Page 39 of Winning Brynn

"You're still wearing my hat." He knocks the cap lightly with his knuckles, breaking the silence.

I frown, forgetting that I'd stolen it earlier during our highly confusing moment in the kitchen that was fraught with sexual tension—at least on my end. Mindlessly, my fingers reach up to skim across the visor.

"So I am."

"Can I have it back?" His smirk tells me he already knows the answer.

"Nope."

"That's the second one of mine you've stolen now."

"Yeah." I smile wide. "I'm starting a collection."

"Can't you buy your own?"

"I could.” I shrug. “Wouldn't be as fun, though."

He stands and holds out a large hand to help me up. Without discussing it, we begin the walk back to his car, both of us under the assumption that we'll be riding home together, him with his hands stuffed into his pockets, me with my arms wrapped around my abdomen to protect myself. From the chill in the air or the confusing feelings swirling in my gut, I don't know.

"You're a pain in my arse, you know that?" But he's smiling as he says it.

"Maybe. But you're a prick."

"Yeah." He shrugs. "You aren't the first person to tell me that today."

Text thread between Leo and Alex

Leo:Coming back now to pick up the child you stole from me.

Alex:Here's hoping the government isn't currently hacking our phones.

Alex:Yo, POTUS. He's talking about his own baby. He knew she was with me the whole time.

Alex:I'm not a child abductor, I swear.

Leo:You done?

Alex:Just didn't have a kidnapping charge on my bingo card today.

Leo:It would be a blessing for us all if you were locked up somewhere, tbh.

Alex:Do I need to call you a prick again?

Leo:Nah, your sister did that for you.

Alex:Attagirl.

Chapter Thirteen

Leo

Things with Brynn haven'tbeen tense since the conversation outside the children's home the other day, per se—no more so than usual, anyway—but I'm under no illusions that she's forgiven me.

Fair enough, to be honest.

I was a major prick, which is apparently everyone's favorite word at the minute. And I left that conversation feeling thoroughly chastised and ashamed, which, if that was her goal, she accomplished flawlessly.

Mission complete.

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