Page 51 of Bottle Rocket

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“Send me a picture of her,” Mal said. “I need to lay eyes on the person who has finally brought you to your knees. Emotionally. Not sexually. We all know you like that.”

Leo laughed. “Talk to you soon.”

“You too. Oh, and Leo?”

“Uh-huh?”

“I’m happy for you. You deserve love, but don’t give up the essence of yourself in order to have it. That’s not love. It’s a shadow of it. Okay?”

“Okay.” Leo hung up and smiled at Rosie. His mind was reeling. “Go put clothes on, then come enjoy the morning with me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t order me around, Leo Whittaker.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.”

She smiled and closed the door, but returned not three minutes later. She was wearing one of his T-shirts and a pair of running shorts. Her hair was drying into frizzy waves. He wanted more mornings with her. More mornings to see Rosie before she donned that straight-laced mask she showed the rest of the world.

“What’s up?” she asked. They rearranged themselves until she was sitting on the picnic table and he was standing between her legs.

“I leave tomorrow.”

She tensed. “I’m aware.”

“No need to sound so suspicious,” he said with a laugh. She scrunched up her nose and glanced away from him. “Hey, I’m serious. We’re going to be okay.”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” she admitted. “It’s easier to pretend it’s not happening.”

“It is, though. I think we should be able to have a conversation about it, don’t you?”

“Speak for yourself,” she mumbled under her breath. He couldn’t keep in his chuckle. He loved her grumpiness. He just really fucking loved her.

“We don’t have to talk yet, but it’s coming soon.”

She nodded. “Tomorrow. Before you leave.”

“Tomorrow,” he said.

She hopped off the table, and he saw the panic in her eyes.

“Can I have a kiss before you run out of here like I’ve set you on fire?”

She stalked back over and grabbed a hank of his hair. He melted under her hands, under her lips. This was too good to give up without a fight.

She pushed him away and groaned. “Ugh. You’re distracting.”

He smiled. “I’ll see you tonight. Remember, we have an orgy to attend.”

“As if I could forget.”

Chapter Twelve

The Fourthof July barbecue was rocking. There was delicious food everywhere and leftover decorations from the Lady Robin’s Independence Day Pop-up Party. A group of men were planning out where to shoot off fireworks, excited like a bunch of teenagers, ready to blow shit up. A few people were playing in the pool. And Rosie was beating her sister and brother-in-law, Perry, at cornhole.

Rosie’s cornhole partner, Wren Rebello, made her toss. It knocked one of Perry’s beanbags off the board. Wren threw her hands in the air and yelled, “Eat shit, Perry.”

Rosie laughed, slightly horrified. She’d forgotten how competitive Wren could be.

“She’s cutthroat,” Rosie whispered to Sasha.