Girl Code (20 page)

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Authors: LD Davis

BOOK: Girl Code
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As for Mayson’s thoughts on Leo, she didn’t understand. As far as I knew, she had never had a serious relationship with a guy—well, besides the one she was with when she was a teenager, but he was an abusive drug addict, and I don’t think he counts. In addition, Mayson’s only female friends are Emmy, Donya, and myself. I was pretty sure that, like me, Emmy wouldn’t consider dating someone that Mayson had had a serious relationship with, and Donya, she didn’t need anyone’s leftovers. She was a world-class supermodel—like a
Vogue
, runway supermodel—no shit!—and married to one of the hottest guys in Major League Baseball. Some girls have all the luck.

Leo strolled in around seven that night. I was outside by the pool, tapping away, totally in my zone. He had the sense not to speak to me when he stepped outside, but he did kiss the top of my head before heading back inside. I was able to focus on the story, but I smiled when he kissed me, and my body warmed pleasantly.

As much as I wanted to continue writing, I saved my work and shut my laptop down after a few minutes. Through text messages earlier in the day, Leo and I agreed to go out to dinner that night. That was the whole reason I was staying in Miami, was to spend some time with Leo and experience the city and its surrounding areas, and I wasn’t going to do that from the backyard.

He looked surprised to see me when I stepped inside, toting my computer. He had showered and changed and was sitting at the kitchen island with a beer and his phone in front of him.

“Did I disturb you?” he asked with concern as he spun the stool around.

“No.” I waved a hand. “I didn’t want to make you wait for me.”

“No, Tabs,” he said, reaching out and pulling on my wrist to bring me closer. “You didn’t have to stop. We could have went out whenever you were really ready to stop.”

His hand traveled up my arm, over my shoulder and then slid down to the small of my back as he pulled me between his knees. Even like this, we fit well, I noticed.

“You could have waited all night if that were the case,” I said seriously. “Once I get into a zone, I can write all day and all night. Sometimes I don’t even remember to eat and then I can’t figure out why I have a headache and why my stomach hurts at two in the morning.”

“I would have waited until forever,” Leo said, dropping his other hand on my hip. “I don’t have your creative brain, but I think I understand that the creative juices are unpredictable. I remember you used to always jot down little bits of dialogue at odd times when we were kids. You have to roll with it when it comes, I understand.”

I felt real relief hearing him say that. Xander didn’t always get it. A lot of people don’t get it. Writing isn’t a nine-to-five job. It’s an all of the time job. I didn’t know how some of my author friends with families actually functioned. I give them endless credit for being able to write a good book and take care of their families.

“Well, I’m done for now,” I said and tried to step away, but Leo held fast to me. “Personal space, Pesciano,” I reminded him.

He shrugged and smiled lazily. “No, thank you.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Where are we going for dinner?”

“Before we discuss dinner, I wanted to ask you for a favor,” he said. He sounded rather serious. I stood up straighter.

“What?”

“My good friend Wess is getting married in a little less than two weeks. I’m part of the wedding party, but I can’t go without a date. What would my friends think of me?” he asked with an exaggerated pained expression.

“They’ll think you’re the loser you truly are,” I said as if it should have been obvious.

“Is that a yes?” Leo asked with a big smile.

“You didn’t ask me a question,” I stated with mild exasperation.

“I know. You totally get me.”

I sighed. “What’s for dinner, Pesciano?”

“There is a nice seafood restaurant on the bay. How does that sound?” he asked, rubbing small circles on my back.

I looked down at the “Shut up and Read!” T-shirt I was wearing. “Do I need to go back to the hotel to change?”

“No, you don’t have to change out of your nerdy shirt,” Leo said with a soft laugh. “But if you did, it would have been easier if all of your things were here already.”

I frowned. “I’m not staying here.”

“It’s ridiculous to pay for a hotel room you don’t sleep in.”

“I do sleep in it,” I argued.

“You slept here the past two nights. How many more mornings will you wake up in one of my beds before you concede?” His grin was smug. I wanted to slap it off of his face.

“Zero,” I answered pointedly. “Because I won’t be sleeping here again.”

I pushed on his chest as I untangled myself from him.

“You are cute when you are in denial,” Leo said as I put my laptop in my bag.

“So are you,” I countered, scrunching up my nose with sarcasm. I held up my car keys. “I will drive my own car and meet you there, because after dinner I will be driving back to my hotel.”

“I hope you have your key,” he said as he opened the door for me.

“I do.” I stepped past him and he locked and closed the door.

“Good,” he said, wrapping an arm around my neck as we walked to our cars. “Because in the middle of the night when you realize you can’t sleep without my body against yours, you’ll be able to let yourself into the house.”

“Are you going to be this much of a pain in the ass for the next couple of weeks?” I asked dryly.

“Yup,” he said and kissed my temple.

“It is going to be a very long couple of weeks.”

 

 

 

“Is Girl Code that ideal code of behavior between BFFs, which should prevent any of the girls to lay their eyes on the other’s ex-boyfriend? HAHAHA”

 

~Gabri C., Padova, Italy~

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

“I don’t like boats,” I said, standing on the dock beside Leo’s boat. I don’t know what kind of boat it was, just that it was big.

“I specifically remember you riding in a boat at the shore when we were kids.”

“Then you’ve specifically forgotten the part where I feared for my life and tossed cookies over the side.”

“Okay, I did forget that,” he admitted. “But that was a long time ago. Maybe your disposition has changed.” He climbed aboard and held out his hand. “Come on. I’ll take care of you. I promise nothing bad will happen to you.”

I looked at his hand and then looked up into his face. His eyes burned into mine and he looked so confident. I trusted him to take care of me as he promised. I took his hand.

I followed Leo around as he helped his two crew members get the boat ready to go. I don’t know anything about boats. I don’t know the stern from the whatever. I’m not quite sure what a nautical mile is compared to an ordinary mile. He was speaking in terms that were foreign to me.

“I don’t really have any idea what you’re saying,” I said after a while.

He chuckled and kissed me quickly and chastely on the lips. “It’s okay. You’ll have fun anyway.”

We left a little while later. I was terrified, but my stomach didn’t heave. I stood next to Leo as he navigated us out to sea. When we got as far out as he wanted, we went down to the deck to have brunch and chill out.

“This isn’t so bad, right?” Leo asked, passing me a wine cooler.

“It’s actually quite nice.” I smiled.

“I’m glad. I guess I can’t convince you to go water skiing.”

“Don’t push it, Pesciano.”

He grinned mischievously in return. I so didn’t trust that grin.

I’d have to be on my guard with him today.

It had been a week since my arrival in Miami. I saw Leo every day. I worked when he worked or had other business to tend to. I always worked in his house, because something about the beautiful view from his place always got my creativity flowing for that particular project I was working on. If Leo came back while I was still working, he left me alone until I was ready to stop and he never seemed to be bothered by it, no matter how long it took me.

When we weren’t working, we were together, exploring the city, sightseeing, shopping, and relaxing on the beach. We talked all of the time, like we each had a word quota to meet at the end of the day or we’d explode if we didn’t. We chatted about our high school years, about the restaurant and his trials and tribulations when he first opened. We talked about all of the signings I would be doing that year and the other authors I loved and hated. Sometimes we talked about the more serious stuff, like my brother and Mayson’s road to sobriety, and other times our conversations were altogether nonsensical and funny. There were two things we never spoke about though: our controversial past and Leslie.

Leo touched me. A lot. He held my hand when we went anywhere together. If he wasn’t holding my hand, he had an arm around my neck or waist. When we sat on the couch, he liked to sit right next to me, thigh to thigh and his arm draped over my shoulders. Sometimes, he would sit a little further away, but pull my legs into his lap and caress my bare legs while we watched whatever was on the television or chatted. Often, Leo would absently rub the small of my back, or not so absently graze his knuckles over my cheek. He occasionally quickly pressed his lips to mine, and frequently kissed my hair, my cheek, or forehead, but he didn’t try to
kiss me
kiss me. Sometimes he looked at me like he wanted to, and sometimes I think I wanted him to, but he always refrained. Regardless of how he touched me, the electric vibe between us was strong and growing, crackling and zapping with every touch.

I slept over again, too, more than once, sparking up controversy about paying for a hotel room. Of course, we always ended up in the same bed together, tangled and cuddled. Leo insisted on me moving in with him for the duration of my stay, and I argued over the weirdness of it despite the fact that I spent more time in his house than I did the hotel. The argument came up again on his boat after we ate. He was fishing and I was watching. I didn’t know a thing about fishing. I only knew how to eat fish, and I really love
Finding Nemo
. Don’t like
Jaws
.

“So, when we get back to shore later, you’re going to move in with me for a while, right?” he asked casually.

“No,” I answered in a bored tone.

“You’re paying for a room you don’t even stay in!”

“It’s my money,” I argued.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to be wasteful with it. What are you afraid of?” He looked over at me, daring for me to say anything.

“I’m afraid my old best friend will take it very personally if I move in with her ex-boyfriend, even on a temporary and platonic basis.”

“Who said it was platonic?” he scoffed.

“Leo,” I said in warning.

“Okay, I won’t go there,” he said with a serious undertone. “Not now anyway, but for the record...” He moved in very close to me, his lips millimeters from mine. “You don’t have to live with me for me to make you fall in love with me.”

A wicked smile appeared on his lips and he pulled back. I let out a sharp breath.

“You’re terrible,” I scolded.

“But you keep coming back,” he teased. “Anyway, you should consider moving in—on a temporary and possibly platonic basis.”

“I’ll sleep in my room tonight, and for the rest of my stay. Argument over.”

“It’s not over, but I’ll let it go. Want to hold my pole?” He gestured lewdly with the fishing pole.

A few hours later while Leo played with his jet ski, I lounged on the deck with the latest copy of
Vogue
, looking at clothes I’d never fit in. I found Donya’s face halfway through the magazine. If she were a mean bitch, it would be easy to hate her for her beauty, but she was actually cool and grounded. Even though I didn’t talk to Emmy, I did talk to her best friend. Donya didn’t live too far from my apartment in New Jersey, and I did have lunch with her and Mayson on occasion.

I continued flipping through the magazine, but more often than not, I would find myself surreptitiously peeking over my magazine at Leo. He wore a life jacket, at my unyielding insistence, and of course, his swim trunks, but he was bare-chested under the jacket. I felt my mouth watering a few times and would force my eyes back to
Vogue
, but it didn’t take long for them to stray again.

Women fell over themselves to get a better look at this man’s perfect body and kissable lips and bedroom eyes. Every time we were on the beach, the poor grown drooling women eyed his bare chest and powerful legs openly, as if he had been put there just for their viewing pleasure. They probably itched to touch him, and there he was, looking all sporty and wet and hot and I couldn’t keep my focus on anything else.

“Hey,” he said a while later after he had put away his toy. He was standing in front of me, still wet, still shirtless, and the life jacket was gone..

He wasn’t really a hairy guy, though I suspected he shaved his chest. The only hair on his torso started just under his belly button and trailed down, down, down, below the piece of cloth covering him. And it was barely covering him. His swimming trunks hung so low that with one mishap, he could spring free. The thought of this entranced me for a moment, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of that beautiful V area until Leo cleared his throat.

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