"Oh, shit."

When Cameron uttered those words, I usually associated them with Leo. "Oh, shit, he's calling" or "oh, shit, he needs me" were what followed, most days. There were the occasional times when he uttered it as he was cumming, or when I hit a spot while giving him head that got him to the brink of bursting.

But we weren't having sex, at that moment. And he didn't follow the shit up with anything else; he seized his phone from where it had been vibrating like crazy on the table, and got up from his seat.

We were dining out at a hip Latine restaurant in the East Village, not far from his apartment. It had been another particularly rough week for both of us in our jobs, and he'd told me what he planned to do to me tonight in bed. I was licking my lips, rolling my tongue in my mouth, excited to get his clothes off—

And now he hurdled out the restaurant door, smacking his phone to his cheek as he grumbled.

A few patrons watched him, then turned to me as if I'd been the one to send him flying off. I shrugged, focusing on my meal, waiting for him to come back and complain about Leo's neediness. And oh, boy, was the man needy.

Since Cameron and I had started seeing each other, Leo had interrupted countless dates with his need to talk over this or that matter. Most nights it was over a song lyric that was bugging him or not ringing right, or a newspaper headline that he wasn't sure how to interpret.

Cameron was correct when he'd once joked about being Leo's unofficial therapist. Leo called him most out of everyone on his staff, whether it was with a concern that Cameron was technically supposed to handle or not.

Sometimes, all Cameron had to do was relay a message to the appropriate employee who handled whatever Leo was freaking out about. Sometimes, he had to go to Leo's townhouse and deescalate whatever the situation was. Deescalating involved a heavy amount of booze and a few puffs of a joint, sometimes tears, yelling, from time to time a few slaps on the face—Leo slapping Cameron, or Cameron slapping Leo.

It was a toxic work relationship, but I had no say in it. Things were going so well with Cameron, I preferred to keep my mouth shut.

From the look on Cameron's face when he returned to the table five minutes later, tonight would be one of the latter options—the drinking, smoking, fighting one.

"I have to go," he said, fishing out his wallet, huffing. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, okay." I planted my feet and wiped my mouth with my napkin, bracing to leave with him. "Should we get to-go boxes?"

"No, you stay." He gestured at me to sit down, and handed me his AMEX—the fancy black one he'd used for our first date. I hadn't seen him settle any bills since that night; he'd started doing it discreetly so I wouldn't see, and so I wouldn't argue with him over paying my portion. "You don't have to go anywhere. Take your time, finish your food, have another drink,. Then you can take a cab back to my place." He gave me his keys, too. "I have no idea how long this is going to be. He's...upset."

I tried not to roll my eyes. "Do you need me to go with you?" The other diners had quit looking at me, but I could tell they were trying to eavesdrop on the conversation. "Anything I might be able to help with? A woman's perspective, maybe."

"No, absolutely not." He waved a hand frantically, as if I'd said something that had offended him. "Trust me, it's better if you don't see him like this. Or me, for that matter. It gets ugly when I have to talk him off a ledge like this. Stay." He hurried around the table and kissed my cheek, his spicy scent filling my nostrils. I got a quick look at his eyes—bright and watery from the peppery dish he'd been eating. "I'll be home hopefully not too late."

I'll be home, he said. As if his apartment were my apartment, as if we lived together. My extremities tingled as I watched him wander off, shoving his phone into his back pocket, shaking his mane of dark hair as he grunted something about Leo being an annoying prick.

It was a Friday night, almost exactly one week after we'd made our relationship official. Something ominous (a feeling, Daphne would say) told me that that status change had something to do with Leo's meltdown tonight. But why would he care about Cameron's relationship with me, and why interrupt our meal to talk about it?

I got my confirmation when Leo came stumbling in at around eleven o'clock. I was on his couch, catching up on some reality TV show he wasn't a fan of. He stopped in the living room doorway, squinting at me, scrubbing his face as if he'd just woken up from a painful nap.

I turned the TV off. "Hey, you okay?" He threw his phone on the coffee table then fell onto the sofa, face-first, landing close to me. He mumbled something into the cushions. "What was that?"

"Ugh," he lifted his head, "Leo knows."

He didn't have to explain it to me—I understood his meaning immediately.

Leo knew about our relationship.

After we'd made our boyfriend-girlfriend situation official on our social media, he gave me the heads up that in a matter of minutes, Leo would find out about it. And he'd ask questions. I'd tried to claim that Leo had to be too busy to check his Instagram or Facebook feeds like us regular humans did, but Cameron assured me I was wrong. But what would it matter, anyway? Wasn't Cameron allowed to date? Or did Leo have a say in his private relationships?

I liked Leo, I loved his music, but the more time I spent with Cameron, the more I realized Leo was a tad spoiled, a tad conceited, and very time-consuming. He demanded attention, he detested being ignored, and required constant surveillance.

I wasn't sure if one week was fast in Leo's world, or if that meant we'd evaded his prying by some miracle; but from Cameron's dejected features and slumped body, whatever they'd discussed that night wasn't good.

"Okay." I tugged on his shirt to get him to sit up straight, so we could talk face-to-face. "You said this would happen, but we didn't discuss what it means, so can you explain what comes next?"

His eyes were glossy, and now that he had propped himself up, I detected a familiar odor of weed on him. I didn't mind if he smoked; on the contrary, I was all for the legalization of most drugs. But for him to come home reeking of it didn't bode well to me.

"He's been asking questions," he said, slurring his words—which meant there might have been some alcohol involved, too. And sure enough, I got a whiff of his breath—definitely liquor-like, most likely tequila or brandy.

What the heck did Leo do to him, or with him? He left me at the restaurant at seven-thirty. Now, four hours later, he looked like he'd drank half a liquor store and smoked all the marijuana within a considerable distance. It was one thing for him to destress and relax with friends, but this was work. Leo had taken him away from me to get him intoxicated?

"Like, all week. Questions, questions, questions." He hiccuped. "He's known this whole time, even before our social media thing. But he only confronted me about it tonight. That's why I had to go. He was," he rubbed the back of his neck, "insistent. Wanted an explanation."

I frowned. "I get that he's your boss, but do you owe him anything? Is it actually his business to know who you're dating and since when?"

"It is," he gulped, "when I'm being so damn obvious and distracted about it. I've been all lovey-dovey, you know? And also when he thinks I've been purposely hiding it from him."

"Which you have been?" He never confirmed it for me, but I'd had my doubts since the morning he'd asked me to cover myself up while he was on a FaceTime chat with Leo. He was hiding, but I'd never figured out why.

"Well..." He flashed me a toothy, goofy grin. "Yeah, I have been. I'm sorry. But I have my reasons, I swear. I'm not embarrassed by you or anything, it's that...if he knows about you, that means he has to meet you."

"Has to?" My heartbeat picked up—out of anger at Leo's assumptions, or mild excitement at the notion of meeting him, I couldn't tell. "Is he that demanding that you introduce him to everyone in your entourage?"

Yes, I wanted to meet Leo. Obviously, since I'd bought super expensive VIP backstage tickets for an exclusive meet-and-greet with him. But a part of me wanted to keep that desire a secret. If Cameron knew how much I was squirming on the inside at the idea of meeting Leo, he'd be upset. Possibly jealous. The last thing I wanted to do was disappoint this wonderful man I was lucky enough to call my boyfriend.

"Here's the thing." He took my hands in his and squeezed. His were clammy, almost wet with sweat; mine were soft and moisturized. He was sweating on his forehead, too, and above his lip. "I'm...ugh."

"Hey." I used the sleeve of my t-shirt to wipe above his brow, and then caressed his cheek. "What's the big deal here? It's all good, you can talk to me."

"You don't understand." He wasn't aggressive, but his voice took on a deeper, irritated tone. "My life revolves around him. I'm his personal assistant, but also his secretary, and his bodyguard, and his best friend, and his therapist. If I'm dating someone, and it's something serious, he has to know."

I extracted my hands from his and leaned back in my spot. "So he's that involved in your life, huh?"

"He is. I'm sorry." He blew out a breath and lowered his feet to the ground. "But that's how my life is, how it'll always be as long as I work for him. Leo is...everything, and I'm at his whim."

"Then why do you—" I cut myself off, not wanting us to get into an argument over nothing. This was his career, his life; and in any case, why was I fighting this? I wanted to meet Leo, and this was the opportunity. "So you're saying he wants to meet me?"

He fell sideways, setting his head in my lap. "Yes. He's making a big deal about it, and I'm complaining but...it means a lot to me, too. As annoying as he can be, he's an important part of my life, and I of his. So if you're in my life...you're in his, too."

My heart raced faster, if that was possible. "Okay. If it matters that much, then we'll make it happen. So...when? Where? How does this work?"

He heaved himself up from my lap and rearranged his messy hair. "I'll work on those details. We'll have to coordinate between all our schedules. Don't worry about a thing." He got to his feet, but wobbled a bit before he was able to balance himself. What did they drink? "I need a shower."

"Do you need help?" I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively, but he declined my offer with a smirk. "Fine, I'll wait for you here."

He made his way towards the stairs, and I admired his beautiful behind; but he spun to me before he reached the steps. "Head's up—Leo is a super hands-on kind of guy."

I flinched. "Hands-on? What does that mean?"

Did that mean Leo got handsy, liked to touch people he came in contact with? Or was that a subtle way of saying he was super controlling?

"He likes to know who his employees and friends are dating, and he likes to know them well." He grimaced as he dragged a hand down his face. "This is why I tried to hide it, to delay it. He'll ask you a lot of questions, and he won't care how uncomfortable they make you."

"Oh?" I was used to being grilled by men who had no taste for decency; that was called dating and having a sex-life in your twenties. But this was Leo Lee we were talking about. How deep would his questions be, and how much of them would I be willing to answer? "He doesn't scare me."

Cameron used a hand to hold himself up against the wall. "He should. In the past, when he has met my significant others, it didn't turn out well. For me, or them."

"That's ominous." I squinted at him. "What does he do, eat them? Is he a secret cannibal or something?"

Cameron scoffed. "Believe it or not, that'd be easier to explain. Let's just say I've had a few relationships fall through after Leo got in the middle of them."

"Why? Did all your girlfriends and boyfriends hate him that much?" I scrunched my nose. "I find that hard to believe. Didn't you declare he was a nice dude underneath his moodiness? What could he do that would be such an issue?"

"No, it's not that." Cameron folded his arms and looked at his shoes. "He liked them too much, and it was intimidating. Suffocating. Leo has an addiction to people, he forms attachments easily. And you?" He huffed. "He'll devour you, and not in a cannibalistic sense. I meant it when I said I was hiding you from him for a reason, Emma."

He left me with that, sauntering up the stairs like a drunken bear through a heavily wooded area.

I grabbed a couch pillow and hugged it to me. Leo Lee, devouring me? What the fuck was that about? An awkward sensation bubbled up in my gut, and I turned the TV back on, needing something to distract my thoughts.

Leo Lee might like me? No, no way, I wouldn't believe it until I saw it. If I even saw it; from Cameron's reaction, I wondered if he'd ever let us come near one another.

But as I fixed my gaze on the couple arguing on the screen, I smirked. Leo Lee, lead singer of SMASH, one of my all-time favorite bands, meeting me, seeing me up close, and being interested in me? How cool would that be?

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