He Belongs With Me (8 page)

“Hey Clara, it's Leo. What's up?” His voice sounded funny on the other side—tired, maybe.

“Not much.”

“I just wanted to call to make sure you were okay. You're okay, right?”

“I'm fine.” I don't know why I was being so short with him, but I was.

“Well, if you need anything, call or text me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

We both hung up after that. And then I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I called him right back. “Leo,” I said, getting right to the point before I could change my mind. “I'm in Brooklyn at this place called the Alligator Lounge. Steph works here and I'm just hanging out while she works. I know you said you were going to be busy and I'm sure Brooklyn is hardly your style, but if you're bored and want to...”

“Are you trying to invite me to come hang out?” he asked, his voice going crazy-low.

“Yes,” I whispered back, “I guess I am.”

Several long heartbeats thumped by while I waited for him to answer. Leo and I sure as hell had never 'hung out' before. “Okay then,” he said, though he sounded incredibly undecided. “I'll be there in an hour or so.” After those words, the line went dead.

“Bartender,” I yelled with my next breath of air. “I'd like a double shot of tequila. Straight up.”

The stereotypical bartender—a decent-looking guy with tattoo sleeves and a cute smile—stopped wiping out a glass and came right over to pour me a double shot. He then watched intently as I swallowed down the burning liquid. A shiver ran down my back as I felt the alcohol warm my chest. As I set down my empty glass, licking my lips, I noticed him still staring. Ordering two beers hadn't gotten a reaction out of him but tequila had.

“Want another?”

“Do I look like I should have another? I barely weigh a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. Another would send me to the hospital.”

He laughed. “Okay, let me know if I can get you anything else.”

Even with a decent buzz, the next hour was the longest of my life. The bar grew busy and Steph couldn't keep me company anymore. The bartender and I exchanged a few more polite words, but mostly I sat alone, lost in my thoughts and battling the nervousness that had started breeding like bunnies in my stomach. What the hell was I going to say to Leo when he walked through that door? And why the hell had I even invited him here in the first place?

The hour and a half mark came and went, and still no Leo. I got up to use the bathroom and when I came back, some jackass had taken my seat. The bartender and I had a little connection going, so it surprised me that he'd let some random person take it. I tapped the seat-snatcher on the shoulder, ready to give him a piece of my mind. Except the person sitting in my seat was Leo.

“Oh, there you are,” he said as he turned to face me.

With him sitting and me standing, we were exactly eye level. He looked nothing like his usual preppy self, which was why I hadn't realized it was him initially. His black hair had no product in it, giving it an unkempt, wild look, and his clothes were uncharacteristically casual—jeans and a black t-shirt. No stranger would ever guess that his bank account had nine zeros attached to the end of it. The black shirt gave his pale eyes a noticeably dramatic effect and I couldn't stop staring at him. A magnetic moment passed between us. I’d never been one to believe in love at first sight, or electric sparks, or any kind of destiny bullshit, but I couldn't deny that when my eyes connected with Leo's…it felt like I was looking at him for the very first time.

My bartender friend came up, rapping his knuckles against the top of the bar, stealing Leo's attention away from me. “What did I tell you, dude? That seat's taken.”

Leo’s demeanor changed in an instant and he glared at the guy. “It looks unoccupied to me. Why don't you do your job, stop bugging me about my seat, and get me the drink I ordered….do I have to ask you twice?” And just like that, Leo was back to being his oh-so-charming self. The guy should come with a warning label, saying, ‘Caution, will bite.’

The bartender leaned over the counter, matching Leo's animosity with equal intensity. “If you don't lose the attitude and stop harassing the other customers, then I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I'm not harassing anyone.”

“The pretty girl standing right next to you? That's her seat you're sitting in. Move now or I'm going to come over there and move your ass for you.”

Leo left the seat in an instant, but I knew it wasn’t because the guy threatened him. “I didn't mean to steal your seat,” he said in one breath, his words hot against my hair as he moved past me.

Rolling my eyes, I sat down. Not because I wanted to, but because everyone was making such a big-damn deal over a stupid seat. “Do you have to pick a fight every night of the week?”

Looking down at me now, his face softened almost into a smile. “No, Sunday's are my day off.”

The bartender lingered. “Oh, you're here with her? Sorry, man. I just never would have put the two of you together.”

“What that hell is that supposed to mean?” Leo asked, immediately back to being defensive.

“Looks can be deceiving,” I said. My words were meant for the bartender, but I didn't take my eyes off Leo as I said them. I'm not sure if I meant him or me or both of us, but I held onto his gaze until he stopped acting like a dick and calmed down. The bartender left us alone after that, but I didn't want to chance Leo getting into it with him again. “I saw some empty tables in the back. Come with me.”

Without protest, Leo followed me. The deeper into the bar we went, the dimmer the lights were and the louder the music played. We entered into a semi-empty room with a pool table and a decidedly more intimate feel. The air conditioning was on full blast and I was happy I'd worn my new leather jacket. I sat in the first open seat I saw and Leo sat across from me, the table keeping us a safe distance apart.

“So.” He reached out, fingering a strand of my hair for a moment before letting it fall back into place. “Purple…interesting.”

“Fine, let's hear it,” I said. Crossing my arms over my chest, I prepared for his worst. “Whatever carefully constructed cut-down you have for me, just say it now and get it over with.”

“I don't have anything to say. Not this time.”

I let my arms unfold. “Well, that's a first.”

Steph came up to us with a tray full of drinks. I was wondering how long it would take her to notice that Leo was here with me. The two had never been officially introduced so I said, “Leo, this is Stephany. Steph, Leonardo Mad—”

“Leonardo is my grandfather's name. Nobody calls me Leonardo,” he said, cutting me off. “Besides, I've already met Stephany….twice. Once, freshman year. And she came with you to the Masters Tournament, April before last. Your memory worries me, Clara.”

“No, you didn't even go with us to the Masters that year.” Thinking back on it, I vaguely remembered seeing Leo there. Had I introduced them? Was he keeping track of the number of times he met Steph or was he keeping tabs on me? “Okay, maybe you were at the Masters. But when did you meet freshman year?”

“We ran into each other at an apartment party in The Village. You must remember. I certainly couldn’t forget the time I nearly fell to my death.”

I remembered now.

I was out with Steph and a few other girls from my dorm at some random party in an apartment complex in Blacksburg. The party was pretty average—dancing, drinking, jam packed, seconds away from getting a noise violation from the cops. Exhausted and sweaty from too much grinding with random dudes, Steph and I stepped outside to cool off, only to run into Leo.

The first-level apartment had a small balcony and there he was sitting on the railing. Alone. The muffled sound of music still beat in my ears as I watched him suck a long, slow drag out of a cigarette. Then he held the smoke in his lungs for several heartbeats before blowing it out into the cold air.

Gross. I couldn't hold back from sharing my hatred for his habit. “That's crazy-disgusting even for you, Leo. I'm sure you can think of more creative ways to kill yourself!”

“Clara?” he asked, his glassy eyes moving from the night sky to me. Probably never expecting me of all people to sneak up on him, Leo’s cigarette fumbled in his hand and then fell into his lap. “Shit,” he cursed. His balance faltered and he fell backward off the railing onto the cement below. It must have hurt like a bitch. Luckily for Leo, he had a very hard head and it wasn't that far from the balcony to the ground. Still, I had to make sure he didn't have a concussion from the fall, so Steph and I waited with him for thirty minutes after that. I'd been insistent despite Leo telling me we didn't have to wait.

Eerily enough, that night reminded me of last night and I had a feeling the similarities probably weren't lost on Leo either. “I have no clue what you're talking about,” I said, playing ignorant. “I went to lots of parties in The Village freshman year—they’re all a blur.”

Leo's eyes widened and an unexpected smile spread across his lips. “Don't lie, I know you remember. But this does make for an odd coincidence. I've now had two near-death experiences because of you. Do I need to watch my back around you, killer, or am I just that accident prone?”

I couldn't help myself from smiling back at him. Leo’s smiles were too rare and contagious to resist. “You're probably just an alcoholic.”

“Or maybe I'm going to have look into hiring a bodyguard.” Then his attention shifted to Steph for a moment. “Anyway, nice to officially meet you, Stephany.”

She smiled. “You too. I've got to go deliver these drinks. Want me to bring you guys back anything?”

We both ordered a drink and then as Steph started to walk away—when Leo could no longer see because his back was to her—her jaw dropped open and she mouthed
hot
. I pretended like I hadn't seen her do that.

“I haven't had a cigarette since that night,” Leo said, growing more serious now. “I have a little scar from where I burned myself in the process of falling on my face.” He turned his right hand over, exposing the underside of his wrist. Sure enough, there was a tiny white scar on his skin and the tendons in his arm flexed as he traced the spot with his thumb. Without thinking, I reached over and gently swept my fingers over the same area. I realized what I was doing a moment too late and quickly pulled away. Leo's eyes left his wrist and leapt to mine. “Every time I get the urge to smoke—which is all the time—I look down at that scar and think of that night. And of you. I wish all my vices could be helped so easily.”

“And until the bruise on your leg heals, maybe you can look down at it and be reminded that you shouldn't walk through a golf course at night while you’re drunk. You never know when a crazy girl on a golf cart might hit you.”

“I'm kind of glad some crazy girl hit me. I wouldn't be with her now if she hadn't.”

Steph returned right then to drop off our drinks. Thankful for the distraction, I picked up my beer and took a much-needed gulp. Across from me, Leo did the same. Steph watched us carefully and then walked away.

When Leo took a break from being a jackass, he could be rather sincere and even charming. And his honesty, though harsh at times, was something I found I craved. Maybe I'd always known these things about him, but I was seeing them—and him—very differently tonight.

Then a very stunning and terrifying realization hit me like a punch to the gut. Somewhere between yesterday and today, I'd developed feelings for Leo Maddox. I couldn't see it earlier, but I couldn’t deny it now.

Feelings
and
Leo
were two words that should never be used in the same sentence.

But as I sat there in a random bar in Brooklyn, a couple hundred miles away from home and reality, watching him take a long sip of his beer, I had the overwhelming urge to kiss him—and I despised him for it. This couldn't be happening to me. Leo was annoying and rude and the source of many tears growing up. What a cruel twist of fate that I suddenly found myself wanting him?

He noticed the change in me instantly. “What is it? Clara? Are you okay?”

Every square inch of my skin started to buzz with a mixture of fear, hatred, and maybe something that felt a little like desire. The background noise faded and suddenly we were the only two people in the room. “Why did you come here tonight?” I demanded. “We're not friends. You hate me.”

He set down his beer, staring at the little bubbles that floated peacefully to the liquid's surface, and took his time answering. “If I hated you, I wouldn't be here now.”

“So why are you?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

I rested my elbows on the table and leaned closer toward him. “You used that line on me last night. It won't work for you a second time. Tell me, Leo, right now. Why are you here?”

His blue eyes lifted to meet mine, shining with a buttload of something resembling anger or possibly even fear. Whatever emotion, it wasn't one I'd ever seen on Leo before and it scared the hell out of me. “Why do you think I'm here? Why do you think I invited you to New York? Why do you think I almost got into a fight with Andrew ‘Fuckhead’ Wellington last night? Why do you think I still spend every summer in Blue Creek? Maggie isn't the only thing keeping me there. Why do you think I was walking in the direction of your house last night?” He ran his fingers roughly through his hair. “No. You know what? I won't answer your question, but I will ask you one of my own. Why did it take you
seeing me naked
this morning
for you to finally start noticing me?”

Talk about stunned into silence. I couldn't move a muscle or blink or say anything in response. I'd always heard of people saying how they forgot how to breathe in certain situations, but I'd never believed it possible. Well, I'm scientific proof that it is possible. My chest began to burn and my throat caught fire as some very vital organs stopped functioning.

My whole life, I'd always had a certain image of Leo Maddox built up in my mind, but maybe I'd been wrong to assume I knew him so well. Dad's favorite saying came to mind:
Don't assume. It makes an ass out of you and me.
When I saw Leo naked this morning, maybe one of my assumptions about him crumbled away. Then when he invited me to New York, I think I might have felt another slip away. And right now, having heard him confess that he cared about something other than himself—me—I was left with one ground-shaking idea. What else would I discover if I started peeling away at his layers? And the thought just plain pissed me the hell off. How dare he make me start questioning everything? How dare he make me feel something I shouldn't for him?