Page 15 of Sin Bin Daddies
Up close, I notice the faint lines at the corners of his eyes, the sharpness of his jaw, the way he carries himself—like a man who knows exactly what he’s doing.
He cups my cheek, thumb tracing the edge of my jaw. “You nervous?”
I nod, throat tight.
“Not to be weird,” I say, “but… I just broke up with someone.”
Leo doesn’t look surprised. He just nods once and takes a step back.
“I get it,” he says, voice low, steady. “When I went through my breakup, it took me a long time to get back out there.”
I tilt my head. “How long?”
His mouth curves, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “A long time.”
He steps farther away, and I hate the loss of his warmth. The loss of his scent.Fresh grass and leather, like a summer afternoon after the rain.
“You hungry?” he asks, heading toward the open kitchen. “All that walking has me famished.”
I blink. “What?”
He pulls out a loaf of bread. “Grilled cheese?”
I hesitate, but my stomach answers for me, growling loudly enough to be embarrassing.
Leo smirks. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He moves easily through the kitchen, pulling out cheese, butter, and a pan.
“You’re in luck. I’m a grilled cheese expert. Used to make them all the time after hockey practice.”
I raise a brow, leaning against the counter. “You played hockey?”
“Played, coached, trained. It was my whole life for a long time.” He flips on the stove. “When I was your age, I was in the minors, eating cheap grilled cheese and pretending my apartment’s heater wasn’t broken.”
I snort. “When you were my age?”
His eyes flick to mine, amused. “Yeah, Madeline. I’ve got a few years on you.”
“A few?” I tease. “That’s one way to put it.”
He stops buttering the bread. “You still want the sandwich, or are you gonna keep calling me old?”
I smile, feeling a little more relaxed now. “I’ll take the sandwich, please.”
“I’m open ears, by the way,” he says. “If you wanna talk, you know, with me being older and wiser and whatever.”
I don’t know why, but suddenly, I’m saying it. “My ex was going down on some other girl in the lab when I caught him.”
Leo freezes, knife hovering midair.
Shit, shit, shit. I clamber on a kitchen stool, wishing the ground could swallow me whole.Why the fuck would I ever admit that?
I watch his jaw clench, his fingers flex. The way the bits of gray at his temples catch in the low kitchen light.
“Damn,” he mutters.
I let out a breathy, humorless laugh. “He used to say he hated giving head. Found it disgusting.”
