“Did you write the whole thing while I slept?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“Leo?”

“Yeah, sunshine.”

“So not a one night thing,” I whisper.

He chuckles softly and drapes an arm around me, pulling me closer to him.

“I’m glad you’re catching up.”

Chapter Seven

“What did you pick?” I ask as I wander into the living room from the bedroom. I’m fresh out of the shower, finally feeling normal again in fresh clothes, my hair washed, and belly full of soup from my favorite deli down the block that Leo fetched me for dinner.

And I don’t even need to throw up.

If I don’t watch it, I could get used to being pampered.

The opening credits of a movie are paused across the TV.

“The new James Bond,” he grins at me from the couch and I plop down next to him. “Feel better?” he asks.

“Much, thank you.”

“No Nash t-shirt?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

I look down at my shirt and back up at him with a sassy grin. “The Goo-Goo Dolls are my favorite.”

“Right. That’s not what you said last night.” He pushes play on the remote and Adele begins to sing the opening song to the movie.

I love Adele.

“I was delirious with fever,” I mutter and settle in next to him, leaning my head on his shoulder.

“Liar,” he whispers with a chuckle and kisses my forehead.

I enjoy having him here, in my space, among my things. I never thought I could be so comfortable with someone for long stretches of time. People usually annoy the hell out of me.

Hell, sometimes I annoy the hell out of me.

Leo and I have settled into a rhythm. The conversations are interesting. The silences aren’t uncomfortable.

And he likes to have me near him, which is a comfort to me, not just because I’ve been sick.

I link my fingers with his and rub my thumb over the ink on his skin. I love his tattoos. I can’t stop looking at them. I wonder what these on his hands mean to him?

I wonder if he’d tell me if I asked?

Leo clears his throat, and I realize I’ve been lost in thought. I look up into his smiling gray eyes. “What?”

“The movie isn’t playing on my hand.”

“Sorry,” I mumble and pretend to watch the movie.

“Don’t you like James Bond?” he asks.

“Sure, I like it.”

“Why aren’t you watching it?”

I climb onto his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. “You know,” I begin and kiss his chin. “I haven’t made out during a movie since Ethan Middleton took me to see Toy Story in the eleventh grade.”

“What kind of a douche bag takes his date to see Toy Story?” Leo responds, wrapping his arms around my back.

“I had a big crush on Ethan,” I reply with a laugh and kiss his cheek. “I didn’t care what he took me to see.”

“Did he score that night?” Leo asks, his eyes happy and laughing.

“Hell no, but he got to second base. Play your cards right, and I’ll let you score a home run, sexy man.”

“Where is Ethan now?”

“I have no idea.” I shift so I’m straddling him, my knees planted on the couch at his hips. “The point is, I think we should make out.”

“You are feeling better,” he kisses my nose and then lifts me off his lap and dumps me back on the couch beside him. “Watch the movie.”

“I wanna make out,” I pout and cross my arms over my chest, earning a belly laugh from Leo, and my stomach tightens at the sound.

Even his laugh sounds musical. God, I could eat him with a spoon.

“You wanna make out, sweetheart?” he asks and shifts toward me, pushing me down onto my back on the couch.

“Well,” I shrug nonchalantly. “You know, if you want to.”

“You are so sassy,” he mutters and stares down at my lips. “I’ll make out with you if you want.”

“Oh good, I was afraid I was going to have to track down Ethan.”

“I’m the only man for this job, baby.”

He plants his elbows on the cushion beside my head, rests his lower body against mine and leaves tiny kisses on my chin, my jaw, and then slides his nose against my neck, making me shiver and squirm.

“You have great lips,” I whisper and feel him grin against my ear. I run my hands down his firm back and pull his t-shirt up so I can feel his warm skin beneath my hands.

“Clothes stay on,” he whispers and continues with the small, sweet kisses.

“Why?” I ask and gasp when he bites my ear.

“We’re just making out.”

“For now.”

He pulls up to brace himself on his hands and stares down at me with shining gray eyes. “No, we’re just making out. No farther than second base.”

“Uh, Leo, Meg’s the one with the three date rule, not me. Remember?”

His face splits into a wide smile and I feel myself smile back at him.

“She has a three date rule?” he asks.

“Yeah, she about killed Will.”

“That’s my girl,” he chuckles proudly. “And I do believe you made me wait through about five dates.”

“Running isn’t a date.” Holy Mary Mother of God, if he licks my neck like that again, I’ll tear his shirt off his body and attack him.

“I bought you a meal each time. It was a date,” he whispers and moves to the other side of my neck to wreck the same havoc on the sensitive skin below my ear.

“Leo?”

“Mmm hmm?”

“Kiss me, please.”

“I am.”

I pinch his ass, and he bites my ear and glares down at me.

“Please.”

My eyes fall to his lips, his silver metal in his lower lip, and I’ve never wanted anyone to kiss me as much as I want him to right now.

He loops his fingers in my hair, tilts his head, and gently lays his lips over mine. I tighten my hands on his back, holding him tightly against me, and sigh deeply as he begins to move those talented lips. He nibbles and sucks, from one corner of my mouth to the other, leaving no piece of skin untouched.

My hands begin to travel, over his back, down his arms, up to his face, slowly and lightly exploring him, until I’m so consumed by him, I don’t hear the movie, or feel the couch under me. All I know is Leo.

I thread my legs through his, not able to get close enough, and rotate my hips against him, but he abandons my lips and slides down to my ear.