Very Bad Things (Briarcrest Academy #1)(87)

But, just maybe, I could release her. Forgive her for not loving me.

I’d learned that you can’t let the shame of your past affect your future. I had Leo and it was enough. Deep inside my soul, I was putting one foot in front of the other, taking each day as it came, and I knew I was moving in the direction I wanted to go, in the direction of happiness. The sun felt brighter, the birds sounded sweeter, and the world was mine. Why? Because I loved us enough to work on making myself better.

It was progress.

Chilly from the brisk evening breeze, I hurried to the gym door, a handful of wrapped packages in my hand. Today had been a successful shopping day with a pair of handmade boots for Sebastian, some music CDs for Teddy, and a book of Bob Dylan’s song lyrics for Leo.

I smiled to myself, picturing him reading to me aloud while we were in bed, something he’d taken to doing since we’d been together these past two months. I’d lie there and watch his mouth, relishing every syllable that fell from his sensuous lips.

It seemed we talked constantly to each other, whether it was mundane and silly or vital to our future. I don’t think he’s a man of many words. He says what he needs and moves on. Yet, we couldn’t get enough of conversation. I ached to hear his voice tell me about his day. I devoured his facial expressions when he told a story about something Teddy had said or done.

Aunt Portia claimed that being able to have meaningful conversations with the person you loved was a gift. She said it meant we would make it, that we would grow old together, still talking about the things we loved.

I think she’s right.

I jangled the keys as I opened the front door, hoping to get Leo’s attention. I walked into the darkened foyer and looked around, expecting to see him come running down the stairs. He didn’t. Disappointed, I went up the stairs to the loft where I’d been living.

I passed the eight-foot, live Christmas tree we’d put up over Thanksgiving. Usually I couldn’t pass it without going over and admiring all the homemade ornaments Leo’s parents had made with them when they were kids: cute pictures of them glued to snowflakes cut-outs, pictures of them smiling (or crying when they were babies) as they sat in Santa’s lap. Such a happy family. No wonder Leo missed them every day.

But I didn’t have time for gazing at ornaments now. I needed to see Leo.

Loud music blared from his closed door and I considered knocking, but I didn’t. I rushed in and bam! someone scooped me up and swung me around, making the packages cascade to the ground. I squealed in delight and wrapped my legs around his hips.

“About time you got here. Been going insane without you,” Leo said in a growly voice that sent shivers down my spine. He kissed me hard, his eager mouth searching, his tongue demanding entry. Passionately, I gave it right back to him, eating him up, returning his ferocity. Hard and fast. It was always like this with us, and I’d never get enough.

He pushed me up against the bedroom wall, pinning me there. He moaned. I moaned. Leo.

He came up for air but barely moved his mouth from mine. “Mmm, I needed that,” he murmured, closing his eyes briefly. “So damn glad you’re here early.”

I stared at him for a moment, taking it all in: the overly long blonde hair, the shadow on his hard-as-granite jaw, his pale-blue eyes that seemed to see right to the heart of me.

This man loved me.

“Miss me?” I said, giving him a swift nuzzle on his neck.

He pressed his hardness firmly against my center. “How’s that for an answer?”

“How’s it possible that two little days seemed like a million years,” I said a bit breathless, tightening my legs around him, arching closer.

“Thought I was gonna have to come to Austin and get you,” he said, his heavy-lidded eyes never leaving mine. “I don’t like sleeping without you, Buttercup. Not a bit.”

“Then let’s move to the bed,” I said with urgency. “I’m ready.”

He chuckled and gave me a quick peck. “Hold on, there’s something I want to show you first.” He set me down and stepped away from me.

“Uh, okay,” I said, sighing heavily. What could be more important than us making up for lost time?

He smirked at my surly expression, kissed the tip of my nose, and grinned like he had a secret.

“Come over by the window.” He laced our fingers together and led me over to the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over Dallas.

I let him guide me, watching how his powerful body moved across the floor in his low-slung jeans and black wife-beater. I wanted to rip that shirt off him and lick all over his dragon. I wanted to toss him on that bed and show him a few new things I’d thought of this weekend.

Because smart girls are creative.

And he wanted me to look out the window.

We reached it, and he held me tight with one arm while his other hand pointed up at the dark sky. “I know stars are important to you because your face gets all dreamy when you look out this window...and sometimes...I can’t help but wonder what you’re thinking about when you gaze up at them.”

“About you. About us,” I said, my heart full. “Stars give me hope.”

“And you’ve never given up wishing on stars. You told me so.” He paused and glanced at me sheepishly. “Honestly, you’ve inspired me a little, and well, I’ve been doing some reading up on stars myself.”