Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 130380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
“Very.”
Leo sat back with a victorious smile, and I shook my head, hating that while I was irritated, I was also fighting back the urge to swoon.
I’d always wanted a guy to give me his jacket.
So what if it was a sweater instead. It was still Leo’s. It smelled like him, like a spicy body wash and lush green grass on a hot summer day. I inhaled that scent on a sleepy-eyed smile, and then a laugh bellowed out of me before I could stop it.
“What?” Leo asked, watching me with an amused smile.
“Nothing.”
“You never giggle, so don’t tell me that was nothing.”
That made me laugh again. Or was it the edible? Everything felt so warm and lovely now that I had his sweater on, now that my high was really settling in.
“Nothing, it’s just…” I bit my lip, but it didn’t stop me from spilling what I know I would have kept locked up if I were sober. “When I was younger, I used to fantasize about a guy giving me his jacket.”
Leo’s smile crept up. “Really? You?”
“Yes, me,” I said defensively, smacking his chest. “I specifically dreamed about it being a letterman jacket, about a guy liking me so much he wanted me to wear something that claimed me like that.”
I shook my head at the stupid admission, cheeks flushing.
Then, I sobered on the memory that it hadn’t been just any guy I’d fantasized about.
It had been Leo.
I found myself exasperated by how easily my brain took me back to the past again, by how frequently it had been doing so lately. Before I could say another word, though, Leo hopped up and was carefully moving up the roof.
“What are you doing?”
“Be right back,” was all he called over his shoulder before disappearing.
I blew out a breath, and the longer I was alone, the more I debated sneaking back inside. I hated that I wanted to be there with him, that I loved the fact that he was up here with me when he could be inside with any other girl on campus.
“Don’t be a fool,” I chastised myself, and I was already starting to peel off his sweater when I heard him fumbling down the roof to me.
I turned just in time for him to open a huge jacket and wrap it around me from behind.
Not just a jacket.
His letterman.
I froze when the weighted fabric cloaked me, my heart pounding in my ears.
“What are you doing?” I thought I heard myself ask.
I glanced up at Leo, who only shrugged and tucked the jacket tighter around me. “Making dreams come true.”
My breathing intensified, heart quickening its pace until it felt like just a flutter in my chest. I looked down at where the navy-blue wool hugged me, fingers deftly tracing the leather accents, the buttons, every little piece all the way up to our school’s letter.
I knew without confirming that his last name was sprawled across the back.
For a moment, I was fifteen again, floating on the cloud Leo Hernandez built just for me. I was living on angst and butterflies until his name lit up my screen, dreaming about his voice, smiling every morning when I saw a text from him waiting on my phone.
“It looks good on you,” Leo said, his voice all a part of the foggy haze.
But when I lifted my gaze to meet his, I realized I was smiling.
And when his eyes fell to my mouth, when he swallowed and glanced back up at me like he wanted… like he wanted to…
I plummeted down to earth again, landing with a painful splat.
Hastily, I shrugged the jacket off my shoulders, ripping his sweater overhead next. I couldn’t breathe, let alone speak as I started fumbling my way down the roof.
“Mary, wait.”
Leo abandoned the layers of him I’d shed on the shingles and chased after me. He passed me easily, blocking my window before I could climb through it.
“Move, Leo.”
“What happened? Why do you shut down any time I try to get close to you?”
I was so dizzy I nearly fell off the roof. “Please, just move.”
Leo let out a frustrated breath, but to my surprise, he did as I asked, sliding out of the way and even offering a hand to help me inside. I ignored it, of course, but once my feet were planted on the cold wood floor of my room, he pressed his hands on the window ledge and leaned in, keeping me from shutting the window.
“Why do you hate me so much?”
I was still having an internal freakout, but thankfully my instincts kicked in and I scoffed. “I don’t care about you enough to hate you.”
“I’m serious,” he said, not deterred. “You’re nice to the other guys. Friendly, even.”
“Yeah, well, they aren’t complete pigs.”
“And I am?”
I met his eyes then, and instantly regretted it. He looked like he wanted to crawl through that window, through me, like he wanted to rip me open until he could see everything I was hiding.