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The lights were off when we entered. As soon as I flicked them on, I watched him survey the place. Not in a way which said he was curious about me, but in a way someone would who was searching for security breaches.
“It’s perfectly safe,” I provided, preempting his assessment.
“Nowhere is perfectly safe. You need a bar on your sliding door to keep it from opening. Rods on your bedroom windows too if you don’t have them.”
I sighed. “I’ll take it into consideration.”
“I’ll have Craig take measurements and get them for you in a few days. Is this your stuff?”
Surveying the beautiful cream-colored sofa, colorful rug, pillows, and a mirror on the far wall, I envied how effortlessly my cousin could pull a room together. “No, my cousin already had it furnished when I moved in.”
He set the bag on the counter. “I need a pan to sear the meat. I hope you like—”
He was cut off by a loud moan coming from the bedroom. “What the fuck was that?”
Followed by the unmistakable sound of the bed creaking and the headboard hitting the wall. I knew that sound all too well, unfortunately. “Malorie and Craig must’ve skipped dinner. Spoiler alert, it’s about to get worse.”
As if on cue, Craig’s voice cried out, “Yeah baby, you’re close.”
Leo’s brows shot up. “You have to listen to this every night?”
“For the last week it’s been my evening soundtrack.” Thankfully, I had noise-cancelling headphones. “Turns out your friend has some stamina.”
Leo’s face scrunched up in such horror I nearly doubled over laughing, nearly peeing my pants trying to keep quiet so they wouldn’t become aware they had an audience.
“Come on. We’re leaving,” Leo announced.
“What? To go where?”
“My place.”
ChapterFourteen
LEO
Taking Addison to my place was a terrible idea. I could hardly keep my attraction for her in check as it was. Now I was taking her to my house? Glancing over as I drove, I could see no indication on her face she was reading anything into the invitation. I was a guy trying to salvage the night for a girl who I—
Shit. Didn’t matter how I ended that sentence. Because I could’ve simply walked her to her car, or left her with the dinner I’d bought. Instead I was ensuring she’d have it with me. Spend time with me. When I was obviously nothing like her type. All I had to do was recall her date tonight for confirmation.
“Did you actually like that guy? Before everything happened?”
She appeared taken off guard by my question but then exhaled. “No. There was something insincere about him.”
“But you intended to finish the date?”
“Believe it or not, it was going better than either of my last two.”
“What happened on those dates?” It was the second time she’d referenced them going badly.
“You don’t want to know.”
I really did. “Humor me.”
She let out a long breath. “Fine. I went to a matchmaker when I first moved here. Figured it would be better to have someone set me up based on profiles submitted rather than try to find people online by myself.”
All of which meant she was fully committed to finding a relationship. It was disappointing even if it wasn’t surprising. “And?”
“And, the first date was with a guy named Phil. It went fine, but when we were walking from dinner at the Venetian by the canal with the boats, I tripped, and when he went to go balance me, he lost his and went into the water.”
