“Even if he’d been breathing when he got here, I wouldn’t have been able to save him,” I tell her. “The bullet went straight through his heart before it hit Leo.”
Toni lets out a heavy breath and turns to look up at me with hazel eyes that shouldn’t carry such sadness at her age. It’s a stark contrast to the glint of wicked humor visible in all her online promo shots. But I understand this look all too well because I still feel the same way more often than I’d like to admit.
“I know. Leo told me everything. I’m grateful to you for saving him and Celeste. They’ve been my foundation since it happened. I suppose I owe you a thank-you for them too.” Her smile is more genuine now, and I can’t help but smile back as I shake my head.
“I didn’t save them. Leo’s wound wasn’t fatal. And I wasn’t the one jumping in front of bullets that night. Celeste owes her life to Manny and Leo, not me.”
Toni regards me for a second, and I’m sure she can see right through me. Her expression says she knows I’m holding back, and she holds my gaze long enough that I start to itch. I scrub the back of my head with one hand and glance at the floor, uncomfortable under her scrutiny.
“Listen, if you want to talk to Sam about his art, I can go get him. I’m sure he’d love a reprieve from studying for his history exam. Just don’t jerk him around. If you’re not serious about taking an apprentice, just go, and nobody needs to be the wiser.”
Toni ignores the change of subject. “She tells me everything, Maddox. She has since we were kids. And Leo and I have been close for the past five years. I know what you mean to both of them. She might be with Leo now, but she has loved you almost her whole life, and Leo cares about you more than he’s willing to admit.”
My brows twitch, and I rub them with my thumb and index finger, sighing. This isn’t what I need to hear. I need to be able to move on. “Does she love him? Are they happy? Because that’s all that matters.”
She smiles. “Yeah. It’s wonderful to see because neither of them have ever been this happy in their lives, and I’ve known them long enough to know. But they’re afraid to flaunt it around you. Afraid it’ll hurt you. I can sense something is missing, and I think it’s your friendship.”
I clench my teeth and narrow my eyes. “How much did Celeste tell you?”
“Enough for me to guess that you’re lonely here. If you can see your way to accepting their friendship, I know they’d love to see you again. And for the love of God, will you finish that tattoo you started for Celeste? She showed me the design ages ago. It’s amazing, and I refused to ink it for her. It should be you.”
She isn’t biting on my request for details, so I just hang my head and sigh. “Fine. I could use the business.”
She lifts one eyebrow and crosses her arms, but that’s all I’ll cop to because I can’t handle admitting more to her. I’m conflicted as hell about the idea of setting eyes on either of them again.
Finally, she sighs, realizing that’s all she’s getting out of me, and casts her gaze up toward the windows to my loft. “So, your golden boy of a brother—Sam, is it? I want to see more of his work. I know it’s short notice, but do you think he’s up for an interview?”
“Woman, that kid will be over the fucking moon just to meet you. Wait here and I’ll get him.”
23
Celeste
“Happy” hasn’t been part of my vocabulary for as long as I can remember, but being roused in the early morning by the possessive squeeze of a muscular, tattooed arm sends me pretty deep into the realm of happiness. Leo’s murmured “g’morning ángel” is muffled by the skin of my neck, and I tilt my head, inviting his continued kisses and nips as he trails them over my naked shoulder.
I sigh and push back against him, ready and already aching to feel him inside me, but he seems to be on a mission. He pushes up onto his elbow and hovers over me, pulling the sheet down to bare my breasts, then cups one in his big hand while he laves the other with alternating kisses, licks, and nips of his teeth. I like the sharp spikes of pain in between the softer teasing, and he picks up on the fact that it gets me hot, biting harder with his teeth and pinching my other nipple between thumb and forefinger.
“Leo,” I whine, rubbing my thighs together and arching my hips toward him, desperate for more. In answer, he nuzzles lower, then sinks his teeth hard into the underside of my breast. I gasp and bat at his head but catch only a wild mass of tangled hair.
“Mine,” he growls, then laughs against my belly as he moves lower. “You won’t get that tattoo I want you to get, so I need to mark you somehow.”
“What tattoo?” I feign ignorance because I know he loves to explain it to me, even though there’s no way in hell I’ll follow through with his kinky request. It’s one of many he makes on a regular basis, but they’re all so ridiculous. I’m a grown woman with billions in assets. I’m not about to get my coño tattooed just because it would turn him on.
As expected, he slides down my body and positions himself between my legs. I keep myself waxed for him, which I’ve decided I prefer. The sensations are all the sweeter
