Page 106 of One Life to Loathe

He nodded. “Always.”

“It’s about your parents.”

He didn’t freeze this time. He simply waited, his hands still roaming my midriff in a light caress.

“Do you ever think about going back to your hometown long enough to tell them exactly how you feel about them?”

His nose wrinkled. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Closure.”

“I have closure. The door to my life is closed for them.”

“But … there are photos of us in the tabloids,” I reminded him. “They just came out yesterday.”

“I saw.” Leo was back to grinning. “I particularly liked the one of us talking to Michael Myers. I didn’t even know that the photographer had taken that one. It looks as if we’re just chilling in a horror movie.”

“I like that one, too,” I admitted. “It makes me laugh. Real paparazzi are going to show up, though—I think they’re actually more interested in getting photos of Ed and his harem, but they’ll settle for photos of us too—and that means we’re going to be appearing in a lot of places. Don’t you think that means your parents will decide to make another money attempt?”

He moved his thumb to my exposed collarbone and traced it. “I haven’t really considered it,” he admitted. “It does make a strange sort of sense. The only time I’ve been on the gossip sites before this is because I lost my temper … or got called difficult by a co-star. This might make them see dollar signs.”

“If you were to go to them—maybe once we’re done filming—you could tell them exactly how you feel about what happened when you were a kid.”

“They wouldn’t care.”

“But you would. You could unload all of the feelings you’ve been keeping locked away. It doesn’t matter what you say, just that you get a chance to say it. Then, when you’re finished, you’ll be able to put them behind you.”

“I’m not sure what I even want to say to them.”

“That’s okay, too.” I gripped his fingers and squeezed until he looked down at me. “I could go with you. I mean … only if you wanted. I wouldn’t go if you didn’t want me there. I could be your backup, though.”

He looked genuinely touched but shook his head all the same. “Sam, I would never let you anywhere near my father. I would lose my shit if he even looked at you funny. Then I would have to kill him.”

He was serious enough that I merely nodded. “You could at least talk to your mother.”

“She’s lost to me, Sam. It’s okay. I think I was always better off without those two in my life.”

“Definitely. I want you to be able to let it go, though.”

“I have let it go.”

“Really?” I cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. I haven’t let it go completely. I’m not dwelling on it, though. Not anymore. There were years when I did dwell on it—when everything I did was about showing them I was better than them—but I don’t even really think about them any longer.”

“What do you think about?”

“Weirdly, I think about you.” He nipped in for a kiss. “I also think about how this top makes you look as if you have twice as much boob as you actually do.” He gave me a friendly squeeze and then laughed when I elbowed him. “It was just an observation.”

I leaned in for a kiss. Before we could settle into it, though, another figure decided to squeeze under the bar with us. It was Dexter.

“Miles is looking for you,” he said to Leo.

“Why?” Leo didn’t look happy with the news, but he kept a firm grip on me so I didn’t try to escape now that we had an audience. “Is he going to try to make me show more fang again? That really bugs me when he tries to get me to show more fang.”

“It could be worse,” I argued. “He could want you to show more boob.”

“My boobs are nice. I’m perfectly fine going there.”

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