Page 25 of You're so Bad

She really has a way of making me feel like a slacker, what with all this feng shui, movie extra acting, and horseback riding, but I love it for her.

“Okay,” I say, eyeing Leonard. “But you better not try anything.”

“I was thinking of pocketing the clay dick. Is that what you meant?”

“You can have it,” I scoff. “The rest of the mug too.” I could fix it, but the mug feels tainted now. When I saw it lying broken on the floor, it seemed like a message from the universe that I’m cursed in the love department.

“Really?” he asks, eyes bright, like he’s actually excited to have it.

“Sure. If you hold up your end of the Sten bargain, I’ll even show you how to piece it together.”

“I already said I was going with you,” he says with mild annoyance.

“I can tell you two will have a ball,” Nana says before turning her attention to Leonard. “Don’t forget the cheese for the charcuterie board.”

Leonard lifts a scandalized hand to his chest, his arm flexing. My eyes find the scar just above the tattoo of a dog. I wonder about both of them—and am annoyed with myself for wondering.

“I’d no sooner forget the cheese than I’d forget Tiger here’s birthday.” Then he adds in a theatrical whisper, “When’s your birthday, Tiger? Help a guy out.”

I feel a prickle down my spine. If I tell him, he’ll make a big deal out of it, and I’d prefer for him not to. “A lady never tells.”

“She’s turning thirty-two,” my grandmother offers helpfully, but she doesn’t give me away.

“Thanks a lot, Nana.”

Leonard’s brows wing up. “Huh, I figured you were pushing forty.”

“No, that’s you,” I shoot back, although he doesn’t look forty any more than I do. Maybe thirty-five. Could be younger, but he has the look of someone who’s lived hard and had fun doing it. I probably look like a doll preserved in a box.

“Why are you making a charcuterie board?” I ask my grandmother with suspicion. “Are you having a party you forgot to tell me about?”

“Burke is,” Leonard says. “Tonight. But I’ll take you if you ask nicely.” He winks. “Might be good practice.”

“We’ll see.”

“That’s Shauna for no,” my grandmother says, leaning in and kissing my cheek. The cloud of unfamiliar perfume gives my heart a squeeze.

“Don’t fall off the horse,” I tell her as she leaves. She’s chuckling as she disappears from view, leaving me alone with Leonard.

Sighing, I shift my attention to him.

“Eat,” he says, surprisingly earnest. Then, when I make no move to slide behind the desk, he adds, “I don’t like my women too thin. I need something to hang on to.”

“I’m never going to sleep with you.” I wave a finger for emphasis. “Never.”

“Promises, promises.” He nods to my chair again. “Sit. No one likes cold french fries.”

I give a slight shudder, because he’s right. French fries should be crisp and warm in the middle. Anything less is like a hot date that ends with a limp noodle.

Sighing, I take a seat behind the desk. As I pull out the food, I nod to a single chair backed up against the wall. “You sit, too. I don’t want you looming over me.”

He rolls his eyes but retrieves the chair and pulls it up while I open the to-go box. There’s a sandwich in there, but I bypass it and take out a fry, then three, because I don’t care about impressing him.

He has an amused look on his face as he watches me shove them into my mouth.

“You think it’s funny to watch women eat?” I ask after I chew and swallow.

“I just got done telling you I like it.” He leans back, spreading his legs in that way men do, like his dick is too big to be contained by his legs. “You this touchy with everyone?”

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