Page 165 of Lucky Mother Pucker

I chuckle as she heads back into the house. I finish the last few sips of wine, then head inside to use the bathroom.

When I finish washing my hands and step into the hallway, I hear raised voices. I stop in my tracks.

“…I just want to know what the hell is going through your mind, Leo.”

The sound of Leo laughing bitterly echoes down the hall.

“Really? Because I was about to ask you the same thing,” Leo says in a spiteful tone.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“What are you doing, Dad? Mom invited you to share a meal and spend time with your family and friends. And instead of doing that, you try to start shit with me.”

“You watch your tone with me. I’m your father.”

Another bitter laugh from Leo. They sound so close. I think they’re in the room next to the bathroom.

I step forward, noticing the half-open door.

“You sure don’t act like a dad,” Leo says. “You act more like a sports analyst than my dad.”

“It’s for your own good. I know what’s best for you. I know how to get you to play at the top of your game. If you’d just listen to me, you’d be so much better. But, no. You have to be stubborn and defy me. You have to bring that girl here even though you know she’s a distraction, which is exactly what you don’t need right now.”

My stomach bottoms out. I’m not surprised that his dad would say that about me. I know he doesn’t like me. But it still sucks to hear him insult me.

“But, no. You’d rather think with your dick,” his dad says. “Whatever this girl is giving you in the bedroom, it’s not worth it, Leo. You need to be smarter⁠—”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Leo booms. “Don’t you ever talk about my girlfriend like that.”

I stand in the hallway, in shock at Leo’s words. He just called me his girlfriend.

“We’re done,” he says. “Don’t ever speak to me again.”

Leo walks out of the room and into the hallway, almost running into me.

His burnt umber eyes widen at the sight of me.

“Lucy.” His throat bobs as he swallows.

“You called me your girlfriend.” The words come tumbling out of me.

Panic flashes in his gaze. He grabs my hand and leads me down the hall, into some other room, and closes the door.

“I-I didn’t mean to…I wasn’t…” He trails off when I shake my head. My heart pounds.

I need to know if he meant what he said.

“Did you mean it?” I ask. “When you called me your girlfriend?”

I hold my breath; that hopeful feeling courses through me like a whirlwind.

Please say you meant it. Please.

He takes a breath. “Yeah, Luce. I meant it.” He cups my face in his hands. “I know you want to take this slow. I know you didn’t want to get serious because you’ve spent the last few years in survival mode, and you just want to have fun and not feel pressured. I get it. I really do. But I have feelings for you. And I’m sorry I called you my girlfriend when that’s not what you want. I swear I won’t do it again. I got caught up in the moment.” He presses his eyes shut and shakes his head. “Just forget I said it, okay? I don’t mean to pressure you. We’ll keep going slow. I’ll keep going at whatever pace you want. Just please don’t⁠—”

I kiss him. I moan softly into his mouth.

When we break apart, I look him in the eye. “I like that you called me your girlfriend.”