Page 51 of Leo
“Me too.I don’t know if I could’ve waited till Edward was ten before I started dating his dad.”
“I wasn’t going to start seeing people again until Edward was at least fifteen.Maybe eighteen.”
“Maybe twenty-one?Maybe fifty?”I teased gently.
“Sixty, at the latest.”
“Leo…” I couldn’t help it—a jaw-cracker of a yawn slipped out, and he murmured something I couldn’t make out.“Hmm?”
“Go to bed,” he whispered.“Get some sleep.And tomorrow I’ll have this all put away.I’m not going to let past me’s insecurities make present-me, and present-you, unhappy.”He was quiet for a moment before adding, “I really hate the thought of not being able to talk, even over text, every day.Or see each other when we can.When I realized I was already missing you, I knew I couldn’t break things off because of some arbitrary point when I decided Edward was old enough for me to have some life of my own.”
“Oooooh,” I sing-songed.“Do you like me?Do you want me?””“Oooooh, you like me,” I teased gently.“Ambrose and Leo, sittin’ in a tree?”
He huffed a sigh.“Never mind.Changed my mind.Night, see ya around town.”
“Hey!”I laughed.His chuckle joined mine.“You know, I don’t think we’ve have an official first date yet.”Leo made a pleased little noise, and he was definitely laying down—I could hear him shift against the bedsheets much like I was on my bed.
“So, who gets to plan the first date?”I asked.“Or are we counting Firey’s as our first?”
“That didn’t count.You wanted to talk about chamber of commerce stuff and the cupcake order.”
“I also wanted to take you out to eat,” I reminded him.“I just used a flimsy excuse to make it happen.”
“So, you didn’t want to, what was it?Pass the thanks on generationally?”
“Oh my god, shut up,” I groaned, chuckling.“That was not my smoothest moment.”
“No,” Leo agreed, sighing happily.“But I think if you’d actuallybeenslick about it, I’d have resisted harder.As it was, I was kind of… charmed.Or at least had my guard down enough to let you in.”
“Ooooh, talk dirty to me,” I teased.His blush was practically visible through the phone, in the way he sputtered and sounded flustered for a moment.“So, not to be a downer but did you call to not break up with me?Is that what this is, I mean?”Please say it is.
He sighed then very carefully, as if weighing each word, said, “To not break up with you, we’d have to be together.Together-together.”
“And is that what you want?”
A very long pause, during which my heart bounced around inside my chest, a wild bird caught behind a window, trying to get out.Then, “Yes.Yes, it is.I don’t know if I’ll be able to be a good… boyfriend?Are we too old to say boyfriend?”
“Lover?Paramour?”I paused.“Honeybunny?”
“Boyfriend it is,” he muttered.
“Probably the best option,” I agreed, smiling so hard it hurt.“And I think that anyone who assumes they’ll be the best boyfriend from the get-go is really overconfident.”
“How do you figure?”
“Well, if you go into things thinkingI’m a great boyfriend, best one ever, no room for improvement, no notes, you’re going to end up disappointing the other person and probably yourself.”
“My inner perfectionist says that’s bullshit but it also makes sense.”
“Your inner perfectionist can shut up for a bit,” I yawned.“Christ, sorry.I’m usually in bed by now.Well, asleep.I’m already in bed.”
His voice lost some of that blurriness and dropped another note or two.“Oh?So we’re both in bed now.”
“Unfortunately not together.”
He sighed.“Well.I’d say that could be arranged but…”
“Well.Not this time but maybe next time.Or the time after.”
