Page 32 of Cheater and the Saint
He gave me a lopsided grin. “Of why you’re so hot.”
“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes and focused back on my laptop. “You’re such a liar.”
When he plopped down on the cushion next to me, it made mine bounce, and my laptop almost fell onto the floor. I caught it in time.
“Look, Frosty.” Leo leaned his head back and peered at me through long lashes. He had such sexy bedroom eyes, it was unbelievable. “I’m a slut, a party boy, sometimes an asshole, and a cheater. But I’m not a liar. Not always, anyway. I mean, everyone lies, but I try to be honest.”
“You’re a cheater? Like on tests?”
“Um.” His brow scrunched as he ran a hand through his hair and puffed out a breath. “Not exactly. More like a relationship cheater. I don’t mean for it to happen, but when the opportunity arises, I go for it, regardless if I’m with someone.”
“Wow,” was all I could say.
Leo gave an exaggerated gasp. “You judging me, Frosty? Oh, you really are cold.”
“Not sure what you expected me to say,” I muttered. “Cheating is a pretty shitty thing to do. If you can’t keep it in your pants, don’t jump into a relationship. Something like that can really fuck someone up.”
“Yeah, maybe that’s why I don’t do relationships anymore, Saint,” he shot back before leaning forward and snatching his coffee from the table. “Monogamy isn’t my thing, and anytime a girl or guy starts getting too involved with me, I tell them that. Whatever they decide after that is on them.”
Somehow, I didn’t fully believe him. Call it a gut feeling or my research into human behavior, but Leo hadn’t screwed anyone in a while. When he hadn’t been in class, he’d been home with me. There was more to it.
If he was a sex fiend like he said he was, he wouldn’t have turned down so many offers from his buddies to go out.
“Why did you come into my room last night?”
His shoulders tensed. “I told you why. I wanted to fuck.”
“You could’ve fucked anyone last night at the club,” I pointed out, studying the side of his face. He looked at his cup with a blank expression. “Instead, you left early and came home to me. Why?”
“You’re different,” he answered after a pause. “I’m used to people throwing themselves at me when they’re interested, especially when they know what sort of guy I am. But not you.” Brown eyes lifted to meet mine. “No. You give me shy smiles and grin at my stupid jokes, even when they suck. You’re blunt when you need to be and tell me what’s what, all the while trying to hide the fact that you want me. I don’t get it.”
“What don’t you get? That someone has self-control? Morals?”
Realization flashed across his face. “Ah. So that’s it. You’re too good for a random fuck… really? Or is it that you aren’t out? Because I can tell you right now that hiding who you are is a sure way to make your life fucking miserable. Believe me. I tried it.”
The hurt in his eyes when he said that last part was telling.
“You pretended to be straight?” I asked, wanting to make sure I’d understood him correctly. The pained expression I received in response to the question was answer enough for me. “Why? You’re not the kind of guy who seems to care what other people think.”
Leo was usually so carefree, flirty, and mouthy. And now? He looked vulnerable, like he was moments away from being torn open.
“Why do you push people away?” Leo asked, taking on an air of defiance. “You said the last time I asked that it was a conversation for another day. Well, that day’s here. What happened to make you so closed off from the world, Saint? Huh? Did bullies kick your ass? Make you feel worthless?” When I didn’t answer, he smiled a cold smile. “See? Not as easy as you think to answer personal shit. I denied who I was for reasons that are none of your fucking business.”
He stood, grabbed his coffee, and went down the hall toward his bedroom.
My head was spinning and hurting way more than it had when I’d been doing probability and statistics homework. In the span of maybe ten minutes, Leo and I went from funny banter and sex talk to issues so deep he’d become a different person. Angry.
I felt like I should apologize, but I didn’t know what I’d be apologizing for.
Just as I’d made the decision to go and try to talk to him, he came storming down the hall and headed for the front door.
“Leo?”
When he looked at me, he wasn’t the playful guy I knew. His eyes were dark and, if I wasn’t mistaken, there was pink around his lids. As though he’d been crying. He looked as if he was going to say something, but then he flung open the door and left, slamming it on his way out.
