Page 60 of Leashed

She turned her attention to the cars they were passing, her hands tightening on her purse. “I was overcaffeinating and thought you might be bored or something.”

Signaling for his turn, he eased off the gas. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“It wasn’t anything exciting.” She laughed nervously. “Just watched the snow fall and procrastinated on studying for a while.”

“Still sorry,” he tossed back, pulling onto the road that led to the college.

They sat in silence until he parked in front of the main building, his eyes scanning the walkway for ice patches as she gathered her things.

“So right here in three hours?” he clarified, handing over her coffee.

“That would be great. Thank you,” she called back to him, waving behind her as he yelled a quick good luck before the door slammed shut.

*

Sage practically skippedout of the doors, biting her lip and jolting to a stop as she caught sight of Bo sitting on the hood of his truck, sunglasses hiding the bloodshot eyes he’d had that morning. The blond streaks weaving through his long hair were almost white under the sun, moving fluidly every time he ran his hand through it.

Angelic, she thought. If angels wore leather, smoked, and swore a blue streak in casual conversation.

Though she had noticed he’d been making a valiant attempt to control the cursing around her.

Three women were leaning against the truck looking up at him, their faces revealing their disappointment when he muttered something to them and hopped off the hood, waving in her direction.

He jogged over and tugged her laptop bag off her shoulder, swinging it over his and offering his arm. “How’d it go?”

Still shaken by the flash of irrational jealousy rippling through her when she’d emerged, she exhaled loudly. “Good. And done.” She wrapped her hand around his forearm as her boot hit a patch of ice. “I’m regretting agreeing to work tonight, because all I want to do now is sleep.”

He opened her door for her and gestured toward the back seat. “I’d tell you to lie down on the ride home, but I killed a lot of time in the grocery store.” He walked around the truck and got in. “What time do you work?”

“Seven,” she replied, digging her thumb into her breastbone to ease the building discomfort. “That’s a lot of cans of soup.”

He tilted the rearview mirror. “That stack represents the extent of my cooking skills,” he stated proudly, waiting as a bus loaded before he backed out of his spot. “I’m pretty useless in the kitchen.” He smirked at her. “I make up for it in other rooms.”

“Ah, yes.” She hummed knowingly. “Your skills are much more apparent in the foyer where you can reach the overhead shelf.”

She sat back in her seat, catching every innuendo Bo tossed her way and throwing it back at him, her mind completely relaxed with the absence of assignments and exams and essays hanging over her.

Aside from the slight ache in her chest, she couldn’t remember the last time she felt so unwound.

When he pulled up in front of her apartment, she collected her bags and turned to him. “Thanks for the ride. You’re coming in for lunch, right?”

Bo checked his phone and nodded. “Yeah, I have an hour or so. Then I need to get across town and grovel for a job I blew off this week.” He shoved his keys in his pocket and followed her up the walk. “I hate groveling. Or begging. Or any kind of crawling.” Smirking at her, he stepped aside as she punched in her access code. “I’m guessing you’ve never had to grovel.”

Nixon’s face flashed across her mind and she exhaled. “Well, Nixon put us on a break last week, so I may need to learn. Or not,” she said as led him upstairs, his silence on her admission unexpected but appreciated.

Entering her apartment, she balanced on one foot, tugging her boot off and feeling his hand grip her hip when she tipped over. Using him as a base, she pulled her other boot off and stood, turning in place and laughing at her lack of grace. “Sorry. I’m definitely not a ballerin—”

There was no humor in his expression as he looked down at her, one hand still on her waist and the other caging her against the wall. He licked his lips and stepped flush to her, dropping his arm from the wall and tucking his hair behind his ear. “Tell me to go.”

She took a deep breath and shook her head slowly.

She would think about her refusal later.

He bent down, his lips grazing hers. “Please tell me to go.”

“I can’t.”

The kiss was hesitant at first, far gentler and sweeter than she’d envisioned Bo would be. When she instinctively leaned into him, his hand tightened on her waist and she felt his tongue run along her lower lip before he nipped at her. He pulled back and she opened her eyes, stepping closer to him and inching her hand up his chest, her thumb tracing the collar of his shirt until he kissed her again.

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