Page 38 of For Butter or Worse
NINA
Don’t text him. Don’t text him.
Leo was officially seven minutes late to their fourth nondate. Maybe he had the wrong address or time, Nina thought as she sat in her car. But she couldn’t text to ask those things, because Leo hadn’t reached out. And she could be petty about things like that.
She was embarrassed about spilling her guts to him at dinner. And crying. Then being photographed while crying.
She never would’ve told him about her mom—she couldn’t believe she’d done that. But she’d had wine and was feeling vulnerable. She thought going out with Leo would help her forget about how much she missed her mother. But instead, she’d opened up. And to Leo, of all people. What had she been thinking? Now she couldn’t even look him in the eye, because he’d give her that oh-you’re-sad-and-motherlesslook back. The same reaction she got any time she told a guy about her mom. Although he hadn’t actually given her the pity eyes. So maybe Leo was different, in that respect.
Still, not reaching out, even to see if he was planning to show up, felt like the safer option. And she was used to not talking to Leo. His muteness shouldn’t have bothered her, but there was no denying the fact that she had checked her phone a lot more since their last date. Roughly ten thousand times more, if she had to guess. Wasn’t he going to at least comment on Tom’s insane email?
And then she’d “accidentally” wandered over to his Instagram to see if he’d posted anything new—he hadn’t. Even when she wasn’t checking his page, she couldn’t get rid of him in her own feed. All of Nina’s mentions were about him.
@MsNinaIfUrNastyHe’s hot, but you’re hotter. THANK U, NXT
@CookieBrooker u and@LeoODonnellreally broken up??
@LitAsAnOvenbest part of breaking up is making up amiriteeee
This is all a sham. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, she’d almost replied, then stopped herself.
Tom made sure to tell her that he’d been fielding mountains of press inquiries from reporters wanting to confirm whether or not she and Leo were dating. Of course, a few discerning Twitter users had assessed the situation and surmised that their relationship was all for show. But the overwhelming majority—150,000 organic tweets and counting—had taken the bait. People thought that LeNi—their new couple-ship name—were the real deal.
Nina’s IG post of her holding a pumpkin from Mr. Bones, where Leo had commented, was her most-liked post of all time. The comments were overwhelmingly positive, which was a change from people discussing how mean she was to contestants. And magically, the photo had added an additional 200,000 followers to her account.
So the charade seemed to be working. Or, rather, it was working to boost their social media profiles. Reservations at the restaurant had steadily increased since starting this new “relationship,” but she wanted them to skyrocket so she could feel at least a glimmer of hope that she wouldn’t have to close Lyon. In Tom’s estimation, the best way to do that was to push harder...and kiss Leo.
A tentative knock on her car window startled her. She clutched her chest and turned to see Leo. His face was way too close to the glass as he smiled a big, goofy grin.
But when she waved him away with her hand, he took the hint by backing up slightly. Her eyes focused as his arm flexed against the hood of her car. He wore a fitted, sky-blue shirt with a slight V-neck, and it was impossible not to notice his well-defined tricep along with a few other muscles she didn’t know existed.
Tom had asked them to look sexy, and Leo had clearly delivered. Not that she was attracted to him, or anything, but he did objectively have a nice body...
“Do you plan to pay for a car wash so I can get that handprint off?” she joked as she got out of the car.
“That handprint will be worth a lot of money someday. I recommend encasing it in plaster so it doesn’t lose any details.”
“You mean so I can lift your fingerprints and report you to the authorities when they eventually figure out you’re an axe murderer?”
He smirked back, then kicked up his leg behind him and held on to his ankle as he stretched out his upper thigh.
If they stayed here any longer, she was in serious danger of lingering on how his thigh was straining against the fabric of his workout pants.
“Should we hike?” she squeaked before turning away from him. Climbing up a mountain wasn’t her idea of a good time, but it was Tom’s. And at a particular lookout outlined in Tom’s email, there would be a waiting paparazzi, in case they wanted to...
Nina couldn’t think about kissing Leo. That just wasn’t going to happen.
They started up a residential street that wound its way toward the mouth of the park entrance. They walked under enormous fig trees, the seeds smashed and sticky sweet on the sidewalk.
“This is a terrible idea for a date.” She was already breathing heavily.
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s refreshing to see you actually be bad at something.”
She not-so-gently punched his arm, which was as thick and muscled as a juicy cut of meat.
“That was sort of a compliment, you know. I was saying you’re not bad at anything.” He rubbed the spot she’d whacked.
“Including punching?” She squinted as she looked up at him.
