His Guilty Pleasure (FIRST DRAFT)

Liberated (15)

A/N: SORRY GUYS FOR THE SLOW UPDATES. I JUST HAD FINALS SO EEEEEK! WAS BUSY! SO SORRY BUT HERE YOU GO! PLEASE LIKE, COMMENT, SHARE! GETTING NEW READERS MOTIVATES ME TO KEEP ON WRITING! LOVE YOU ALL! LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS ON WHERE THIS IS GOING!

P.S: Leo in my mind is Ian Somerhalder but he can be anyone for you! I just think Ian is sexy as fuuuuuuuuck.

GABBY

When I wake up, I fully expect Leo Hamilton to be gone. But when I shift in my bed, I find him next to me, sleeping. He looks beautiful--dangerously beautiful. There is something ethereal about him, in this moment. Perhaps it's because he isn't awake, so I can't see the disgust in his eyes. Or perhaps it's because he looks at peace. 

I could stare for hours, but suddenly one of his eyes blinks open. "What time is it?" He groans. He winces once he speaks and hesitantly puts a finger to his tender busted lip. 

"Do you remember anything from last night?" I watch him cautiously, furrowing my brow. 

He shoots up like he's been electrocuted. "You and me...we didn't...?"

I roll my eyes and shift in bed so that my back is to him. Of course he treats the idea of having slept with me as an end of the world scenario. "Screw you." I manage to spit out. I feel tears welling up in my eyes so I furiously blink, trying in vain to keep them at bay. 

I can feel Leo lay back down in bed and then suddenly, I feel big hands grasp at my waist. "I didn't mean it like that." He whispers, so faint that I almost don't hear him. "Please don't take it the wrong way, Gabby. I just didn't..."

I wait for him to continue, but he doesn't. I roll over again, our faces so close that I can see the specks of gold in his eyes. 

"Didn't what?" I whisper. I pray that my morning breath isn't horrible because I hate the idea of him getting a whiff of it at its worst. He doesn't grimace when I speak, so I assume that I'm in the clear for now. 

"I just didn't want my first time being with you to be a time that I didn't remember."

He bites his lip and my heart sinks. He's reeling me back in. He knows what he's doing to me, he has to. And yet he is taking advantage of my feelings for him. For all I know, he remembers everything that happened last night and used me. Leo Hamilton is a user. 

"There won't be a first time, Leo." I break our mutual gaze, shifting my head so that I'm staring at the ceiling. There are dozens of glow in the dark stars, but since it's morning, they look like nothing at all. They look ugly. That's how I feel right now. Hideous. "I'm tired of this."

"Tired of what?" I can hear the questioning in his tone. 

"This, Leo. This back and forth, the questions, the wondering. You might think you're attracted to me, but you sure as hell haven't treated me like someone attractive. You'd rather be dead than seen with me. I'm tired of waiting around like some lovesick puppy, hoping you'll wake up and realize that I'm the girl for you. I'm tired of waiting for you to change because guys like you don't change. Not unless they want to. And you don't want to change, Leo. You just love yourself too damn much."

He is silent. Good. I get out of bed, blushing at my choice of pajamas but not bothering to check if he's looking me up and down. It doesn't matter if he's attracted to me, I realize, because until he wants something more, I don't care. The realization hits me like a brick. I'm tired of being here, waiting for him. He can man up or he can get the fuck out of my life. Either way, I'm done. 

"You can let yourself out. I'm sure you've slept over with my sister enough times to know your way around." 

I go to the bathroom and lock the door behind me, in case he comes in behind me and tries to have the last word. I draw a bath, feeling on top of the world.

Yes, I'm proud of myself for telling Leo off. Fuck him if he thinks I'm going to wait around for him forever. But I'm also happy because it's like a switch has gone off in my mind--I don't need Leo Hamilton. It'd be nice if he liked me, but I'm going to be fine either way.

And if he wants to play the field, so can I.

I text Adam from the frat party: Got any plans 2day?