Page 63 of If It Can't Be Us

One of my get-ready playlists is blasting through my bedroom at full volume, Megan Thee Stallion’sBodyis pumping me up for the evening.

I yank off another outfit and let it fall to the floor, not bothering to hang it up since I have only fifteen minutes before I need to head out the door to meet Leo. Frustrated, and standing in my underwear—a strapless black lace bra and matching thong—with my full ass facing the open door, I hear Leo’s voice.

“Viv?”

I turn around to see Leo standing in my bathroom, arms folded and grinning from ear to ear.

“What the hell, Leo?” I slam the door shut, then crack it open just enough to peek through. “What are you doing here, and why are you in my bathroom?”

He laughs, clearly amused and not sorry in the slightest. “I’m sorry. I texted you to let you know I was coming over early. I rang the doorbell, knocked, and even called your name all the way up to your room. If your music wasn’t so damn loud, you might have heard me. I was just looking for you; it’s not like I came into your bathroom to be creepy,” he shouts, trying to be heard over the music.

It occurs to me that I can turn the music down with my watch, so I do. I close the door fully and speak loudly enough for him to hear while I quickly throw on an outfit that, I hope, will be right.

“So, you just assumed I’d be in the bathroom fully clothed, hanging out? God, it’s a bathroom! You don’t barge into someone’s bathroom without permission.”

“Well, if you’d looked at your phone or kept your music at a reasonable volume, this wouldn’t have happened!” he retorts.

“You know I like my raunchy music to get me in the zone. I mean, technically, I’m playing it loudly for you. I want to make sure I bring my A-game, you know?”

I slide a pair of black leather leggings up over my hips and adjust them at my waist.

I hear him chuckle through the door. “How thoughtful of you… to think of me while in your underwear.”

Oh, he did not just say that! “When I get out there, you’re in so much trouble!” I call through the door as I slip on an off-the-shoulder emerald-green sweater and a pair of boots. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I assess my look. This will do. The off-the-shoulder style adds just enough sex appeal while still being appropriate for our friendly outing, and the leggings showcase my ass perfectly. I grab a few pieces of jewelry and open the door.

“Will you help me with my necklaces?” I ask, hurrying over to my purses and grabbing my black YSL bag. Leo strides into my closet, a smug smile painted on his face. I offer him a tight-lipped smirk as I hand him two necklaces and turn so he can fasten them while I switch items between purses.

As I move my lip gloss and credit cards, Leo stands behind me, draping a necklace around my neck. I lift my hair to give him better access. His breath is warm and soft against my neck, sending a shiver down my arms.

When he finishes, he lightly grips my shoulders. “There. All done,” he says, giving them a gentle squeeze, and then whispers in my ear, “By the way… you look really incredible in your underwear.”

Holy shit. I think I just came.

I whirl around, stepping out of the vulnerable position, and give him a light pat on the chest, trying to shake off the intensity. “Thanks, friend,” I say with a smile, pretending that his comment was perfectly normal. “Ready to go?” I ask, struggling to keep my voice steady when all I really want to do is jump his bones.

“I’ve been ready, Viv. That’s why I’m here. Do you have your coat? It’s bloody cold out.”

“Ugh! Why do I live here?” I whine. “My coat’s downstairs; I’ll grab it on the way out. I just did my hair, but am I going to need a beanie? That does not go with my outfit.”

“I think you’ll be fine since it’s still early and the sun is actually out. I’ve got an Uber that’s three minutes away.”

We rush downstairs, grab my coat, and step into the brisk December air.

* * * * ** * * * *

“Cheers, Viv.” Leo raises his wine glass and waits for me to clink mine to his. The second bottle of wine is empty on the bar top at Craft’s. Laughing, I lift my glass and tap it against his, stifling my laugh as I take a sip, trying not to spit my wine out.

I’m not even sure what we’re laughing about. We’ve been laughing at everything all day. My cheeks actually ache from all the smiling.

“I shouldn’t have any more. I’m already more drunk than I usually allow myself to get.” I set my glass down and pick at the crumbs on our charcuterie board, desperate for something to soak up the alcohol.

“Nah, you’re fine. You’ve been pacing yourself. It’s been a long day.”

“I know. But right now, I’m the perfect kind of drunk—just enough that everything is fun and funny, but not so much that I don’t know what I’m doing,” I say, pointing a fork at him as if giving a lecture.

Leo sucks in a breath through his teeth. “That is the perfect drunk. Why don't we finish these off, switch to water, and then walk home? By the time we get there, some of it will be burned off, and the cold will help sober us up.”

“I’ll drink half,” I compromise.

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