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“Leo, you know I’m right. Amelia deserves better than a quick fuck in a hotel stairwell.”
Shame burned Leo’s throat, because Marlon knew him better than anyone. How many events had he been to where he’d ended up in a stairwell, or a closet, or a hotel room? It wasn’t outside of the realm of possibilities that Leo would be looking at Amelia like she was his next conquest.
Except shewasn’t. He didn’t want to drag her to a dark corner and—
Okay. That was a lie. He definitelydidwant to drag her to a dark corner and have his way with her, but that was different. He wanted…
He didn’t know what he wanted! He wanted Amelia to eat another cinnamon bun somewhere he could hear the little noises she made. He wanted to finally make her laugh. He had an unbearable itch under his skin anytime he looked at her, and the only thing that fixed it was when she met his gaze.
There was something wrong with him.
“I’m not going to sleep with her,” he growled at Marlon.
Marlon dropped his hand from Leo’s shoulder and dipped his chin. “Good.”
“I’m not an animal.”
“Debatable.”
“Fuck off, Marlon.”
Marlon laughed, then clapped his brother on the back. “Just making sure you’ve got your head on straight.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Leo grumbled, then walked toward the dessert table—awayfrom the corner of the room where Amelia stood.
Because Marlon was right. Leo’s reputation had been well-earned, and he knew just how much he deserved a woman of Amelia’s caliber: not at all.
It didn’t matter if he was attracted to and intrigued by her. She deserved better than someone who only had his body to offer. Leo was good in bed, but he wasn’t relationship material. He’d learned that many times over.
Long tables were draped with thick white tablecloths and covered with all manner of sweet things. There were cake pops, bite-sized brownies, mini cupcakes, tiny cream puffs, little jars of creme brûlée, and a few well-presented trays of fruit. Many of the desserts had been picked over, but Leo still grabbed a plate and started wandering down the table, grabbing a few choice pieces of fruit and a center-cut brownie.
“Not an edge man, I see,” Amelia said as she sidled up beside him, plucking a corner piece of brownie for herself.
Leo should’ve walked away, but instead, he found himself turning to face her. He looked at the gooey brownie on his plate, then at her crispy corner piece. “I’m not a heathen.”
“I beg to differ,” she said. “Only uncultured swine eat the middle pieces. The edges are obviously superior both in flavor and in chew.”
“If I wanted chew, I’d have beef jerky.”
She pursed her lips, which Leo suspected was to hide a smile, then took a bite of her corner piece brownie. Bliss overtook her features for a moment, and she made one of those beautiful noises that seemed to have a direct connection to Leo’s cock.
“I really shouldn’t eat this,” she said, brushing crumbs off her fingers. “But I’m so hungry.”
“Well, you didn’t eat your dinner.”
Her gaze sharpened as she lifted it to his. “Keeping tabs on me, were you?”
“Just being a dutiful fiancé.”
Amelia’s shoulders dropped an inch. She glanced over her shoulder, then wrapped a slim hand around Leo’s wrist, just below his cuff. Her skin was warm and smooth, and he let himself be led out of the room.
This was exactly what Marlon warned against, but what was Leo supposed to do?Shewas leadinghimaway.
Okay, that was a weak excuse. He could break the hold any second and walk away—but he’d die before doing that.
Amelia stopped in an empty hallway and faced him. She dropped his wrist and crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. “We need to talk about what happened at the bakery. I’ve been thinking about it, and I really don’t think you took me seriously enough when we left. I’m not going to pretend to be your fiancée. Ever. In fact, I think it’s pretty crappy of you to put me in that position in the first place.”
Leo didn’t need another reminder of what a piece of shit he was. This was exactly why Marlon had cornered him and warned him off. Had the situation been reversed, he would’ve done the same.
