After a while, I headed downstairs to the less populated basement to search out some interesting books. I’d just unearthed one about the Victorian poets, when I heard steps behind me in the stacks. I turned, expecting to see Drew, but it was Leo.

With a couple of books in his hand, he stood there frozen, looking at me with a stunned expression on his face. He obviously hadn’t expected to see me.

I glanced at him nervously. “Hey. Find anything good?”

He stared at me blankly.

“Leo?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said holding up two books, “found a bargain on Bob Dylan’s Lyrics and another one on football in the 1970s. What about you?”

“Still looking.” I peered around him, expecting to see the meerkat scurrying around the corner any moment. “Where’s Tiffani?”

He stiffened and shrugged. “Where’s Drew?”

“Upstairs with Sebastian and Mila.”

He nodded. I nodded. We looked around the basement but not at each other.

Crickets may have chirped.

“So . . .” I murmured.

“Uh . . .” he said at the same time.

We both tried to laugh.

I sighed. “Things are weird between us aren’t they?”

“I don’t want them to be.” He stared at his books. “Sorry about Saturday. I never drink like that.”

“I know.”

He nodded.

“Are you happy with Tiffani?”

He dropped his eyes and when he didn’t speak, I smiled regretfully.

“Are you happy with Drew?” he asked, moving close enough to me that I could feel his heat. My breath whooshed out when he touched my hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “Does he kiss you like I did?”

Anger rose in me. “Yes. In fact, I think he’d like to thank you for telling me to leave you alone.”

He closed his eyes, and I think he looked like he was hurting. Then he stared at me like I was his manna from heaven, and I wanted him so bad right then, that if he said he wanted me, I would throw caution to the wind—but instead I heard, “Okay. I guess that’s good then.”

“Yes, it is,” I said after a bit, struggling to get the words out.

“Nora, I’ve been wanting to say something to you about what you told me, and there hasn’t been a time when we’ve been alone. I know I was too late to protect you from Finn, but if Drew, or anyone for that matter, ever hurts you . . .” he paused. “Tell me, and they’ll never fucking walk again.”

“Drew won’t hurt me.”

He took a deep breath. “Just let me be there for you, okay? Please. If you ever need me.”

I nodded.

“I got one last request, and I’ll never ask again.”

“What?” I croaked out.

He set his books on a shelf and then took mine and set them beside his. He tugged me to him until our chests were touching.

“What are you doing?” I mumbled in confusion.

He put his hands on either side of my face and slid them into my hair, letting out a breath as if in relief. “Just saying goodbye, Nora.”

“You’re going to kiss me?” I asked, tears pricking my eyes at the sadness in his face.

“Please, just this last time, Buttercup,” he said.

And with that one word, I was his.

He lowered his head, his gaze holding me captive. When our lips touched, his heated eyes stayed open and mine did, too. My mouth melted into his, moaning as his hot tongue explored the details of my tongue, my teeth, my lips. We started slow but it escalated rapidly, the passion between us burning higher and higher. He closed his eyes, shifting his body to press more firmly into me, gripping my hair as if he were afraid I’d try to get away. He owned me with his mouth, making me all his, and I was lost.

I tightened my arms around his waist, grinding myself against him. He hissed at the increased pressure and pushed me back against the sturdy bookshelf, picking me up and positioning me so his hips fit into my pelvis. He held me in place, rocking into me. Gasping at the feel of him, I lifted one of my legs, and he caught it and wrapped it around him. I clutched his ass and pulled him against me, my passion for him expanding, growing bigger and bigger as the room got hotter.

“Say my name,” he muttered gruffly as I sucked hard at his neck and then licked it. He grunted, and I dug my nails into his back as I kissed my way around his collarbone, sucking another spot.

“Say it, Nora. Say it,” he ordered me hoarsely, and more heat rushed to my center at his demand.

“Leo, Leo, Leo,” I pleaded, arching my back and pushing into him.

He shuddered. “Fucking love that,” he whispered and then placed his lips back on mine, dominating my mouth, like a man starved. All I could think about was him, him, him . . . his lips, his tongue, his taste, his butterscotch smell. I wanted all of him, and I’d never have him, and that thought made me frantic. I gripped him tighter, pushed my nails deeper, and kissed him harder. I never wanted his mouth to leave mine, not even for those little sweet kisses. I never wanted my tongue separated from his. I never wanted this moment to end.

“Want you so much. I’ve dreamed about making love to you a thousand times,” he whispered out, and the anguish I heard in his voice terrified me.

Leo! I loved him. Would it make a difference if I told him so? Would he suddenly give us a chance? I didn’t know the answers, but I knew this was everything; this was gut-wrenching love.

“Make me come, Leo,” I said desperately. He groaned and slipped his hand under my dress and shoved my panties to the side. Pushing his finger deep inside me, he kissed my neck feverishly as I trembled and tried to move underneath him, needing more. He pumped me fast, moving his fingers around, grinding me with little circles.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he groaned into my ear, biting down on it.

His lips came back to my mouth, his tongue dueling with mine. “Come for me, baby.”

Heat gathered in my spine, in my legs, and in my core, and I panted out his name as I came, my body clenching his fingers, the waves hitting me and hitting me, feeling like nothing I’d ever had before.

“Leo,” I said weakly, gazing into his eyes.

He looked wrecked.

He tightened his arms around me and opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of approaching footsteps startled us. He reluctantly pulled away from me, and I slid down. We straightened our clothes.