Page 64 of For Butter or Worse
“But if anything, you’d be the wicked stepmother.” She smirked, clearly proud of her joke.
He was relieved to hear her banter with him. He could work with that. “If I’m the stepmother, that makes what we did quite unorthodox.”
He’d barely slept. He’d closed his eyes to act like he was asleep, but he was just reliving every moment that had happened. After making her come, all he wanted to do was cuddle with her in bed. But they were just having sex, per her request. Still, he’d caught himself reaching for her more than once, and had to stop himself.
So, of course, the minute he’d managed toactuallyfall asleep, she’d taken that as her opportunity to leave.
If this had been a normal date with anyone else, he’d have no problem suggesting they spend the morning going for another round. But this was Nina, and she wasn’t just anyone. They needed each other if they wanted to make it through the fiscal year, but he alsolikedher in a way he knew she didn’t reciprocate. If she did, she wouldn’t be searching for the exit.
Then there was the deeper, fun-house part of his brain that stowed away the darkest of his humiliated thoughts—maybe she was thinking about the model/chef trying to win her back. Leo had done his best to distract her from any thoughts ofhim, but maybe it hadn’t worked. What if all he’d done was remind her of how great she used to have it? Unintentionally driving Nina back to Charlie.
His stomach churned. He had no right to dictate how she viewed him, but he also couldn’t ignore the heaviness that settled over him.
“What’s wrong? You look like you ripped a hole in your cashmere,” Nina joked.
He must have looked as bad as he felt. But he wasn’t sure how to hide the fact that he had a crush on the woman he was fake dating and for-real sleeping with.
He changed the subject. “How were you planning to get home, exactly? You know I drove you here.”
She squinted, thinking about that. “I was going to borrow your car?” She wasn’t asking him a question so much as searching for an answer.
“That would be stealing my car,” he said, “since you didn’t ask for permission to borrow it.”
“That’s not true. I left you a note in red lipstick on your bathroom mirror.” She pointed toward the closed bathroom door.
He forced a smile. “I’ll drive you home. Just give me a few minutes to drink some coffee and get us breakfast. I get a little hangry if I don’t eat right away.” This was true.
“You don’t cook,” Nina said, tilting her head in a devastating oh-you-sweet-little-thing kind of way.
“I paid a very expensive personal chef to teach me how to make smoothies that taste like a milkshake. It’s my thing.”
He waited for her to protest. She looked toward the door, then back at him. She eyed her nails before responding. “Better be a chocolate milkshake, then.”
As he walked into the kitchen, he quickly checked his phone. There were lots and lots of texts from his publicist, agent, mother and brother.
Gavin:Ma is going to start planning your wedding if you’re not careful! You know she follows you on IG.
Leo would have to deal with his family later. There was a more pressing text that caught his eye.
Tom:You did NOT run this sleepover by me. I’ve sent a photographer to the house. Look presentable and IN LOVE.
“Did you see this text from Tom?” he called out to Nina.
“Shit, I better call him,” he heard her say.
Gavin:Don’t leave me hanging. What’s going on??
Leo:Don’t you have to be at work in an hour?
Gavin:My boss seems to be taking the day off, so maybe I will too...!
Leo rolled his eyes, then stretched his stiff back. He did need to go into the restaurant to update the inventory, come up with an agenda for the next staff meeting and check in on details of the staff Christmas party—all part of his running to-do list. But right now, all of those responsibilities were the furthest thing from his mind, because he was walking toward Nina with the greatest smoothie she’d ever taste...he hoped.
“Tom? I’m going now. I have not lost my mind. Okay, I will, ’bye.” She looked at the smoothie, then at him with suspicion.
He took a big gulp from his own cup, licked his lips, then smiled with the confidence of an actor getting paid to sell a product. “Worst-case scenario, you’ll have another thing to make fun of me for.”
She cautiously accepted the glass, scrunched her nose, then took a sip. She smacked her lips, then slowly looked back at him. “That’s actually edible. No way you made this. Did you Postmates it?”
