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I shove those thoughts away and stand up.
“You still did me a solid,” I tell him. “Which means I owe you one. And I don’t like owing people one, so name your price.”
He gives me a puzzled look. “Are you saying you’ll do whatever I ask?”
“Not whatever,” I answer as I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Nothing illegal or dangerous. But yeah, ask.”
“Hmm.” He touches his chin as he delves into his thoughts.
I can see the wheels in his head turning. Then he grins. I swallow.
Oh God, please don’t make me regret this.
Chapter Six
Leo
“I should have known you’d try to punish me,” Jodie complains as she leans on her makeshift trekking pole.
She does look like she’s been through hell. More strands of hair are sticking out from underneath her white baseball cap now than when we started hiking. Her cheeks are flushed. The neckline of her shirt is drenched in sweat. Her jeans, which were ripped to begin with, now look even more tattered. Her blue sneakers are covered in dirt. And she has a scratch more than an inch long across the back of her right hand, probably from a shrub.
She still looks hot to me.
Jodie’s eyes narrow beneath her cap. “What are you staring at?”
“Nothing.” I wipe the sweat off my forehead. “And I’m not punishing you. You wanted me to cash in a favor, so I did.”
She shakes her head. “This is so much harder than acting or playing tennis.”
I shrug. “It’s not my fault you’re not physically fit.”
Jodie puts her hand on her hip. “Are you saying I’m fat? Just because you’re all muscly now…”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I shut off the rest of her complaint. Why is it that women are so sensitive about this stuff?
“I never said you were fat,” I tell her. “I’m saying you’re out of condition. That’s why you were panting so much during that tennis match, too.”
“Oh. So you’re trying to whip me into shape? Is that it? Is that what all this is about?”
I sigh. “I already told you what this is. I’m taking you somewhere.”
“Where? A campsite? A waterfall? A crime scene? A gateway to another world?”
I chuckle. “Your imagination is as creative as ever.”
“Where?” Jodie demands.
Damn, she’s persistent. And here I thought she’d talk less because she was tired.
“It’s a surprise,” I tell her again.
“Well, it better be a good one, like some kind of spa where I can soak my feet and have someone get rid of the knots in my back.” She touches her back.
I grin. “Actually, it’s a log cabin with a big bed where we can have sex all day and no one will ever find out.”
I’m just teasing Jodie, of course, just to stop her whining, and yet she falls abruptly silent, her gaze on the ground. Her cheeks turn even redder than before.
She doesn’t think I’m serious, does she? Or wait. Does she want me to be serious? Does she actually want us to have sex again? I wouldn’t mind, of course, but only if Jodie’s completely sure she wants it, and not because she’s drunk or using me to make some fantasy with Antonio come true. And definitely not because she feels she owes it to me.
“I’m just kidding,” I say. “I’m not that heartless.”
Jodie meets my gaze.
“It’s a boot camp, actually. With a whole obstacle course set up with tires and mud and everything.”
Her eyes narrow. “I hate you.”
Words I’ve heard before, but this time with no real malice behind them. I laugh.
“Save your strength for the next quarter mile,” I tell her. “We’re almost there, and I promise it’s worth it.”
~
“Well?” I ask Jodie as soon as we reach our destination.
She removes her cap and takes in the sight of the buildings, the field and the lake from the top of the hill.
“What is this place?”
“Not a spa, for sure,” I answer. “It used to be the summer camp Antonio and I attended when we were in middle school. I think it was right after you moved away. It closed down a few years ago and I decided to buy it, make it a refuge for kids who feel like the world has given up on them.”
I know exactly how that feels. After my mother died, I felt like I had lost everyone. I lost my way. I ran away from home and I slept on the streets. I met other people my age, some younger, who were into drugs, who stole on a regular basis, who sold their bodies. Some of them had already been in and out of jail a few times. None of them chose that life. Most of them were runaways, whether from their own homes or foster homes. They had no families. They had no one. They did what they could to survive.
