Page 65 of Cheater and the Saint
I explained all of that to Leo.
“I’m sorry that happened,” he said, reaching across the table and linking our fingers. “So you thought I was like that bastard Chase when we met? Is that why you didn’t trust me?”
I nodded, too ashamed to answer. Knowing what I knew now about Leo, I’d never put him in the same category as Chase. They were nothing alike.
“If you don’t want to go to the party tonight, I get it,” he said, squeezing my hand before letting go. “But know that I wouldneverlet anything happen to you.”
Seeing the warmth in his brown eyes right then, I believed him. However, there was no way I’d be able to make it through a party. Not when just the thought of it sent me into a panic.
“Thanks,” I said, feeling my heart do that weird skipping thing again. I took a drink of my coffee and cringed. It’d cooled off during me telling my story, so I got up and heated it in the microwave before sitting back down. “I think I’m gonna stay in tonight, but you can go. It’s more your thing anyway.”
“At least invite Angel over, so you aren’t alone,” Leo suggested, looking concerned. Then, his lips twitched with a smile. “Maybe you guys can suck each other’s blood or something.”
When Leo winked, not being subtle at all in his suggestion, it kind of hurt. I’d somehow convinced myself that he didn’t want anyone but me, and that he didn’t wantmewith anyone, either. Like we were in an actual relationship. It was my fault for assuming, when I should’ve known better.
I’m so pathetic.
“There won’t be any sucking of blood or anything else,” I said, unable to keep the bitterness out of my tone. “We’re just friends.”
“We’re just friends, too, Frosty, and we can’t keep our hands off each other.” Leo waggled his eyebrows. “So it’s cool if you want to do something with him.”
Why did I get the feeling he was wantingme to be with Angel?
“I don’twantanyone other than you, Leo,” I snapped. Maybe I was cranky from not having enough coffee yet, or perhaps it was my insecurities about not being enough for him, but I was tired of pretending. “You are all I want. I don’t want to fuck Angel or anyone else for that matter. Okay?”
With wide eyes, he nodded. “Yeah. Got it.”
The rest of the morning passed with me cooking us breakfast—eggs, toast, and frozen sausage links I tossed onto the skillet to heat. After a mug of coffee, I was less bitchy and apologized for snapping at him.
“I know how you can make it up to me,” he practically purred as he dipped his face to my chest and kissed my collar.
We fucked on the couch, which was a challenge since it wasn’t that big. But we made do. A weirdness settled in my gut, though, and I couldn’t shake my thoughts from earlier.
Leo needed to head to a costume shop in town to pick something up to wear that night, so he showered and got dressed as I cleaned up the kitchen. Before he left, I told him he could go as Captain Douchebag, as a joke, but Leo being Leo took it seriously.
Therefore, he came back home with a red cape, a nametag, one of those shirts that had the printed muscled torso on it, and a pair of sunglasses. When he modeled it for me, he strutted around our living room, saying cheesy pick-up lines and calling mesweet thang.
I laughed. Hard.
Goddammit. I had it bad for him.
Our arrangement was supposed to be fun and drama-free, a great way to have fun that semester in between the stress of classes. I never intended to let myself feel more for him. As much as I tried to stop it, I couldn’t.
I sent a text to Angel and asked if he wanted to come over that night.
Angel:Sure! Wanna binge some horror flicks and eat junk food? Nothing more Halloween than that.
Me:Sounds great. My fav candy is starburst btw. Just throwing it out there.
Angel:Got it ;)
In a short time, Angel had become a really close friend. We had so much in common: loved a lot of the same books and movies. The books I hadn’t read that he loved, I bought and read, and vice versa. He was a psych major, too, but wanted to go more into forensic psychology.
Later that evening, Leo strutted out of his bedroom again in his costume.
“How do I look, sweet thang?” he asked, winking and pointing at me with his forefinger and thumb like a gun.
“Like a total douche,” I answered. After grabbing a marker, I wroteCaptain Douchebagon his nametag and slapped it on his chest. “Have fun.”
