Page 35 of You're so Bad

He looks sexy…but not really like himself, and part of me wishes he were in one of his band T-shirts and I was in the coveralls I like to wear in my studio.

“You got brand name,” he comments with a sigh, as if I just kicked a baby chick. “It’s such a racket.”

“That’s okay,” I say numbly, handing over the box. “My treat.”

His mouth hitches up as he looks me over, pausing on the top of my gold sundress in a way that makes me feel his perusal. Mira dyed my roots and trimmed my hair, and I’ll be damned if Delia didn’t magic that zit out of existence, at least for the night. Maybe I’m like Cinderella, and it’ll grow the size of a pumpkin at midnight, but if so, it’s worth it—until tomorrow.

“You’rea treat,” he says.

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. It feels nice to be appreciated, even if it is by a man who may or may not get busy in fast food bathrooms.

He whistles, his lips forming a shape that makes me feel hot behind my ears. “I’m guessing they got to you too?”

I laugh, because surely this means he also got the Mira and Delia treatment. The Evans sisters to the rescue. “They caught me at a weak moment,” I say. “Now, what do you say we go make some balls?”

“Just a second,” he says. “I got something we need to bring.”

My eyebrows have probably met my hairline by now. I want into that house, though, and this is my big opportunity. I take a big step forward.

“Eager to get inside, Tiger?” he asks, giving me another glance. It’s almost…hungry, and heat settles inside of me. “So am I.”

I poke him in the chest, annoyed with myselfandhim. It doesn’t help that his chest is solid and warm. “There will be no hooking up of any kind, Dr. Leonard. This is aprofessionalarrangement.”

“I know,” he says with a grin, still holding that box of cereal. “You teach me how to make a clay dick, and I help you screw with your ex. Even trade.”

“Don’t forget the cereal.”

He lifts the box and nods. “Thanks for that. That’s what we can call a bonus.”

“You’re welcome, but there will be no other bonuses. At least not of the sort I suspect you’re interested in.”

He lifts his eyebrows, his hazel eyes boring into me. “But if I’m not allowed to touch you, how are we going to make everyone else insane with jealousy?”

Crap, he has a point. I’d never considered that he’d have to put his hands on me to make the ruse seem real. The thought of him touching me, running his hands over my body, sends a burst of heat through me.

His lips lift up, revealing a flash of teeth whiter than they probably should be given he doesn’t seem like a paragon of self-care. “And shouldn’t we have a little fun?”

“That’s not the kind of fun I’m looking for,” I say with a firmness I don’t feel. I step past him into the house, giving myself a moment to think. The interior is…a surprise. Mostly because there aren’t dirty dishes sitting out, band shirts slung over the banister, or ash trays full of half-smoked joints. It’stidy, and it smells like lemons.

I say that out loud, and Leonard snorts. “You thought I lived like a pig, huh?”

“It was a favored theory of mine.”

“Rookie mistake. You want to make a mess, you do it at someone else’s place. That way you don’t have to live in it.”

“Sounds like you,” I say, mostly teasing.

“Besides, you clearly haven’t meant Mrs. Ruiz, the old broad who owns this place. She’d make your grandmother look like a kitten.” His mouth lifts up as he follows me in and shuts the front door behind him. “Speaking of which…”

I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about, but I don’t comment as he leaves me in the main room and goes off to stow the cereal and grab whatever it is he wants to bring.

Condoms, my mind supplies.

Stupid mind.

To ignore the intrusive thoughts, I look around. It really is very orderly, with a place for everything and everything in its place. There’s a little framed photo sitting on a side table, and I’m surprised to see it’s very clearlyLeonard’slittle framed photo. He’s in it with four guys. One of the others is Burke, Delia’s boyfriend, who was probably born with a chiseled jaw and five-o-clock shadow. Another is Drew Jones, Sinclair’s brother.

It’s…surprising that Leonard put this photo out. He comes off as a guy who doesn’t give a shit about anything, but I guess he does care about his friends. Then again, there are serial killers who are fond of their mommies.

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