Page 12 of Loving Leo

We pull the wine from the fridge and sit there, our eyes meeting, laughter spilling between us as we realize how ridiculous our lives are.

My mind moves to Heath and I bite my lip.

Yeah, fucking ridiculous.

It’sfunny how I’ve only ever seen Heath Herold once in my entire life and now I seem to see him everywhere. Well, not everywhere, but out of a city filled with millions of people I find him in the most unexpected place. I’m striding down the grocery store aisle after class when I nearly run into him.

He’s dressed in jeans rolled up around his ankles, paired with sleek black boots. His biceps bulge in a tight gray shirt. His hair isneatly combed to the side, like some kind of fifties actor. Fuck, he’s a good looking guy.

Makes my mouth slightly dry.

“Hey there!” I say, a smile pulling my lips up. I can’t help it. We’ve only exchanged snarky letters in his office, but I kind of like the guy.

He’s funny in his own grumpy way.

He stares over at me, blinking. He knows who I am. I can tell by the way his eyes narrow and his lips turn down at the corners. I’m not deterred. I move toward him and peer into the basket hanging off his forearm.

“Oh, what a haul,” I say and then make a face. “Celery, peanut butter and avocados.”

He scoffs and then eyes the two five pound bags of M&Ms in my arms.

“At least I’ll live to be an old man,” he murmurs.

“Hey, do not diss the candy. They have peanuts in them. They’re healthy and on sale. And who says you’re not old?”

“I’m not.”

“Um, I beg to differ. You have to be at least eighty.”

His eye twitches and his cheeks turn a sexy shade of red. The color I’d imagine them turning if he was fucking into me.

“You’re wrong.”

“Am I? Shit. Do I need to go higher?”

He shifts on his feet and then sighs. “Fuck off. I don’t have time for your shit.”

He starts to walk off, but I traipse after him, too fucking intrigued by this man. And he has a nice ass. It’s fun to look at it in those pants.

“I was just kidding. I know you’re only like forty.”

“I’m thirty five.”

“Ah. My bad.”

I choke back a laugh as I follow him to the register.

“Is that all you’re getting?” I ask when he sets his basket down on the counter.

He doesn’t answer, just pulls out his phone and stalks toward the card machine. Without thinking, I reach over and put a small bag of candy into his basket and then set my M&Ms on the counter next to his, separating it with that little wand.

He pays without even looking at me and then grabs his bag and stalks out.

I want to follow him, to chat some more, but refrain. It’s fine. I kind of won that round and maybe if he eats that bag of candy, he’ll be a happier man. He could smile more, I think. I don’t know him, but he definitely should show those straight, white teeth more often. He spent a fortune on them, I’m sure.

He’s a rich guy. I looked him up. Spent an hour researching him online. There’s not much out there, but I gleaned enough.

Rich guy. Grumpy guy. Hot guy.

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