Wilde by Abby Brooks
Chapter Twenty-Two
Amy
Streams of hot water trail down my body as I absentmindedly lather my skin with a small bar of hotel soap, my focus on the memory of Leo’s hands on me. Our bodies simultaneously giving and taking from one another. The hard planes of his abs, tapering down to that decadent V at his hips. His muscles coiling and bunching as I gripped his back. The glint in his eyes as he gazed into mine, mahogany and ice. And then, my white blond tresses against his black chest hair, the contrast so perfect. So beautiful.
I felt the earth move. Like the actual center of gravity for the whole freaking planet shifted under us. If that’s what sex is supposed to be, how is everyone not doing it ALL THE TIME?
I finish my shower and towel off, then get dressed and dry my hair. When I step out of the bathroom, I find Leo sitting at the desk, his bag on the floor beside the chair. He offers no indication he notices when I stand beside him, his focus given entirely to the thing he’s scribbling on the hotel stationary. “Whatcha got there?”
He glances up but is interrupted by two sharp knocks on the door followed by a muffled voice announcing, “Room service.”
Curious, when Leo stands to answer the door, I plop into the chair to study his work. I’m awed how his deft and furious strokes with a crappy pen were able to create something so beauti—hold up now.
I cock my head to look at the picture from a different angle. She’s...
I stand and step back to look from a distance. What the hell?
IS THAT ME?
I check my reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall, comparing my details to hers. Aside from a cheesy grin, the similarities are pretty unmistakable. I can’t believe he drew me.
The lines are so confident and bold. The woman in the drawing—me—stares ahead seductively. She’s powerful. In control. Sexy.
I love that he sees me that way.
“Thanks again,” Leo says as he hefts the tray of food off the cart and pulls his foot away from the door, allowing it to thud closed. He places two iced teas and a plate of food on the desk then has a seat on the bed, balancing the other plate on his lap. He eagerly cuts into his breakfast, lifting a large forkful of steak and egg to his mouth. When he looks over and notices me grinning his way, he cocks his head. “I love seeing that smile. Especially knowing I put it there.”
“You sure did.” I tap the memo pad with my nail. “I just don’t know what to say.”
“You like her?” He takes another bite. “I can’t help myself. The first time I drew her she came out almost perfect. Thing is, I hadn’t set out to draw anything like that,” he says, gesturing at the sketch. “I was working through some shit and just sat down to get the emotions on paper, ya know?” He taps the side of his head with the back of his steak knife. “Anyway, I don’t have the first clue where she came from. But like I said, she was almost perfect. I’ve been trying to find the missing pieceever since. She’s kind of become an addiction.”
Swoon to the moon. I’m his addiction. Wait, why does he keep referring to drawing me as her and she?
“Well, I think she looks amazing.” Look at me, all easy breezy, rolling with it. “I just…I’m really honored.”
Leo’s brow crinkles. “How do you mean?” he asks around a forkful of scrambled egg.
Admittedly I’m confused by the question, but I press on. “That you thought enough of me to draw me at all, is like, the biggest compliment. Obviously. But to hear that you’re—” I make air quotes with my fingers “—obsessed with trying to get me just right. That’s…wow.”
Leo sets his plate on the bed beside him. “You don’t think… I’m sorry, Skips, but she’s…uh…she’s no one in particular.” He reaches into his bag and retrieves a sketchbook and quickly flips through the pages. “Here,” he says as he lays the original on the desk beside its miniature. He studies them side by side, his brow furrowed.
To say my pride is wounded after hearing that a drawing of his “perfect” woman—who is DEFINITELY not me but who DOUBLE DEFINITELY looks a suspiciously hell of a lot like me—would be an understatement. But I push that aside because the last thing I want to do is ruin what’s shaping up to be a wonderful day.
My phone dingswith a new message, and my stomach drops when I see it’s from Avery. Shit. Now is not the time to bring him up.
Leo looks up from the sketches. “Anything important?”
I shake my head. “Just a reminder of something I need to take care of when we get back.” It’s not a lie. But if it’s not, why do I feel so guilty? Okay, I don’t mean for it to be a lie. “So what should we do now?” I ask, packing those feelings away and shifting to lighter topics. “Are you going to dazzle me with your knowledge of Nashville? Perhaps take me on a personal tour?”
Leo looks at me funny, then smiles and walks over, taking my hand in his and pulling me out of the chair. He walks me to the window and pulls back the shears. “See that, out there?” He points to the distance.
“Yeah.” I strain my eyes, trying to find whatever he’s showing me. “I think?”
“That’s Nashville.” He twirls his finger in concentric circles. “And somewhere in all of that is a place called Bridgestone Arena. That’s where we’re going tonight.” He steps back and dips his head in a bow. “This concludes your tour. Thank you for choosing Wilde Adventures. Please travel safely.”
“That’s it? What about Music Row? The Country Music Hall of Fame? The Grand Ole’ Opry? I have three different lists of things we could see and places we could visit and you’re just gonna wave a hand at the window and call it a day?”
“Have you ever considered not planning everything down to the last detail? What would happen if you just let a day unfold?”
I grimace. “The last time I did that, I ended up pregnant.”
“Right. And I ended up with you.” Leo’s face softens as he cups my cheek. “Kind of sounds like a win to me.”
“And getting to know you has definitely been a win for me. So come on and show a girl a good time, already.” I grab his free hand and pull him toward the door. “I won’t even show you my lists.”
Leo stops and tugs my arm, killing my momentum and half-twirling me back to him. He brushes the hair from my eyes and pulls me into his embrace. “I want to make this the best tour you’ve ever had. Anything you want to see or do, we will.” A wicked grin lights his face. “Especially if what you want to do is me.”
“I’m definitely a fan of doing you.”
As Leo’s kisses move down my neck, I can’t stop thinking about the fact that I’m not his perfect woman, even if I do look just freaking like her. Plus, he’ll be gone in a couple months, and I’m definitely getting attached. What will happen when he leaves?
Determined not to let those dark clouds ruin our good time, I choose to focus on during and let myself enjoy the damn day.
It may go down as the best decision I’ve ever made.
We luck into the coolest Uber driver ever. He ferries us from stop to stop, endlessly sharing factoids and details about each location. He’s convincing as hell, but I’m pretty sure he makes half of them up on the spot. For instance, I’m no expert, but it seems kind of impossible for Elvis to have recorded his breakthrough album for three different record labels. He finally drops us in front of the venue a little after six. Leo hangs back to settle up as I climb out and stretch my legs.
After the jet-black Honda pulls away, I turn to Leo. “Do I even want to guess how much that cost?”
“Not if you want to enjoy the rest of the evening.”
I’d assumed a tattoo artist with a studio in a strip mall in Logan, Colorado wouldn’t have a reliable income, but Leo throws money around like nobody’s business. From high end baby furniture to flying first class, from expensive dinners to private tours of Nashville…either he’s terrible with his money or he’s more successful than I’ve given him credit for.
A big part of me has been hoping he’ll choose to stay with me and our baby instead of moving to Los Angeles to live out his dream, and that part grows larger every day.
But now, I’m wondering if that wish is more selfish than I thought.
If he’s capable of building a successful business in a such a small town, what could he do if he took himself to where the action is?
Pushing all that aside to ponder later, I smile and twine my fingers through his. “So far, so good, Wilde. So far, so good. The question now is whether you can keep it up.”
Leo raises a brow. “Keep what up?”
“Showing a girl a good time. The day’s not done. Now’s the time for dinner and a show.”
“Hmm.” He rubs the stubble on his chin. “Settle for a hot pretzel and a kickass view of a rock concert from backstage?”