone. It didn’t surprise me, none of us were a stranger to the strip joints that London proudly boasted. I was just surprised he was there on a weeknight.

My mood now well and truly ruined, I played along. “And what? You’re calling me because you feel guilty?”

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