Page 54 of Read With Your Heart

I promise you are not a rebound but a rebirth of my spirit.

I promise I’ll never hurt you if you hand me your heart.

I promise I’ll cherish your love if you let me in.

If he doesn’t want more than what we are right now, I can’t force anything. I can’t make him feel something deeper for me. I’m not that out of touch that I don’t know that some things are just casual. Friends with benefits. Roommates with benefits. The idea tastes bitter, but I don’t reveal my feelings to him. Opting to keep things light, I respond in kindness.

“Shirts and skin,” I tease without humor. Fun and games. Guess that’s all this is to him, which is too bad for me. I don’t want to play any more games when it comes to relationships.

Lesson 19

Commitment is more than a four-letter word.

[Tricia]

Despite what Leon said, I fall for him, heart and soul. And my traitorous body? Well, it just tumbles over and over again. Leon and I spend every night in my bed, exploring each other but not completing the deed. His touch is unlike any I’ve ever known. While he’s tender, he tortures, teasing out my pleasure repeatedly. I’ve never been so sexually satisfied, but it’s more than a fulfilling sensation. I’m happy in a way I didn’t think I’d ever be. Maybe roommates with benefits wasn’t a terrible thing. We don’t discuss the future. We just live in the moment, and for once, that moment isn’t filled with fear of saying the wrong word or responding the wrong way. Leon lets me be free to be me.

Outside of bed, we fall into other routines. Work. School. Dinners with his sisters. When I read at night, Leon usually re-reads his favorite Shakespeare, but some nights, he draws in a sketchbook. I try to subtly lean over and sneak a glance in the book, but he always positions himself away from me or snaps it shut to keep me out.

“You’re a curious kitty,” he teases one night.

“I just want to know what you’re working on.” His face grows intense as he concentrates, and I want to see what keeps him so focused. “I’m not curious. I’m interested. I’m interested in all you do.”

The comment stops his fingers mid-drawing, and his eyes lift from the page to me.

“What do you mean?” he asks, still holding the pencil poised on the paper.

“I just want to know what you want. What do you see as your future? What are your dreams?”

He continues to stare at me as though the question is unclear, and therefore, there are no answers. He closes the book and I expect him to shut me out. While we’re shirts and skins in the sheets, we aren’t going deep.

“You know how I work at Dixon’s . . .” he reminds me. “I’m a graphic artist. Not by trade or anything. I used to tag. Spray painting buildings.” He pauses to let that sink in. From what I know of it, I imagine him dangling off a building.

“Almost falling off an overpass bridge and seeing your young life flash before you will end that behavior. But I didn’t drop the art.” He shrugs. “I was given a sketchbook somewhere along the way, and I tagged on paper instead. I shrunk my medium from the side of a structure to a piece of paper.”

“You could have died,” I quietly blurt, not liking to consider the risks this man has faced. He has a large tattoo on his back with an excessive scar over it, but we haven’t discussed it. “I don’t like to think about you in danger.”

Leon tosses the book to my nightstand and shifts to face me. “I’m not in danger anymore.” His hand comes up to cup my jaw.

“I don’t want anything to ever happen to you.” My fear is partially from my own fears. I don’t want Trent to redirect his anger at Leon. Not that Leon can’t hold his own, but I don’t want to bring that kind of drama to Leon. He’s had enough in his lifetime. I want him to feel safe with me.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” he tries to assure me. “What’s going on in that head, pretty lady?”

Am I enough for you? I don’t ask the question. “I don’t want Trent to get to you.”

Leon scans my face. “Baby, he’s not going to get to me. You let me worry about Trent.”

Trent still hasn’t signed the divorce papers, and as far as I know, he has no attorney. My lawyer is taking the next steps, citing Trent’s lack of cooperation.

“So you asked about my dreams,” Leon says, redirecting our conversation. “I’d like to get to where Dixon will hire me to do custom paint jobs.”

Trent is forgotten. “Leon, that’s amazing,” I say, my voice growing higher with my enthusiasm. “Have you spoken to him?”

Leon shakes his head. “Not yet. I want more time to prove myself. I want him to see I’m a hard worker before I spring on him what I really want.”

“Did you know Tom is good friends with Dixon?” He and my eldest brother are longtime friends.

“Jess mentioned it, but I want to do this on my own.” His expression softens, and I read him. I know all about wanting to do something on your own. Something just for you. This house was my plan, only now I’m sharing it with Leon and his sisters. I don’t begrudge them. I’m happy he’s here, but we still haven’t tackled a single house project yet.