Chapter 4

4

LILY

When I ‘accidentally' forgot to grab the keys before going to the storeroom with Leo, all I wanted was to spend time with him. I knew Gem would arrive soon, so felt safe locking us in. The door barely ever auto-locks…unless you know how. I felt awful locking him in when I saw his skin. When I realised the boxes marked his skin, I'd forgotten I locked the door, and we didn't have a first-aid kit in the storeroom. No clue what I would've done to help the marks, but getting to touch his skin was a bonus and he seemed to enjoy it by his tinged cheeks.

What I hadn't bargained for was my brain taking a holiday after nearly kissing him and blurting out my ridiculous question. Granted, I got the answer I wanted, but did I have to make it sound like a demand? Some tact would've been ideal, but whatever. He agreed and I will be holding him to it. Even if he seemed hesitant, I'll just have to change his mind and convince him we're a good match.

Did my underhanded way to spend time with him keep me awake at night? Yes. Not my finest moment. In fact, in the dark of night, with my mind racing, it kept coming back to the idea that I'm no different from my stalker.

Well, technically, I'm not stalking him. I'm just very eager to see him and always look for him on the street. But forcing him into a room with me with no way out isn't exactly full of good intentions. Not that he realises what I did.

Gentle coercion never hurt anybody. Right?

Considering he hasn't texted me about dinner, I'm not sure it matters. Despite giving him my number and his agreement to dinner, I haven't seen him since the storeroom incident two days ago. Which makes sense since it's my day off, so there's no reason to see him. Unless he'd send me a tiny little text. I'd take an emoji at this point.

To distract myself from spiralling thoughts, I decided to go shopping. Somehow, I ended up in a lingerie store.

It makes no sense. I won't buy any of it. Probably.

A violet bra decorated with ribbon catches my eye. There's no reason for me to buy it, I don't need it. Not like anyone will see it, though a girl can hope. Maybe I will buy it. To give me confidence or whatever. Or because it looks cute.

I wander through the shop, brushing my fingers against silk, and pause when I see a white set. The bra is mesh with a delicate floral pattern and ruffles at the top and bottom. It's see-through except for some strategically placed blue flowers. I find my size, snag the matching underwear, and duck into the changing room.

After stripping off my winter clothes except for my jeans, I try on the ruffled bra and stare at the mirror. Can't say I've ever owned anything see-through before, but something about this makes me want to. To see Leo's face when he sees it. Or whoever is lucky enough to see it. It's not hard to admit I want Leo to see it. To watch him take it off me, throw it across the room and…

I lift the underwear and grimace. Can they be classified as underwear? I turn them around. Not when there's that little fabric holding it together. How is it comfortable? It's as see- through as the bra with significantly less fabric. Think I'll try those on in the privacy of my bedroom, after they've gone through a washing machine. But I'm committed, and after I've changed back into my clothes, I collect the set and march to the counter to pay for them before I can convince myself otherwise.

The sales assistant wraps them in pink tissue paper and puts them in a tiny bag, which I take with a quiet thank you.

Exiting the store, I open my tote bag and shove the lingerie in it. Don't need, nor want, people knowing I bought a g-string thank you very much. I only take a few steps, too busy hiding my purchase, before I crash into someone. A warm hand grasps my upper arm to steady me. "I'm sorry. I wasn't—oh. Hello."

Leo squeezes my arm gently, and his lips twitch. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. You?" I stammer, surprised to see him here. He's wrapped in a black coat with a soft looking blue scarf, which makes me want to nestle into him. Not exactly new emotions.

"I'm great." He releases my arm. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, nothing. Just walking." I stuff the lingerie deeper into my tote and close the bag. Hiding the evidence. God, of course I bump into him after I bought lingerie with him in mind—I mean for me.

Dark eyes glance at my hand and then at the store behind me. His cheeks flush and he coughs. "I was about to text you. Are you free tonight?"

"I'm free now," I blurt out. I cringe and correct myself. "I mean, I'm free tonight."

"You're not shopping?" he asks, eyes gleaming as he looks at the store behind me to my bag.

"Nope. All done." Someone save me from myself and my red cheeks, giving me away. "Just walking around." Have I said that already?

Leo smirks. "The mall?"

"Yep. Are you shopping?"

"Just walking," he says with a smile.

"Maybe we could walk together?" I ask, heart in my throat.

Leo checks his watch. "Or we could walk to my car, drive to my flat, and get dinner."

"Let's do that." I loop my arm around his and breathe in his calming scent. "Where to?"

He holds me close and we stroll towards the exit, trying to avoid crowds of people taking cover in the mall. It must be raining. When we step outside, I shiver and sidle closer to Leo to steal some of his warmth. Rain pelts the concrete and splashes onto our boots, the sky's dark and thunder cracks in the distance.

"How far are you parked?"

"It's not too far away."

"I don't mind getting wet." Heat stings my cheeks. "I mean?—"

"I know what you meant. I have an umbrella." He opens a black umbrella I didn't notice him holding, and wraps an arm around my shoulders to hide us from the rain.

We don't rush out of the rain like everyone else, but walk slowly to his car. I'm enjoying being wrapped under his arm too much to care about the rain soaking my jeans.

When we reach his car, he holds the umbrella above me and helps me into the seat and closes the door behind me when I'm settled. When he slips into the car, he turns the heat on high and pulls out of the car park.

It doesn't take long to drive to his flat—it's a few streets over from mine, which is information I don't need but desperately want. How am I supposed to sleep knowing I could walk to his place in a few minutes?

His flat's small but has large windows, and his front door opens straight into the lounge. Leo helps me out of my coat and hangs it on a hook to dry, leaving me to peer around his home. His couch is black and squishy looking with a dark wood coffee table in front of it, and paintings on the wall. I'm too far away to see the details but the canvases are full of colour and texture. Maybe he has a family member who's an artist.

"Sit and make yourself comfortable." He nods to the couch. He's removed his coat and scarf to reveal a tight long-sleeved shirt, and I barely stop myself from staring at him. "Want coffee? I have tea as well, but I don't have the syrup stuff you use at the café."

He remembered my favourite drink. "Coffee's fine," I say, taking a seat on his couch. It's a couch that makes you want to curl up with a blanket and put a movie on—it gives you a hug—but I'd rather Leo wrap me up than his couch. I breathe in deeply, although it does smell like him, so I'll take it.

Leo strides to the kitchen on the right and the sound of a coffee grinder echos in the room, but it doesn't take long for him to return.

He hands me a cup of coffee and I wrap my chilly hands around it, greedy for the warmth as he sinks beside me on the couch.

"What made you want to open a café?"

I sip the coffee while I think of an answer. "I'm not sure. I always liked experimenting, and I love seeing people's faces when they enjoy what I've made them. It seemed logical to open a café. The early mornings, however, I could survive without."

"I bet." Leo shifts closer to me. "What's your favourite sweet treat you make?"

"For the café or myself?"

"What do you make for you ?" He runs a finger across my shoulder to emphasise the ‘you' and I shiver.

"Brownies." He raises an eyebrow and I shove him gently, careful of his coffee. "Not those kind of brownies."

He laughs. "Sorry."

"Brownies are easy to make but are comforting to eat in the middle of the night after a bad day. Warm and chewy are the best kind. I can almost eat an entire tray."

"Only almost?"

"Gotta leave some for the morning, otherwise I'll be disappointed." I smile into my cup and drain the coffee.

He fiddles with his cup before setting it on the table and putting mine beside it. "Would I be allowed some of these brownies?"

"Only if you don't eat them all." My chest squeezes at the image of him in my flat while I bake the brownies I only make at home for friends and family. "What do you do when you aren't working and walking around shopping malls with me?"

He hesitates before replying quietly, "I like art."

"Looking at it or creating it?" It explains the paint on his hands a few days ago. Imagining him with a sketchbook on my couch while I experiment in the kitchen sends butterflies swooping in my stomach. We could eat brownies and watch a movie together. Or I could read while he sketches.

"Creating it."

"What medium do you prefer to work in? Oil or acrylic? Sketching? Pastels? People or landscapes?" I stop asking questions when he laughs. He's not laughing at me, but seems to find all my questions amusing. Hopefully more endearing than annoying.

"I've tried most, but usually I paint with oils."

"Will you show me?" I ask tentatively, wondering if the paintings on the walls are his.

His eyes dart to the hall and shutter slightly. Almost as if he's panicked. "Maybe one day."

I ignore his change in emotion and decide to stay clear of any more questions about his art. Clearly it's important to him, and talking about it makes him uncomfortable. Don't want him uncomfortable around me. "I'll hold you to that. One day, you'll get brownies, and I'll get to see your art."

"Deal."

"What do you want for dinner?" He's left his hand close to my shoulder and I can feel his heat.

I inch closer to him. "What are my options?"

"Anything you want. I can cook or we can order in."

A glance at the kitchen confirms my decision. If he cooks, I won't be as close to him, won't be able to touch him as easily. After realising that it's an easy decision.

"Let's buy food and watch a movie while we wait," I suggest.

"Sounds perfect." He pulls out his phone and scrolls through takeaway options. "There's pizza, Indian, and a good Thai place down the road."

"I love that place."

"Thai it is." He hands me the phone and I put in my order, hand it back to him, and he clicks a few times before putting it away. "What do you want to watch?"

I shrug. "I'm happy with anything. I know I said movie, but usually I watch whatever's on."

"Really? You don't have a preference?"

"Anything but horror, and we're good."

"That I can do." He grabs the remote and clicks through different options before deciding on a new comedy film.

We settle in together on the couch and get comfortable. Leo leaves his arm near my shoulder on the back of the couch, and I lean my head closer to him.

I giggle at what's happening on the TV and glance at Leo to see him already looking at me. Turning my head fully, I ask softly, "What?"

"Nothing." His dark eyes trace my face and he leans closer to me.

My eyes dart to his lips when he licks them. I bite my lip and lean closer to him, tilting my head, the film on in the background the last thing on my mind. Especially when Leo's now close enough for me to feel his breath on my face.

"What are you doing?"

His hand touches my shoulder and drifts to the side of my neck, rubbing small circles, causing my breath to hitch.

"Can I kiss you?"

In answer, I launch myself at him, wrap my arms around his neck, and press our lips together. He groans and wraps his other hand around my waist, clutching gently. Grounding me. Making me realise this is actually happening.

I gasp when his tongue darts along my bottom lip, and I chase it. If this is happening and I'm not dreaming, I'm not wasting the opportunity. My hands thrust into his thick hair and tug at the strands, while his hand moves to my thigh, heat rushes through me.

I moan and break the kiss to breathe before trailing open-mouthed kisses down his neck. When I find the opening of his shirt, he guides me back to his lips and kisses me deeply, stubble scratching my face. Throwing my leg across his lap, I straddle him and we both moan at the contact as I grind down. His hands land on my hips, the warmth branding me, but he stops, breaks the kiss, and presses our foreheads together.

"Slow," he pants. "We need to slow down."

I nod, incapable of words, and grin breathlessly at him. His hands squeeze my hips, and he tugs me into a hug, nuzzling his face into my shoulder.

Someone knocks at the door, and the noise causes me to jump.

"It's the food."

"Already?" Didn't we just order? Time flies when you're making out with your crush.

"I'll be back in a second." He taps me gently, and I shift off him.

My eyes follow him to the door and I ask, "Where's the bathroom?" I need time to calm down before eating food like a civilised person instead of jumping him as soon as he gets the food.

"Down the hall on the left."

I head down the hall and open the first door I see, too busy remembering his lips on mine to realise it's the wrong door.

"Not that one?—"

I don't hear the rest of his response. Instead, I'm staring at the room I've entered. It's dim despite the large windows with ominous grey clouds barely holding back rain, but it's light enough to see the art supplies scattered everywhere, with the smell of turpentine permeating the air. Strong and woody. My eyes flick across the walls, and my heart pounds in my ears. My mouth's dry, and I find it difficult to swallow.

"Is there a reason…" I trail off and suck in a breath. "Is there a reason—" I try again, but I can't get the words out.

There are pictures of me on the walls.

Every wall is covered in me .

Drawings in pencil, canvases on easels, what looks like watercolours on the desk. The room's littered with paper and canvases of…me. Mostly my face in different lighting, different hairstyles I've done. I turn slowly to face the doorway and see Leo standing in front of the room, fist tight on the takeaway bag. My hands feel numb. He doesn't say anything. Just stands in the doorway. Watching me.

My eyes catch on a drawing where the setting's dark, but I've walked under a streetlight so you can see what I'm wearing. I'm wearing a hoodie. I don't own many because they make me feel like I'm choking, but I would remember that one anywhere.

It's his.

And I don't know how he knows I wore it—maybe he hoped I would? But I remember the feeling of being followed, of someone making me feel safe getting to work even though I know it's wrong to think that.

My eyes fly to his, and when we lock eyes, he sees something in mine that causes him to shut his. "Have you been following me, Leo?"

"Lily, I—" He cuts himself off and rubs a hand over his chest.

"It was you. But why?" It doesn't make any sense. I rip paper off the wall. This piece is my silhouette done in coloured pencils with Cas dancing around my feet. He knows I have a cat, but I never told him what Cas looks like. "Why! How do you know what my cat looks like?"

He flinches and backs into the hallway so he isn't caging me in the room. "Because I…"

"Are you going to finish your sentence?" My hand crinkles the paper, and his brow furrows in what looks like pain when he notices it.

He breathes deeply. "I wanted to make sure you got to work."

I draw up short and blink at him. "You followed me to work each day to make sure I got there?"

He nods and crosses his arms, the takeaway food bumping his chest. "You said you walk to work in the dark, and I didn't like the idea of you doing it alone. All I did was make sure you got there safely. I always left once Gemma arrived." He clears his throat. "And occasionally I'd drive by your flat to make sure you arrived home okay."

"What?" I say sharply. He knows where I live? And had been checking on me? I'd only had the feeling of someone watching me at home twice, but he makes it sound as if he's done it multiple times.

"I—Lily, it's not safe to walk in the dark."

"I'm aware." I scan the room again, seeing my hair and silhouette over and over. "So you made sure I got to work safely and didn't die? Bit weird, but thanks I guess. What the fuck is all this?" I gesture at the walls.

He shrugs his shoulders, eyes on the floor. "I like to paint."

"The only art on these walls are of me and my cat. Why don't you paint anything else?"

"Sometimes I paint the ocean."

"But hang pictures of me." I glare at him and realise I'm breathing hard. I need to get out of here. Why am I standing here, talking to someone who follows me around, surrounded by art he's done of me? "I'm leaving." I edge into the hall and creep along the wall opposite him, trying to stay as far away from him as I can.

"Lily, please wait. Let me explain?—"

"No. Don't come near me."

I leave him in the hallway, staring after me, clutching Thai food in his hand.

The door slams behind me.