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  “That depends,” he replies enigmatically, and then, out of the blue; “do you want me there?”

  I open my mouth to answer yes – yes, yes and absolutely yes – when, over his shoulder I catch sight of Noah. His eyes are narrowed, fixed on the two of us, and a dark scowl mars his usually handsome face. Dianna’s warning not to antagonise Noah comes back to haunt me as I become aware of the two people standing beside him - the older man and an attractive woman who appears to be in her mid-thirties. Both are immaculately dressed and I don’t need to be able to read the fine print on their white visitor cards to know that these are the Burke & Duke Representatives. Seeing that he has my attention, Noah deliberately turns his back on me and places a hand on the woman’s sleeve. The gesture seems innocent enough, but I know Noah and there is nothing innocent about it.

  To his credit, Leo doesn’t turn around to see what has captured my attention. He must notice the change in my expression though, and he shifts slightly, a small frown creasing the skin between his eyes.

  “I’m going to take that as a no, then,” he says. Is it my imagination or does he actually look disappointed?

  “No… I mean, that’s not what I… you’re more than welcome to join us. It’s not exactly a private function, you can come if you like. I mean, it’s not only up to me…” I trail off, perplexed at my sudden inability to articulate.

  Leo stares at me in that unnerving way for a long moment before speaking.

  “You know, Sarah, I’m hearing a lot of ‘I mean’s’ but I don’t think you’ve meant any of it.” His blue eyes dominate my vision as he leans in close to me, unashamedly invading my personal space. “Do you want me there or not?” His words are almost lost in the intensity of those incredible eyes, but they echo in my subconscious and I stifle the urge to close the distance between us. Our mouths are only inches apart. I lean back, intentionally, trying to put some much-needed distance between us. I can see Noah in my peripheral vision, still hovering, watching my every move.

  “Like I said,” I shrug, “it’s up to you.”

  This time I’m not imagining it. Leo’s disappointment is palpable. He wanted this invitation to come from me. Shouldering his bag, he gets lithely to his feet, his shirt pulling up to reveal a flat stomach, a line of dark hair burrowing below his waistband.

  “Well, maybe I’ll see you there.” His parting line is as unpromising as the emptiness he leaves behind when he’s gone.

  CHAPTER 7

  “You said what?” Jess is a formidable sight, hands on her hips, shoulders pushed back as she faces me in the kitchen like a matador challenging the bull. Tom backs away slowly, conveniently needing the bathroom. “Why? Why wouldn’t you say, yes Leo, please come over and tickle anything that tickles your fancy?”

  “Jess!” I laugh. “That’s disgusting.”

  “No,” she corrects, “you’re disgusting. I bet Leo’s amazing in the sack – he’s so controlled and dominant. And do you know how hard it was to track him down? To get him to even consider coming tonight? And then you go and give it a ‘oh, if you wanna… do what you want to do’! What the hell, Sarah? It’s like you’re trying to destroy me!”

  “You may be being just a little bit dramatic right now, I don’t know, it could just be me.”

  “That’s totally not funny.”

  “It’s a really busy year,” I try to justify, “I don’t need any distractions. Besides, he’s single. You don’t get to be single at his age unless you play the field. I don’t want to be another…”

  “If you say feather in his cap, I’m going to punch you in the face.”

  I keep my lips firmly closed.

  “Sarah!”

  I sigh. “You know what I mean, Jess.”

  “No,” she announces confidently, “I don’t. I’m calling bullshit right now. You like him, he’s hot, and, as you so clearly pointed out, he’s single. I don’t understand what the problem is.”

  She’s not going to let it go, I can tell. When Jess sets her mind to something, there is no force on earth powerful enough to stop her. Relenting, I exhale deeply, mentally preparing myself for the shit-storm I’m about to unleash.

  “It’s Noah,” I admit, and then, before she can interrupt, “he’s buttering up the Burke & Duke reps. And, before you say it, I know I’m probably being paranoid, but I’m worried he could try to destroy my chances at the internship.”

  The singular pause that follows this admission is far more terrifying than the outraged outburst I had been expecting. Jess is silent for at least a minute, her mouth opened in a perfect ‘O’ and then she shuts it abruptly. When she opens it again, what bursts from her lips is a screeching summons. “Tom!” Oh God, it’s worse than I thought. She’s calling for back-up.

  Tom practically falls over his feet as he rushes back into the room.

  “Who died?” he yells, his eyes darting between us.

  “You, sit!” Jess hands me a wine glass, the meniscus teetering dangerously over the rim. I take a huge gulp, partly to ensure I don’t spill all over my new vinyl flooring and partly to ease my nerves, while Jess fills Tom in. Obviously the story is embellished and convoluted to the point where Noah is the sole thing standing between me and my one true love. I’m starting to get the distinct impression that Jess is basing my life deep within the latest episode of The Vampire Diaries when I finally interject.

  “Guys! Enough! Let’s just move on, please. We have a whole night of games planned.”

  “Games?” Jess’s eyebrow disappears into her hairline. “Do you think I wasted half my allowance buying all of this,” she gestures at the expensive cheese platter and snacks she brought with her, “for us?”

  I have no idea what answer she is looking for, or whether I am supposed to take that as a compliment or an insult, so I simply shut my mouth.

  Tom shows no such compunction. “That’s not even a tenth of your allowance,” he drawls.

  “This was for Leo!” Jess continues, ignoring him. “I invested good money in your sex life, Sarah, and I expect a return on my investment!”

  Later, no one could recall exactly who had left the front door unlocked, but it hardly mattered. The point was, that at this particularly crass proclamation, Leo Russell stepped into the kitchen, his crooked smile so broad that his white teeth flashed under the low-hanging bulbs. With Jess’s decibel levels reaching new heights, no one had heard him knocking.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” Leo announces, holding out an expensive bottle of red and a crumpled packet of crisps. “And the door was open.” No one speaks. It’s one of those awkward, I-would-rather-be-anywhere-but-here silences that nobody wants to be the one to break. Leo, far from looking uncomfortable, turns to lock his blue eyes on my magenta face. “Where would I find a glass?” he asks politely.

  Ten minutes later, I emerge from the bathroom where I fled after the mortifying start to my evening, to find Leo ensconced on my two-seater sofa with Jess. Tom is hovering above them, holding a tray of cheese and hummus and looking for all the world like a maître d’. Jess and Leo fall silent as I enter the room – a bad sign in itself. Knowing Jess, I can only pray that she hasn’t offered Leo hard cash for his sexual services.

  “Are we ready to play?” I ask innocently.

  “Yes!” Jess leaps from the couch and perches herself daintily on the arm of my one-seater. “And for once, we have even numbers, so we can play teams! You and Leo can pair up, I’ll take Tom.” She pats the chair beside her, managing to sound as though she is doing Tom the hugest favour. There is no point arguing, so I settle into the spot she has just vacated. Leo is so big he takes up most of the sofa, only a few inches spared between the two of us.

  “What are we playing?” Leo asks.

  “Charades?” Jess asks the room at large.

  “What about truth or dare?” Everyone swivels to face Leo, not sure of how to respond. “What?” he shrugs. “Haven’t you ever played that?”

  “Not since I was thirteen,” T
om announces, “and Patrick Jones’s mother has never been the same after what she witnessed. I hear he’s married with a kid now, so I guess all that therapy worked out well… for mama Jones at any rate. Poor Patrick’s spending his life in denial.” He pauses thoughtfully, and then with a memorable sigh, “He had such potential, too.”

  “Oh-kay then,” Leo grins, completely unfazed by Tom’s over-share. “So, who’s going first?”

  “We are not seriously playing truth or dare?” I ask.

  “Why not?” Leo teases. “Are you scared, Sarah?”

  “Oh, hell no!” Jess announces, moving from Tom’s side to the other single-seater in the room. “Let’s do it!”

  The game starts out innocently enough. Jess dares Tom to kiss me, which he does with great flair, complete with lip-smacking noises and a great deal of moaning, while keeping his lips firmly closed against mine. When it’s done, I fake giddiness and take a huge swig of wine, emptying my glass which Jess immediately refills. I dare Jess to take off her shoes, knowing full well she hasn’t cut her toenails in weeks, but the dare backfires on me as, with no shame whatsoever, she kicks off her sneakers and the stench of smelly feet fills the room. Within minutes we’re all begging her to put the shoes back on, but she refuses until Tom is forced to waste a dare in getting her to do so.

  “Your turn,” Jess announces happily, turning to Leo. Tom scowls darkly at her, annoyed at having to relinquish his turn, but Jess is oblivious.

  “Truth or dare?” I know he’s talking to me because he’s staring intently, his eyes locked on mine.

  “Truth,” I reply immediately, too intimidated to go with a dare. My stomach is flip-flopping like a wet fish on dry sand.

  Leo grins in Machiavellian style, his teeth catching the light of the lamp beside him. Uh-oh, I think, knowing that I’m about to be embarrassed. Jess and Tom seem to have come to the same conclusion and both have leaned forward in their chairs, looking positively euphoric at the thought.

  “Sarah,” Leo says, almost purring, “do you, or do you not…” he tapers off, his blue eyes twinkling, and then he shakes his head, laughing at some private joke. When he speaks again, his voice is perfectly neutral. “Do you or do you not usually have fancy cheese platters every Friday, or is Jess just trying to impress me?” Jess and Tom both slump back in their chairs with annoyed sighs of disappointment as I release the breath I had been holding. Surprisingly, I’m disappointed that he so obviously changed his mind about the question he wanted to ask, but I do think it’s kind of cool that he chose to embarrass Jess instead of me.

  “We do not,” I reply gravely, taking a sip of wine. “In fact, none of us can actually stand the stuff. It’s your turn, Jess,” I add, grinning at her.

  “What an anti-climax,” Jess huffs, shooting daggers at Leo, who shrugs his broad shoulders. He doesn’t drink much, but I’m the only one who notices, probably because I’m hyper-aware of every move he makes.

  We continue to play, Jess and Tom doing their utmost to embarrass each other, while Leo and I simply fire meaningless, superficial questions at one another until Jess eventually calls the game to a close for ‘fear of being put to sleep’.

  “Let’s go out,” Tom suggests and I immediately set my glass down, shaking my head.

  “I’m actually going to call it a night, you guys, I have an early start.” Jess and Tom look as though I’ve just announced my intention to enter a convent. “Dylan and I are off to see the folks tomorrow,” I explain, sounding lame even to my own ears.

  “I should get home, too.” Leo gets to his feet. While he’s dusting the crumbs from his pants, Jess takes the opportunity of his distraction to cast me a look of disgust. She is still jerking her head in his direction by the time he straightens up and he watches her antics for a few seconds before she realises.

  “Tom, let’s you and I go and paint the town red,” she grins, hauling Tom off the sofa.

  “Red is so hetero,” Tom pouts, “but I’m all for streaking it scarlet.”

  “Deal,” Jess pushes him toward the front door, winking at me as they pass. “See ya!” she sings. The door slams shut a moment later and I am left alone with Leo, who is staring at the spot they have just exited from with a bemused, but startled look on his face.

  “Well,” I dust my hands together, “thank you for coming.” He doesn’t reply and I start ferrying dishes to the kitchen for want of something to do. “You don’t have to do that,” I insist a moment later as he joins me at the sink.

  “I know,” he replies evenly, going back to retrieve the virtually untouched cheese platter.

  I breathe slowly in through my nose and exhale through my mouth, fighting the hysterical urge to giggle. By the time Leo saunters back into the kitchen the hilarity of the situation has me in its clutches and I turn to face him, a huge grin on my face.

  “I’m so sorry about all of that,” I wave my hand airily in the direction of the front door, where Jess and Tom departed only moments ago. “Sometimes they get a little wild.”

  “I think they’re great,” he says, his own crooked smile making an appearance. “I think you’re all great, actually.”

  “Great being a new kind of crazy?” I ask, raising my brows.

  “No,” he chuckles, “great being great.” He pauses, glancing over his shoulder at the door and then those blue eyes find mine again. “Do you have any idea how awesome this whole dynamic is? You have pretty amazing friends, Sarah.” As he says it, I realise how true the words are. Jessica and Tom are unique and quirky, but they’re my unique and quirky and I wouldn’t change them for the world.

  “There’s never a dull moment,” I agree, “but why should there be? We only have one life, after all, we may as well make every second count.”

  I’m not sure why but my words seem to unsettle Leo. His usually open face shuts down, his lips tightening into a flat line and he raises a hand to his left temple. It’s a subconscious action, one I doubt he’s even aware of, but the movement draws my eyes again to the half-hidden scar there.

  “How did it happen?” I ask, stepping forward automatically, but Leo drops his hand and turns to the fridge, giving me the benefit of his broad back. He sets the cheese platter carefully on the second shelf, not answering the question.

  “I should get going,” he announces suddenly, and I nod, too stunned to argue.

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  We reach the front door and I pull it open. Leo’s arm brushes against mine as he moves past me in the narrow hall, the fine hairs tickling my skin. I’ve had just enough wine that I’m feeling reckless, sentimental, and more than a little horny. All thoughts of Noah and the Burke & Duke representatives have been tempered by the pinotage. Normally, I’d take the proverbial bull by the horns and lean in for a goodnight kiss, but Leo’s abrupt mood swing has me filled with uncertainty.

  “I’m glad you could make it,” I say, far too brightly, directing the words at his back as he steps out of the doorway. He turns to face me and I’m relieved to see that the crooked smile is back in place.

  “Thank you for not inviting me,” he replies teasingly, “I’m glad I came.” There’s an infinitesimal pause where I’m so certain he’s going to kiss me that I actually incline my body toward him, and then he’s gone, walking towards the elevator with his hands in his pockets and not looking back.

  CHAPTER 8

  “What do you mean he didn’t kiss you?” Jess mumbles, only half-listening. I glance at the clock in the kitchen and cringe at how early it is. Jess is probably nursing a hangover, but I wanted to ask her opinion about the non-kiss before Dylan picks me up to drive down to see our parents.

  “I mean, nothing. Not even a cheeker, or that weird, kiss-the-air-next-to-your-cheek thing that some people do.”

  “And you made it clear that you wanted to kiss him, right? I mean, sometimes you can be a bit hard to read.”

  “He knew, Jess.” I fob off the implication that this could be my fault. “And the funny thi
ng is, I had already decided that this whole thing would be too complicated and that it would be best if I just avoid him. But then he shows up here, with that hair and those eyes and…”

  “That crotch,” Jess intervenes.

  “How is it that even when you’re half-asleep you have sex on the brain?”

  “It’s a gift… Oh my God!”

  “What?”

  “What the actual fuck!”

  “Jess, what?” I yell into the phone.

  “Oh please, please tell me we didn’t do anything last night?” Jess roars, still ignoring me.

  “Have you actually lost your mind?” Tom’s deep voice is muffled, and a mental image of him buried deep under Jess’s duvet springs to my mind. “I don’t care how tight your ass is, Jess, I am G-A-Y girlfriend. Like, that’s just gross!”

  “Oh thank God!” Jess’s relief is tangible, even over the phone.

  “Um… hellooooo?” I snap. “Do you guys mind? This is kind of important!”

  “What is?” Tom sounds slightly more alert, “the fact that Jess’s first waking thought is of my penis, or the fact that she acts like we’ve never slept in the same bed before?”

  “Actually, this is all about me.”

  “Leo didn’t make a move last night,” Jess’s voice. “Hang on, I’m putting you on speaker,” she adds.

  “So what happened?” Tom asks.

  “Nothing, literally. He left just after you guys did. Not even a goodnight kiss.” My cheeks flame as I remember how I’d leaned toward him, expecting one.

  “He seemed pretty into you when we made our discreet exit,” Tom points out and I wonder if he’s taking the piss, or if he’s actually delusional enough to believe they weren’t obvious. “Maybe Jess’s direct approach scared him off?”

  “No,” I muse, actually giving this some thought.

  “Maybe the cheese disagreed with him and he had to hightail it to the visitor’s bathroom?”

  “He didn’t actually eat any of that cheese. None of us did.”