Page 83 of Cheater and the Saint
I loved that he was a few inches taller than me, and I leaned against him, snuggling into his jacket that smelled like the spice from his cologne and his own scent that drove me wild. I didn’t care that people stared at us.
When we finally got to the hostess, Leo told her his name and said we had a reservation for four. She grabbed menus and a basket of freshly baked bread before leading us to a booth near the corner window.
“Heath and Tabitha will be here in about five minutes,” Leo said, allowing me to get into the booth first before sliding in beside me. He’d specifically asked for a booth by the wall and in a corner, because he knew how anxious I got with my back facing the room. It was the small things he did that really showed me how much he cared. “Do you think it’ll be okay if we eat all the bread? The waiter should bring more before they get here.”
I grinned as he took two rolls out of the basket.
Leo devoured four of the rolls before they arrived.
“Hey, lil bro,” Heath said as they approached the table.
Heath looked nothing like Leo. He was bald and had dark green eyes. The only thing they had in common from first glance was their height and strong build.
“Hey, shithead.” Leo hopped up to give him a side hug before motioning to me. “Heath, this is Saint.”
I sat in the booth, feeling awkward. Should I get out, too, or just sit here and wave? God, why did I struggle so much?
“Hi,” I said.
“It’s great to me you,” he responded.
Tabitha slid into the booth first and Heath sat beside her. Leo retook his place next to me and put his arm behind my head. The waiter came to take our drink orders, and I settled against Leo, letting his presence calm my nerves.
Turns out, I had nothing to be nervous about. Heath might not look like Leo, but they shared the same goofy personality. Conversation was light and funny, and there was never a dull moment. Especially when Heath did the big brother thing and started telling stories about Leo from when he was a kid.
“Mom said we weren’t allowed treats before dinner, but Leo didn’t take no for an answer. Not surprising. He got a stool and moved it over to the counter and reached for the cookie jar. He was still too short, and the jar slid off the counter and busted. And this little fucker,” Heath pointed at Leo, “blames it on the cat.”
Leo’s cheeks turned pink and he reached for his drink. “I hate you.” I had to admit it was awesome to see Leo being picked on for once. When he caught me grinning, he leaned over and whispered, “Keep on smiling, babe. We’ll see if you’re still smiling later on tonight when I tease you so bad you’ll beg me to let you come.”
“Leo!” I hissed, bumping against him.
“What?” he asked, playing at innocent.
After dinner, we went back to the hotel Heath and Tabitha had booked for the weekend and had some drinks. I really liked Heath, and Tabitha—although she seemed a bit ditsy—was super sweet. Heath talked a lot about them growing up, mentioning their parents, and at each mention, something would shift in Leo. The easy smile he wore turned darker, and his eyes would lose their humored gleam.
Once we were back home, I decided to broach the subject again.
“Why aren’t you going home for Thanksgiving?” I asked, sitting on his bed as he stripped down to his boxers.
Leo stilled, and after a pause, he turned to me. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Did you have a falling out with your parents?”
“Fuck, Saint!” Leo knocked the empty beer can off his desk, and I flinched. “What’s with the fucking million questions about my family? I told you it doesn’t matter, so let it drop. Okay?”
I stared at him, taking in his anger. His hurt.
I used to do as he said and let it drop, but I couldn’t do that anymore. I’d opened up to him about the most mortifying and awful event in my life—being bullied by Chase, having my naked photo spread around school like a damn disease, being forced to leave the swim team, and hating basically every day of my junior and senior year of school. I’d shared with him all of my pain, and yet, he refused to do the same for me.
“This is bullshit,” I said, getting off the bed and nearing him.
He stared down at me with a clenched jaw. “What is?”
“You try to get in my head all the time. Poking and prodding at why I am the way I am,” I said, staring into his dark eyes and seeing myself reflected there. “You wanted to know about me being bullied, about my family, and everything else. Yet,younever let me intoyourlife. You share your body, but never your thoughts. Here I am, shedding every inch of myself for you, opening my heart up to you like I’ve never done for anyone else, and you remain emotionally distant. I ask something personal and you shut down. How do I get in there, Leo?” I jabbed at the place over his heart with my finger. “How do I reach you?”
He cracked jokes all the time, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was seducing me. But when our conversations got serious, he’d revert back to humor. He had sweet moments, but they were usually followed by something perverted coming out of his mouth. Not once had he ever said how he really felt for me and not been vague about it.
I hadn’t told him I loved him, but I had a feeling that if I did, he’d retort with something witty before getting me into bed.
