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My phone.
My first thought was to ignore it, but suddenly, Leo slipped it out of my back pocket. Before I could protest, he’d answered the call, pressing the phone up against his ear as he stepped away from me.
“Yo,” he said, just as I tried to yank the thing away from him.
“Leo!” I hissed, trying to refrain myself from kneeing him in the balls. “What the fuck? That could be my mom, or something.”
He pulled away farther from me, my shirt falling back into place as he spun around and stuck his free hand into his back pocket. He wandered around the roof, putting on an air of sarcastic confidence, as if he’d just called up some hypothetical executive, or an ex-wife.
“Uh-huh. Yup. Nope. Sure. When? Now? Hold on,” he said, and looked back at me. “It’s Elliot.”
I strutted toward him, holding out my hand.
“Hand it back to me,” I said, “before I slap you.”
He raised the phone back to his lips.
“She said she’sgonnaslap me,” he said, raising his eyebrows at the stupidly sexual innuendo. I’d given up. A series of muffled curses came from the phone, and Leo held it out toward me. “I think he’s mad.”
I snatched the phone from him and put it to my ear.
“Hey.”
“Where are you?” Elliot said from the other end, sounding like he was talking through a tight jaw. “Why are you with him?”
I glanced back at Leo. He simply zipped up his pants as innocently as could be done. He knew the fun was over. I turned my back to him.
“When you said I have to do whatever you guys want,” I said slowly, lowering my voice, “I assumed that applied to, well, allthreeof you.”
“It does,” he ground out.
“So?”
I could hear him let out a hard breath, and then, “You were supposed to meet me thirty minutes ago.”
My first instinct was to roll my eyes and hang up on him, but I lowered the phone from my face and checked the time. He was right. It was way past ten—more than thirty minutes.
“Just come,” he said, and the line went dead.
I let out a sigh and slipped my phone back into my pocket. Turning back to face Leo, I was met with his goofy grin.
“He’s jealous,” he said. “Greedy bastard.”
“I doubt it,” I muttered, turning back to the fire escape. If anything, he was sexually frustrated and I was his easy way out.
I made my way back over to the fire escape. Before crouching over the ladder and lowering my foot down, I glanced back at Leo, my gaze snaking up his tanned calves and resting on his white T-shirt. Didn’t even get to feel what was beneath it. Shame.
If anything,Iwas frustrated that we had to be interrupted. I wasn’t lying when I said that I wanted to call the shots.
I’d wanted this.
I’d wanted him.
Maybe it was just for the thrill of it. Some superficial reason, something primal, something to do with my inferiority complex. I didn’t care. The second I was about to get what I wanted, Elliot had found some way to interfere.
So be it.
If I was to survive this, I’d have to roll with the punches.
