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What the hell?

And just like that, the tears start to fall.

Chapter Two

Leo

The water bottle falls off the arm of the Adirondack chair as I grab my towel and I let out a disgruntled curse. I don’t pick it up. Instead, I turn away and scowl as I dry myself roughly.

Even after twenty laps in the pool, my mood is still sour, the memory of the afternoon still fresh in my mind. More than anything, I remember the look of anguish on Jodie’s face when she realized she just had sex with the man she probably despises most in the world.

If I wasn’t equally hurt, I would have laughed. Ah, but the joke was just as much on me as it was on her.

I stop drying my arms as my hands clench into fists. My fingers clutch the ends of the towel.

I’m a fool. Thirteen years later and I still am a fucking fool. I should have known Jodie wasn’t thinking straight. Her father just died, for fuck’s sake, and she reeked of alcohol. I should have done the responsible thing and walked away.

But how could I look away from those sad eyes begging me to stay? How could I push her away when she was clutching me like she never wanted to let go? How could I not kiss her back when the warmth of her lips was all I used to long for? How could I have the strength to leave her after hearing the words I’ve always wanted to hear from her?

I thought I was over Jodie a long time ago. I haven’t seen her or spoken to her since that night I kissed her pretending to be Antonio. I haven’t completely forgotten about her, of course. Bart liked to talk about her, after all, and so I’ve been pretty much in the loop about what’s going on with her. I know she graduated at the top of her class in high school. I know she went to law school. I know they went on a trip to Greece. I know she loves cucumbers now and that she once tried to dye her hair brown only to change it back after a week. Yup, Bart just wouldn’t shut up about her.

I’ve moved on from her. I’ve been with several women since. Nothing serious because that’s too much trouble. But yeah, I’ve stopped thinking about Jodie or hoping that I’d ever have a chance to be with her.

Or so I thought. Boy, was I wrong.

The moment I saw Jodie, everything came to a standstill. I could barely breathe as I took in the sight of her in a dress that matched the dark shade of her hair, one with lace sleeves that extended to her elbows and a hem that stopped just above her knees. It hugged her slender waist and her firm breasts. A few strands of her hair were sticking out of place but she still looked beautiful. Mourning lent a soft gloss to her brown eyes that made her seem almost vulnerable, alcohol a mischievous red tint to her cheeks.

If teenage Jodie was stunning, full-grown woman Jodie is nothing short of ravishing.

I almost thought I was imagining her, but then she kissed me. The warmth of her lips melted the years away. I was sixteen again, a teen besotted with his first love, eager to impress. So I kissed her back. When her fingers scorched my skin, I was jolted back to reality for a while. A voice in my head told me things were going too fast. I was going to stop, hard as it was for me, hard as I was, but then Jodie spoke. She wanted me. She was begging for me.

I should have known then that she thought I was Antonio. A siren was going off in my head, telling me it was all too good to be true. Jodie can’t possibly want me. Surely, she hates me after what I did to her. Surely, she’s forgotten all about that kiss. She can’t have been thinking of me all this time. Still, a part of me hoped it was all true, and that part of me won. So I gave in. I gave Jodie what she was asking for. I indulged her desire and mine. And damn, was it incredible. Everything Jodie did, everything I did to her, burned me to the core and drove me to the brink of insanity. I couldn’t get enough of her, and when I was finally inside her, inside that soft, tight passage that was clenching around me and clinging to every inch of me, I lost all control. Fuck. Just the thought of it is making my cock throb in my swimming trunks.

But here’s the sobering part, the bucket of ice water – Jodie never wanted any of it. Not with me. The skeptic in my head was right, after all.

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