After a few nights of confused and lonely thoughts—Leo was out of town for interviews and promotion for his upcoming solo album—I woke up one morning weirdly rejuvenated. An epiphany struck me as I peered to my side, at the empty space where Leo would have been. And it was Leo I pictured there, not Cameron, not some other blurry figure staring back at me.

I huffed as I remembered the boxes I'd just unpacked, just put away.

"I'll be using them again soon, won't I?" Hugging my pillow to my chest, I glanced out the window, the curtains parted to reveal a cloudy fall morning in New York City. I was high enough that I couldn't see below, but tips of skyscrapers in the distance contrasted the chunks of gray over the sky.

That was it, I'd decided. I would move in with Leo.

"Might as well," I said to myself as I grabbed my phone from its charger and padded over to the kitchen, where my morning coffee awaited. "I'm his girlfriend, his arm candy. That's all I'll ever be known for."

It was a depressing thought for this early in the day—it was seven-thirty—but it was a truthful one. I'd sent out a few more resumes to a few leads from Daphne, but they were either returned to me with polite rejections or ignored. The dejection had set in after that fucked-up alley-way interview, so it didn't hurt me as deeply to admit to myself that I needed help.

I would move in with Leo and ask him for work, too.

"Ugh," I grumbled as I poured fresh coffee into my favorite mug, "I fucking hate this." My entire idea of being independent and not needing assistance getting into the field of my dreams was ruined. Daphne was right, Leo was right, and I hated to concede it to either of them, but I'd have no choice.

As I sat at my counter, gaping out the floor-to-ceiling windows showing Central Park below, I sighed, unlocked my phone, and texted Leo the "good" news.

***

It all happened so fast—as it tended to, with anything concerning Leo. Hours after I texted him that I accepted to move in with him, hordes of his assistants came to pack all my shit up again. I insisted they leave some stuff here—it was still my place, after all, since he'd purchased it for me—but for the most part, everything I owned was tossed into a moving truck, and raced across town to Leo's place.

To our place. It would have been more significant had we bought a pad together, but with my current financial predicament, that wouldn't happen any time soon.

To my surprise, Belle was among the staff coming to take my things. But she focused on the closet, packing up my clothes with the utmost care, and hardly spoke a word to me. And I was so stressed overseeing the whole situation that we had no time to exchange any of our snark or send any scathing glares at one another.

Leo came home a few days later and surprised me as I was in one of the spare bedrooms, removing clothes that Belle had cautiously folded into a box. Leo and I couldn't share a closet—his, no matter how large, had no space for all my stuff. But there were other walk-ins in other rooms, and his staff assured me I could use whichever I wanted.

So I picked the bedroom closest to his, its soft blue theme reminiscent of a baby boy's room, but with larger furniture and touches of adult-themed posters and memorabilia. Somewhat peculiar, but I wouldn't complain—the walk-in closet was empty.

I heard his footsteps and braced myself to jump into his arms as he crept into the room, likely thinking to surprise me. I spun slowly, struggling to contain my smile. "Hey, you—"

He wasn't smiling, nor did he look as ecstatic to see me as I'd expected, considering I'd agreed to move in with him, and we hadn't seen each other in about a week.

"Hey," he thrust his phone up to my face, a blurry picture on the screen. Well, blurry because he brought it so close, I couldn't see properly. "What the fuck is this?"

I leaned backwards and took the phone from him. "Hello to you too, roomie." I shook my head, brushing off his moodiness as exhaustion; all the traveling and interviews tended to frustrate him. Then I lifted the screen and glanced at it, my breaths hitching in my chest.

It was a picture of Cameron and I, inside that damn coffee shop, hugging.

Fuck.

Some asshole patron from the coffee shop had seen us and didn't refrain from snapping a few pictures to eagerly send over to paparazzi. Great, more reasons to give that jerk of a reporter to write that Leo and I weren't really together.

"Uh," I handed him back the phone, fumbling for excuses, "yeah, that was the day of that messed up interview."

"And?" He didn't put the phone away, keeping it clutched in his grasp, his arms lowering to his sides. His face was red, his eyes were red, everything about him burned red. I'd never seen him like this—a volcano about to explode but doing all in its power to not let loose yet. "Why were you with him? Why were you hugging?" Strangely, his voice wasn't as enraged as I'd have anticipated, based on his body language. He was quiet, almost; stern, on the brink of eruption, but holding himself back.

"We b-bumped into each other," I admitted, stammering more than I'd want to when trying to defend myself. I sounded guilty, probably looked guilty too. My cheeks were heating up and sweat gathered at the top of my forehead. "It was after I ran out of that building and was kind of wandering and found this cute coffee shop. I hadn't seen him coming out of it, and we, I bumped into him, literally."

His eyes narrowed, but he didn't move. As in, not a single muscle twitched, and it was actually more frightening than if he'd lunged forward and grabbed me. "Okay? But why were you hugging?"

I gulped. "Because we...talked. His coffee spilled all over him after the bump-in, and we both went inside—me to escape the people outside, and him to get a refill of coffee. And then he asked to talk to me, to apologize. I...couldn't say no, so I heard him out." My words flew out at miles a minute, but Leo was waiting, patiently watching my mouth as I spoke. He wouldn't interrupt. "He explained everything, and though I told him I would never forgive him, we agreed to keep things," I winced, deciding against saying we were friends, "cordial. No seeing each other, no texting, but if we're in the same circles, we're bound to see each other, and there's no need to be hostile, right?"

I had a hard time looking at his eyes. They were dark, the same shade they turned when he was aroused and about to plunge his face between my legs to devour me. But his nostrils were flared, and he was baring his teeth as if about to snarl.

As quickly as the rage had surfaced, it disappeared. His tension lessened, and the redness on his skin lightened as he shoved his phone into his pocket. He shrugged a hand through his hair and sighed. "Why didn't you tell me? You explained everything about the interview and the running off, but this whole Cameron part," he flinched, "you left out. Why?"

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out; at least, not right away. "I..." I inhaled, exhaled. "Because I didn't think it was important. All he did was apologize, and I appreciated it, but that was that. The hug?" I waved dismissively. "A misunderstanding. I didn't want him to hug me, but he was kind of in the way when I was leaving..."

Lies. I absolutely walked into that hug and let it happen. I absolutely sniffed at his scent and was reminded of better times with him, of days when we lay together in perfect silence, no need to speak. Leo always needed to fill the air with words.

"Okay." He blew out a shaky breath. "Okay, so then—" His eyes widened at something behind me, and he gently shoved me aside to get closer to whatever it was. He looked like he'd seen a ghost or a spider or something.

I whipped around, witnessing him make a beeline towards one of my boxes—the one with old Halloween costumes I wanted to keep because of my hoarding tendencies.

"Oh my gosh," he said, every ounce of his earlier anger completely gone from his voice. He bent down, plucked something from the box, then straightened up, his back to me. "This is...it's..."

I couldn't see what he'd grabbed, but there was nothing good in that pile; nothing that I'd want him to see and mock me for. I'd dressed up as a lot of strange crap over the years, sometimes having several costumes for one year—several parties to attend—and I'd kept all of them.

"This is," he repeated, spinning on his heel to show me what he'd found, "so fucking random, but I love it."

I flushed as I realized he'd discovered my super skimpy Wizard of Oz Dorothy costume; one with a skirt so high up it basically showed my ass in all its glory. I remembered partying with that one and struggling to dance without flashing everyone. Once I was drunk, I didn't care.

"Um," I bit my lower lip, "I have eccentric tastes in Halloween costumes?"

He held up the dress, walking closer to me. There was that look in his eye again, but without the rage, this time. This time, it was lust.

"Wondering why you fell in love with me now?" I chewed on the insides of my cheeks as he got closer, shaking the outfit, ridding it of clouds of years of dust.

"No," he said, his voice low and breathy, "more like wondering what you look like in this, and how soon I can get it off you. You remember I was once—"

A realization hit me so hard in the torso I almost fell backwards. "Tin man! Yes, that song from your first solo round!"

He smirked at me. "I love how you remember every album I've ever recorded. Well," he licked his lower lip before biting down on it, slowly, "I almost dressed up as the Tin man for that video, actually. And I've always had a soft spot for Dorothy."

"Yeah?" I batted my lashes at him, though I had to confess it was a tad odd for him to change the subject so quickly. He was so livid, borderline explosive when he confronted me with the picture; now he wanted to get flirty and cute?

"Put it on," he said, sliding the fabric into my grip. It was made of that thick blue tulle one found on a child's Halloween costume, only trimmed for an adult woman's luscious body. "Put it on, and let's play. Pretend I'm the Tin man, pretend I'm human now, and you've been giving me those eyes for weeks, and finally...finally we can fuck each other's brains out."

Not flirty and cute—no, he wanted sex. He was channeling his anger into sex.

As conflicted as I was—our conversation about me seeing Cameron wasn't over, was it?—I had to recognize that seeing him so turned on by a costume got me turned on, too. And I hadn't gotten laid the night I wore it—I was way too trashed and ended up crashing on a friend's couch—so it was time to rectify that mistake.

I went into the closet, shucked off my leggings and sweater, and pulled the dress on. It was tighter than last time I'd put it on, but if anything, that made it compress my boobs and stop even closer to my ass, which would drive him crazy.

I opened the closet door, and peered around like a confused Dorothy who'd just landed in Oz. "Oh, Toto, where are you?"

He was already half naked—shirt, shoes, and socks off—as he stormed up to me, his mouth open, his tongue on display as it roved in his mouth. "I'm no Toto, but I'm here." He zoned in on my cleavage spilling over the bustier, then down to my thighs, barely concealed by the blue fabric. "I'm the Tin man, free of my enclosure, and I want you so bad, Dorothy."

I perceived his erection through his tight jeans, the muscles of his firm abs clenching as he traced a finger down my neck, then between my breasts.

"Hmm, Tin man, is that really you?" I trickled my fingers along the lines of his hardness, watching his breath hitch at my touch.

Things got out of hand fairly fast from there.

He slipped a finger under the dress and into my slit, and moaned at the wetness that awaited him. Twirling his fingertip into me, he grinned as I could barely stand up, so aroused by him touching me. He tickled at my folds and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

"Mm, sweet Dorothy, you're so wet for me, aren't you?"

"Oh, Tin man...I want you to fuck me," I said, batting my lashes, playing along.

He growled as he slammed the guest bedroom door shut, and all but ripped the dress off me before removing his jeans and showing me how hard he was for me, beneath his tight black boxers.

Those boxers were gone in a flash, and he revealed that delicious cock of his all propped up and ready for me.

He saw me ogling it and grabbed it to stroke it a few times while licking his lips, teasing me. "Do you want this gift, sexy Dorothy?"

I replied by creeping my fingers into my wetness and nearly making myself come on the spot. "I do, Tin man. Give me all of you. I've wanted you for so long—"

He didn't give me a chance to finish as he took me in his arms and carried me off. The guest bed was smaller than his, but comfortable enough for what we wanted to do. Clearly we'd missed each other more than we wanted to admit, as he fucked me hard and fast a first time, then slower and sensually a second time. How he knew to have condoms in this room, I wouldn't dare guess, but I was thankful we didn't have to switch locations, which might have ruined the mood.

A mood I hadn't expected at all, not after he'd found that picture. And while he pounded into me, making me come beyond my wildest fantasies, I couldn't help wondering why he'd shifted the subject so abruptly. Eager to move past our disagreement? Not wanting confrontation longer than needed? Or too lustful towards me that he couldn't stay mad for long?

In our second round, I started thinking of why I'd hidden it from him in the first place. There was nothing to be ashamed of, nothing he'd be angry at. He'd asked me to forgive Cameron, and I hadn't, but I'd allowed him a hug. An innocent gesture to say, okay, we're good.

As Leo thrusted, demanding that I scream his name as I came—and I did—I couldn't stop imagining Cameron sitting there watching us, shaking his head, and asking me why I was hiding things from my beloved Leo. Things that made no sense to hide.

♪♪♪