You Again | Editing

Chapter 46

Something's poking my ass.

My eyes peel open, and realization dawns on me.

It's not something, it's someone.

Leon.

My heart flutters in my chest—among other places—at the feel of his hardened length against me, but changes pace as the memory of my last thought before I drifted off last night surfaces. My heart is no longer beating in rhythm, it's beating erratic and unsteady. And my breathing isn't much better.

I don't like Leon anymore.

I don't like him because 'like' is too insignificant of a word to describe what I feel for him.

I love him.

It's too soon, and I can't and shouldn't be feeling this way, but I do. And I can't seem to think of any other word to describe the intensity of my feelings for him.

I love Leon.

"Are you okay?" Leon rasps, pulling me out of my restless thoughts. He recoils, putting some distance between our bodies. "Sorry about that," he says, referring to him poking me with his morning wood.

"No worries," I exhale, then inhale deeply, trying to calm my racing heart.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Sorry. Yeah, I'm okay."

He places his hand on my hip, shifting my body around to get me to lay on my back. "Are you sure?" His eyes flit over my face, concern filling his gaze. "Your heart's beating fast."

"It's the Leon effect," I joke, hoping to redirect the conversation. When Leon doesn't seem all that convinced or pleased with my response, I add, "I'm okay. Promise."

I am okay.

I'm okay with Leon waking up beside me in my bed. I'm okay with him stabbing my ass with his dick. I'm okay with kissing him until I'm on the verge of giving myself to him completely. I'm okay with the fact that I love him.

But I shouldn't be. I shouldn't be feeling this strongly for him, not this soon. We haven't been together but for a couple of weeks, and for me to go from not wanting to be in a relationship with anyone and pushing Leon away the second I felt vulnerable to feeling these intense emotions for him is insane.

And that's exactly why I can't tell him. Not yet, anyway. I need to be certain that what I'm feeling for him is real, and not some hormonal reaction to feeling him against me this morning. 

***

"So, what do you think?" I ask Leon later that night, twisting from side to side as I stand in front of my bedroom mirror to get a better look at my outfit for Miranda's party. I'm wearing a backless scarlet cross wrap halter bodycon dress with a cut-out by my cleavage paired with glittery black pumps.

In the reflection of the mirror, I catch Leon swallowing deeply and adjusting his pants from where he's seated on the bed. He catches me staring, then quickly averts his attention from my ass to the reflection of my face. "Great," is all he says in response, his voice thick.

"Thanks?" I was expecting more from him based on his reaction after I came out of the bathroom. His jaw was damn near on the floor. But now? Now he seems to be on another planet; physically he's here, but mentally he's faraway.

"You look stunning," he reassures me, spreading his legs apart and tugging on his pants, again. "Too stunning, actually."

I turn around, squinting at him. "Is that even a thing?"

"You made it a thing." He beckons me over, and I pad over to him and place my hands on his shoulders as he's placing his hands on my hips. "I'm glad you convinced Bradley to give you a plus one."

"Why's that?"

"'Cause I would be jealous as fuck if he got to see you in this dress longer than I did." So that's what this is about. Bradley.

Leon's hands slide up and down my waist, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of my back. "And I also wouldn't be there to knock his ass out if he stares too much. Because I guarantee you, if you go there looking like this. . . You're turning every damn head."

The first bit of his response causes me to roll my eyes. "I think I can handle Bradley on my own."

"I know you can," he replies without missing a beat, staring up at me through thick lashes. "But at least I'll be there to watch and assist if needed."

Swatting him on the chest, I chuckle softly and grab my phone off the bed to check the time. "Are you ready? The party starts soon."

His head dips down and glances down at what little distance separates us. I step back, allowing him enough space to stand up from the bed. Once he does, he pulls my body flush against his. His erection presses against my stomach. "I'm ready whenever you are."

A double entendre, possibly? I'm not sure. But whether he was letting me know he was ready to leave for the party or ready for us to make the next move and have sex, my body's reaction is immediate. Warmth spreads from my chest then straight between my legs. My hormones want nothing more than for me to ask him what he means by what he said, but my earlier thoughts and rationale remind me of the duration of our relationship and how I need to chill out and take my time with him, with us. Everything is still so new between us, and I don't want to scare him away or pressure him by dropping L-bombs and moving too fast.