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I was barely able to breathe. “Where the hell did you come from, Leo?” I shut my eyes and exhaled. “This is so fucked-up. I want you, too. I’m just scared.”
“You’re not the only one.”
I sat up, resting my head on his shoulder. “I know I should probably head home, but I don’t want to.”
“Stay the night with me, then. We don’t have to go upstairs. We’ll stay right here and talk until we can’t keep our eyes open anymore. Just don’t leave.”
I looked up at him. “Okay. I won’t.” Nestling my body into the crook of his arm, I said, “Tell me a story.”
“What kind of story?”
“Take me to the English countryside. Virtually. Take me home with you. Tell me what it’s like. Pretend you’ve just arrived back. Tell me what happens. Describe for me what it all looks like.”
“All right.” He rested his chin on my head and wrapped me in his arms. “There are rolling green hills everywhere. It’s just finished raining, so I can see a rainbow in the distance as the driver approaches our property.”
“Tell me about your house.”
“It’s very…large, a stately home.”
“Like a castle?”
“Not quite.”
“Like Downton Abbey?”
“Like a version of that, perhaps. Made of brick.”
“What happens when you go inside?”
“When I get there, it’s neither my mother nor father who greet me, but rather Camila, our house manager.”
“What does she do exactly?”
“Oversees the staff.”
“How many people work there?”
“About ten.”
“Wow.”
“It’s a bit much, but that’s how it’s always been from generation to generation.”
“Your parents won’t greet you when you arrive?”
“If I’ve arrived during the day, Mum is probably off at some meeting with her friends. My father is likely at his office off site…if he’s feeling up to working on that particular day.”
“Okay, so it’s Camila you see first. What is she like?”
“She’s tall and can be a bit scary.” He laughed. “She keeps the house in order, though. Older…in her fifties. Blond hair tied back tightly in a bun. Very serious demeanor but manages to break a smile once in a while if I work hard enough at it. I love making her laugh because it’s not something she offers very easily.”
I smiled. “What’s the first thing you do?”
“I drop my things and head to the kitchen with Camila. She and I will have a talk about my travels. I’ll give her the abbreviated recap of our trip. I’m probably exhausted, so I’ll go to my room soon thereafter.”
“What does your room look like?”
“It’s large. A four-post bed. Dark-wood crown molding. A little depressing and cold, actually.”
“What’s the first thing you do when you get to your room?”
“I take a long, hot shower in my bathroom.”
“And after?”
“I totally crash, tired from the trip, but completely and utterly depressed to have left you. So, I go to my bed and spend the first of many evenings staring at your photo.”
Even though what he’d just said hit me deep in my heart, I made light of things by smacking his chest. “Sap.”
“Maybe.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Curling farther into his arms, I rested my head on his chest, soothed by the rise and fall of his breathing. Then Leo kissed the top of my head.
We ended up talking into the wee hours of the morning—until the sound of Sig’s voice woke us the next day.
* * *
Leo
Track 11: “Jealous Guy” by John Lennon and The Plastic Ono Band
“Well, well, well, what’s going on here?”
My cousin’s voice was grating.
“What does it look like?” I said, squinting at the sun shining in through the windows in the living room.
“To me? It looks like someone went from Hello Kitty to Hello Titty last night.”
Felicity’s eyes fluttered open.
“It’s none of your business, in any case,” I said, rubbing her shoulders. “Are you okay?”
She looked up groggily and smiled. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
I was relieved she seemed happy to still be here. We’d been talking for so long last night that we’d both shut down.
“Where are the Marias?” she asked Sig.
“They’re coming downstairs. I was going to make breakfast. Are you two hungry?”
I didn’t think she’d want to be around Sigmund’s harem, so it surprised me when she said, “Yeah. Breakfast sounds great.”
Felicity stood from the couch, looking adorable with her hair all messed up from sleep. While I’d often fantasized about lying next to her at night, I hadn’t anticipated that our first sleepover would be on the sofa. It wasn’t the most comfortable night’s rest, but I’d do it every night if it meant she’d stay again.
After Sig disappeared into the kitchen, I placed my hand on her cheek. “How did you sleep?”
“Surprisingly good. When I woke up, it took me a second to realize where I was.” She squinted. “What?”
“I want to kiss you,” I admitted.
“Kiss me, then.”
Just when I’d readied myself to plant one on her, we were interrupted by the sound of Sigmund’s girls skipping down the stairs.
