Chapter 11: The Drive Home
The car smelled like leather and his cologne.
Miri sat with her hands folded in her lap, her bare thighs pressed together beneath the hem of the blue dress. The fabric was wrinkled from a night on his floor, from being bunched around her waist, from everything they'd done. She could still feel the ghost of his hands on her hips, the weight of him inside her, the way he'd groaned her name like a prayer.
Now the dress felt different. Thinner. Every bump in the road sent a shiver up her spine, the fabric brushing against her bare cunt in ways that made her breath catch. She was still wet. Still swollen. Still aching.
The car pulled up to the curb outside her house.
Leo killed the engine.
They sat in silence for a moment. The house looked the same as always—white siding, cracked porch steps, a wind chime hanging from the eaves that hadn't made a sound in years. It was mid-morning now, the sun high and bright, and someone was mowing their lawn two streets over.
Normal. Everything was normal.
Except nothing was normal anymore.
Miri turned to him.
"Come inside."
Leo's head tilted. His jaw worked, like he was chewing on words he didn't want to say.
"Miri—"
"I'm serious." She reached for him, her fingers finding his forearm. "We can pick up where we left off. My roommates won't care. Chloe's probably still asleep anyway."
He looked at her.
Really looked.
His eyes were soft and dark, and there was something in them that made her chest ache—something careful, something worried.
"I can't," he said.
The words landed like a stone in her stomach.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to hurt you."
She blinked. "What?"
Leo rubbed the back of his neck. His shoulders were tense, his knuckles white against the steering wheel even though the car was off.
"I was too rough this morning. Last night too." He shook his head. "I lost control. I didn't—that's not how I wanted—"
"You didn't hurt me."
"You're sore."
"I'm supposed to be sore." She laughed, but it came out wrong. Nervous. "That's—that's what happens when—"
"I know what happens." His voice went low. "I know, Miri. And I'm not saying I regret it. I don't. But I've been thinking."
"Dangerous."
He almost smiled.
"I don't want to be the guy who fucks you against a door and then leaves. I don't want to be the guy who uses you for a night and forgets your name. You deserve more than that."
Her heart stuttered.
"Leo—"
"I'm not saying I don't want you." He turned in his seat, facing her fully. "I'm saying I want you too much. And I need to make sure I do this right."
She stared at him.
No one had ever said anything like that to her. No one had ever looked at her with that much care, that much intention, that much—
"You're serious."
"I'm serious."
She swallowed.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay." She nodded slowly. "I don't love it. But I get it."
His face softened. He reached for her, his thumb brushing her cheek.
"You're something else, you know that?"
"No. But I'm learning."
He kissed her.
Gentle. Soft. The kind of kiss that promised more without demanding it. She leaned into him, her hands finding his chest, and for a moment the whole world disappeared.
Then Leo pulled back.
"Come on," he said. "Let me walk you to the door."
He got out first, opening her door, offering his hand, waiting until she was steady before he let go.
A gentleman.
A goddamn gentleman who had fucked her over his desk.
The contradiction should have been confusing. It wasn't.
They walked up the path together. The grass was patchy from summer heat, and the porch creaked as they stepped onto it. Miri fished her keys out of her bag, but when she reached for the handle, the door swung open.
Chloe stood in the doorway.
Loose sweats. T-shirt. Hair in a messy bun that looked almost as chaotic as Miri's. Her arms were crossed, and her expression was...
Knowing.
"Well, well," Chloe said.
Miri's face caught fire.
"Chloe—"
"Don't." Chloe held up a hand. "Don't even try. I saw his car pull up. I saw the way you two were sitting there. And you're wearing the same dress from last night."
"So?"
"So where are your shoes?"
Miri looked down.
She was wearing her fuzzy pink socks.
She'd left her shoes somewhere in Leo's house—under the kitchen table, maybe, or near the door. She'd been so focused on getting out, on finding her bra, on not being seen by Ryan again, that she'd completely forgotten.
"I left them," she said weakly.
"Uh-huh." Chloe's gaze shifted to Leo. "And you're Leo, I assume."
"Guilty." He extended a hand. "You must be Chloe."
"The one and only." She shook it, but her eyes stayed sharp. "I've heard a lot about you."
"All terrible, I hope."
"Mostly." Chloe stepped back from the doorway. "You want to come in? I made coffee. Well. I made coffee an hour ago. It's cold now. But the offer stands."
Leo glanced at Miri.
She looked at him—really looked—and wished for the hundredth time that she could read his mind. She didn't want him to leave. Not yet. Not when everything still felt so new, so fragile, so impossible.
"I should go," he said.
"Yeah."
She walked through the door.
She didn't close it.
Leo stepped forward, his hand finding her waist, pulling her back out onto the porch. Chloe made a sound—something between a laugh and a sigh—but Miri ignored her.
He kissed her.
Not gentle this time.
His mouth crashed against hers, hot and demanding, and she melted into him. His tongue slid past her lips, and she tasted morning coffee and something sweeter underneath. His hands roamed—her back, her hips, her ass.
He gripped.
Hard.
Through the thin fabric of her dress, she felt every finger as they dug into her flesh. A reminder. A claim. A promise that this wasn't over.
She whimpered.
He swallowed the sound.
Somewhere behind them, Chloe cleared her throat.
They ignored her.
Chloe cleared it again.
Louder.
Leo finally pulled back. His forehead rested against Miri's, his breath hot and uneven.
"I'll call you," he said.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
One more kiss. Softer this time. A benediction.
Then he stepped back, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked to his car.
Miri watched him go.
He turned once—right before he opened the door—and waved. She waved back, feeling like an idiot, like a teenager, like she was floating about six inches off the ground.
Then the door closed. The engine turned over. The car pulled away.
Chloe grabbed her arm and yanked her inside.
"Okay," Chloe said. "Spill."
"Spill what?"
"Don't play dumb. You've been out all night. With Leo Castellano. The Leo Castellano. And you're wearing the same dress. And no shoes. And—"
She stopped.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Are you wearing underwear?"
Miri's face went scarlet.
"That's none of your business."
"That's a no." Chloe's jaw dropped. "That's a no! You're not wearing underwear! Oh my God. Oh my God, Miri. What happened?"
"Nothing."
"Bullshit."
"Chloe—"
"You disappeared yesterday and didn't come home and now you're doing the walk of shame in a dress with no underwear and you're telling me nothing happened?"
"I'm not doing a walk of shame."
"You absolutely are. But don't worry, I'm not judging. I'm celebrating. This is the best thing that's ever happened."
They were in the living room now. Chloe pushed Miri onto the couch and sat down across from her, legs crossed, elbows on her knees, chin in her hands.
"Talk," she said.
"It's not—"
"Miri."
She sighed.
"Fine."
She told her.
Not everything. Not the details. But enough.
The texts. Leo and her. The kiss in hia room. The way he'd looked at her like she was the only person in the room. The way he'd touched her.
Chloe's eyes got wider and wider.
"And?"
"And we—"
She couldn't say it.
"You had sex."
"Yes."
"Oh my God. Oh my God." Chloe jumped up from the couch. "Miri had sex! Miri Hayes, the girl who has never even held hands with a boy, had sex with Leo Castellano!"
"Can you keep it down?"
"No! This is amazing! This is the best day of my life!"
"It's not your life."
"Details." Chloe sat back down, grabbing Miri's hands. "Okay. I need specifics. Was it good? Was he—was he nice? Did he—"
"Chloe."
"What?"
Miri looked at her.
"I didn't just have sex with him."
Chloe's brow furrowed.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean—" She took a breath. "I mean he fucked me. Multiple times. All night. And this morning. And it was—"
She stopped.
"Go on."
"It was incredible."
Chloe's mouth fell open.
"Wait. Hold on. You're not—you're not still a virgin?"
"I was."
"Was?"
"Last night. I was."
Chloe pressed her hands to her face.
"This is—I can't—I need water. I need to process. You're telling me you lost your virginity to Leo Castellano and then had sex with him again this morning and then he just dropped you off like it was nothing?"
"It wasn't nothing."
"How do you know?"
"Because he said—"
She stopped.
"What did he say?"
Miri looked at her hands.
"He said he wants to do this right. He said I deserve more. He said—"
She paused.
"He said he wanted to make sure he wasn't just using me."
Chloe was quiet for a moment.
"That's... actually kind of sweet."
"I know."
"And you like him."
"I know."
"And you're going to see him again."
"I think so."
Chloe leaned back on the couch.
"Okay. Okay, I need more details. You can't just drop 'he fucked me all night' and leave it at that. I need the story. The whole story."
Miri flushed.
"You're going to make this weird."
"I'm going to make this amazing. Now talk."
So she talked.
She told her about his room.
His bed.
His mouth.
She told her about waking up in his jersey, about the pancakes, about Ryan walking in and Leo saying she wasn't a type, she was Miri.
Chloe's eyes glistened.
"That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard."
"It's not—"
"It is. Shut up."
She told her about the morning. The door. The desk.
When she got to the part about bending over and spreading her legs, Chloe held up a hand.
"Wait. Wait. You? You did that?"
"What?"
"You bent over his desk and told him to prove he could make you forget your name?"
"Something like that."
"Who are you? Who is this person? What have you done with my friend?"
Miri laughed.
"I don't know. I don't—I don't know what happened. It was like something took over. Like I wasn't me anymore."
"You were you. Just the you that's been hiding for twenty years."
"That's dramatic."
"That's true."
Miri looked at her.
"Was it stupid? Am I being stupid?"
"No."
"He could still hurt me. He could still be—he could still be the guy everyone says he is."
"He could be." Chloe shrugged. "But you know what? I've watched you hide for three years. I've watched you watch other people live their lives. I've watched you disappear into books and medieval trivia and that little bubble you built for yourself."
"That's my bubble."
"It's a tomb." Chloe leaned forward. "And you just crawled out of it. For a boy. For a really, really hot boy who seems to actually like you. So no. You're not being stupid. You're being brave."
"Brave?"
"The bravest thing you've ever done."
Miri sat with that.
She thought about last night—the way Leo had held her, kissed her, looked at her like she mattered. She thought about this morning—the way he'd held back, worried about her, tried to be good even when she was begging for him.
She thought about the way her body still ached.
The way she still wanted him.
"No more," Chloe said.
"No more what?"
"No more hiding."
"I'm not—"
"Chloe's right."
A new voice. Miri turned.
Jess stood in the kitchen doorway, still in her pajamas, holding a mug of coffee. Her hair was a wild cloud of curls, and her eyes were puffy from sleep.
"How long have you been there?" Miri asked.
"Long enough." Jess shuffled over and sat on the arm of the couch. "I heard the whole thing. The party. The sex. The desk."
Miri covered her face.
"Oh my God."
"Don't be embarrassed." Jess took a sip of coffee. "I think it's great. You deserve to be happy."
"I'm not—I'm not happy. I'm terrified."
"Same thing."
"That's not—"
"It kind of is." Jess shrugged. "The good stuff is always terrifying. That's how you know it matters."
Miri dropped her hands.
"You're both being very supportive."
"We're being realistic." Chloe stood. "You're Miri Hayes. You're brilliant and kind and weird in the best way. And some guy—some really, really hot guy—just spent an entire night and an entire morning making you feel good. If that's not worth chasing, I don't know what is."
Miri sat there.
She thought about the way Leo had kissed her forehead. The way he'd said her name. The way he'd looked at her like she was something precious.
"You're right," she said.
"I know."
"I should—I should call him. Or text him. Or—"
"Don't."
"What?"
Chloe grinned.
"Let him come to you. Trust me."
Miri looked at her phone.
It was sitting on the coffee table, dark and silent.
She wanted to reach for it. Wanted to text him. Wanted to say something witty or flirty or just... something.
But Chloe was right.
Let him come to you.
She leaned back on the couch.
"I can't believe I had sex."
"You had a lot of sex."
"Chloe."
"What? It's true. You told me. Multiple times. All night. And this morning. On a desk."
"In his jersey."
"I'm sorry, what?"
Miri laughed.
"Nothing."
"No, no, you said something about his jersey. You were wearing his jersey?"
"During."
"During what?"
"The desk thing."
Chloe's eyes bugged out.
"Okay. You need to start from the beginning again. Because I missed something. And I need every detail."
Jess settled in on the arm of the couch.
"Me too."
Miri looked at them—her friends, her roommates, her people—and felt something loosen in her chest.
She'd spent years hiding. Hiding behind books, behind her glasses, behind the safe walls of her own silence. She'd told herself it didn't matter if no one saw her, that she didn't need that, that being invisible was fine.
It wasn't fine.
It was lonely.
And now—for the first time—she felt seen.
By Leo. By Chloe. By Jess. By people who loved her, who wanted her to be happy, who looked at her and saw someone worth fighting for.
She took a breath.
"Okay," she said. "But you can't judge me."
"We won't."
"You will."
"We absolutely will," Jasmine said. "But we'll also love you. So it's fine."
Miri laughed.
She launched into the story again.
The bedroom. The way Leo had touched her, kissed her, fucked her.
The morning. The pancakes. Ryan.
The door.
The desk.
The way he'd held back. The way he'd promised to do right by her.
The way she'd watched him leave, standing on the porch in her socks, her dress still damp, her body still aching.
The way she'd already started to miss him.
By the time she finished, Chloe was crying and Jess was grinning, and Miri felt lighter than she had in years.
"Okay," Chloe said, wiping her eyes. "Okay. I have one question.
"What?"
"Are you going to take him to the library?"
Miri blinked.
"What?"
"The library. Your favorite place. Are you going to take him there?"
"I don't—I haven't thought about—"
"You should." Chloe nodded firmly. "You should take him to the library and show him all your medieval stuff and see if he still looks at you the way you say he does."
"He will."
"How do you know?"
Miri smiled.
She thought about Leo.
His hands. His mouth. His eyes.
The way he'd said her name—like it meant something, like she meant something.
"Because he already did," she said.
She reached for her phone.
Not to text him.
Just to hold it.
To wait.
To believe that in a few hours, or a few days, or however long it took, he would call.
And when he did, she'd be ready.