Page 42 of Willowbrooke
My senses were so completely overwhelmed. I felt lost in the moment, but never more glad to be so.
Leo and I clung to each other, desperate to get closer as the kiss deepened. His hands were firmly wrapped around me, one pressed against the base of my neck, while the other was at the small of my back. I snaked one of my arms aroundhis torso, allowing my fingers to grip his shoulder muscles along his back; the other was pinned between us, my fingers splayed across the scruff at his jawline.
We separated briefly, both gasping for breath, before he leaned in again, powerless to stop himself, as the glass separating us from this taboo had been irrevocably shattered. I was both unable and unwilling to deny him.
His hands went to my waist, and I leaned forward, balancing precariously on one knee while I swung the other across him, allowing me to straddle him. I felt his fingers graze my stomach as he tugged at the hem of my shirt. I could feel how much he wanted me as I settled on top of him, unable to stop the rocking movement my hips made against him.
I wanted Leo with every fiber of my being, and with a couple of glasses of wine in my system, I was ready to throw all caution to the wind, jeopardizing everything I had worked so hard to achieve, just to have a taste of what life could be like with him.
I was prepared to surrender myself to the feelings that had been building for weeks, if not months, but had been suppressed so vehemently that they now crashed over me like a tidal wave, threatening to break me at any moment.
But just as quickly as everything began, it ended.
The room plunged into darkness as the lights in the house shuttered in the storm. Leo panted against my neck, trying to catch his breath. “The breaker is in the basement…”
With shaking legs, I extricated myself from his lap, leaning back on my heels. “I’m sorry…” I stuttered, unsure of why I felt the need to apologize, as I tried to both remember and forget what it had been like to have Leo’s mouth and body pressed against mine. “I should go to bed…”
I could feel Leo sigh before I heard it escape his lips.
Was he disappointed?
Frustrated?
Embarrassed?
Angry?
In the dark, he was next to impossible to read. I hated that I felt so compelled to dissect even the smallest reaction. Why was I so desperate to understand him?
Without another word, Leo got up from the couch and made his way toward the basement stairs.
I worried I had made a mistake, initiating that kiss, lighting that fire. Could it be put out now? I had everything to lose.
I paused a moment before confirming the decision to go to his room, and leave this future in the past. Another crack of thunder made my heart pound faster.
Storm or not, I couldn’t bear the thought of being rejected by Leo when he returned, so I’d deal with facing a different fear…alone.
The next morning, I felt like I had a mental hangover,trying to wrap my brain around why I had been stupid enough to freaking kiss Leo West.
What had I been thinking?
And the worst part was that I was going to have to face him again, sooner rather than later. What was I supposed to say? That I had been drunk? I mean, I had been tipsy, but I knew exactly what I had been doing. He’d know I wasn’t telling the truth if I lied and said I had been too drunk to remember.
But the worst part was the unknown. How was this going to affect us moving forward? Would he be mad? Feel taken advantage of? Embarrassed? Would he take the job from me?
Without realizing it, I’d missed our normal morning coffee as I spiraled, sitting in his bed, surrounded by him, but unable to move.
Eventually I managed to get myself dressed and peeked my head out the door. He wasn’t in the kitchen. I couldn’t hear him close by. So I chanced it, and quickly crossed through the living room toward the library, hoping he wasn’t lying in wait for me there.
Thankfully, the library was empty when I arrived.
But it didn’t stay that way for long.
“You’re avoiding me,” Leo accused, standing in the doorway.
The sound of his voice cutting through the quiet startled me, causing me to drop the book I’d been holding.
I spun around, expecting him to be angry. But he wasn’tmad—he looked hurt.
