Page 56 of Words I Couldn't Say
Tucker:It’s not. But knowing that’s how your night will end, with my cock buried inside your pussy, makes it easier to know you’re spending the day with another man.
My cheeks flushed and my ladybits tingled and sent impulses to my brain saying,Woman, screw the Hollywood hottie and go get your man.
Me: Point taken. If I weren’t so aroused by the reminder of where I’ll be tonight, I’d kick your ass for acting jealous when you have no reason to be.
Tucker: Aroused? Fuck, that backfired. I’m banging my head against my desk right now.
Me: You should be banging me against your desk right now.
Tucker: Christ, woman. You’re going to be the death of me.
Me: You love it.
Tucker: Oh, Ava. You have no idea.
“Is this better?” Leo asked when he stepped back into the hallway.
Having discarded the travesty that was his original T-shirt, he was now wearing distressed jeans and a black button-up. He was sporting a red cap that hung low on his face and a pair of tennis shoes.
“Perfect!” I exclaimed.
He looked just like a fan taking in a game. You know, not counting the two bodyguards that followed his every move. His aviator glasses hid nearly half of his face. I knew he was trying to disguise himself, and he’d honestly done a pretty decent job at it. I was sure the last thing he wanted was a horde of fans accosting him at the ballpark, which was why I was thankful Lexi had gotten us a box to sit in and arranged for us to enter through an employee entrance.
“All right, Ava Banks. Show me your hometown.”
It was then I realized how much I hadn’t only missed my family or Tucker, but how much I had missed my city, too. “You got it.”
Though I’d been apprehensive, spending the day with Leo had turned out to be a fantastic time. Although he’d wrinkled his nose up at the thought of Cincinnati chili, he’d fallen in love with the delicacy and ended up ordering two more coneys after the first inning. The game was incredible, and we tossed local brews back while watching the Reds continue their hot streak that brought them even closer to having a record-breaking season. After the game ended, Leo marveled at the sight of the Roebling Bridge lit up and dazzling in all of its glory in the cool September air. When he asked if we could walk along the river, I gladly accepted, needing to walk off some of the delicious ballpark food we’d inhaled.
It was unbelievable how easy of a friendship we’d fallen into over the course of the day. Leo was so incredibly normal for someone who’d won two Academy Awards by the time he was twenty-four. His down-to-earth personality made him easy to talk to. We shared experiences in the industry—his much more exciting than mine. We didn’t just talk business, either. He seemed genuinely interested in knowing more about me, asking me question after question, and smiling knowingly when I told him about Tucker and gave him a very abridged version of our story without the sad parts.
“This has been a lovely day, Ava,” he said. “I appreciate your agreeing to do this. Experiencing the magic of the ballpark, the intensity of the game—especially the pitching—is definitely going to make it easier to get into Trevor’s head.”
“It was as fun for me as it was for you. Everyone should experience this city with their very own local tour guide.” I playfully shoulder-checked him. “Ready to leave the hustle and bustle of L.A. and settle down out here in the Midwest?” I teased.
He chuckled. “Not gonna lie. It’s pretty damn tempting. Layla would love it here. She loves the city, but she’s ready to settle down and raise our family far away from Hollywood. So am I.”
Yes, the Hollywood heartthrob Leo Lockwood was spoken for, and even from an outsider’s perspective, it was evident he was wildly in love with his wife. The way his eyes lit up when he spoke of her was endearing, and I couldn’t wait to meet her.
“So, Leo, you’ve learned all about me and my hometown today. Why don’t you tell me more about you and how you becamePeople’s Sexiest Man Alivethree years in a row?”
He gave me a wry grin. “You mean you haven’t Wiki’ed me?” he asked, feigning shock.
I laughed. “I wouldn’t have to. My best friend, Tawni, practically has your bio memorized. But I don’t want the Internet facts. If we’re going to be friends, I want to get to know the real Leo Lockwood.”
“Friends? I’d like that.” He smiled with warm, friendly affection. “Well, let’s see. Where to start? I suppose at the beginning. My parents were vacationing in Paris when my mother was nearly six months along with me. They’d recently found out I had the anatomy of the male variety and couldn’t agree on a name. According to my father, they fought like cats and dogs over it. Until, one day, they were standing at the Louvre, admiring some da Vinci painting, when I kicked my mother’s belly profusely. It was a sign, she proclaimed. I would be Leonardo Lockwood, and if my father didn’t like it, he could go through nine months of pregnancy and then labor if he wanted to name the baby.”
I frowned. “Umm, Leo?” I interrupted his story.
He paused, and by the sheepish grin on his face, I could tell he knew he’d been caught.
“That sounds suspiciously similar to Leonardo DiCaprio’s naming story.”
“Damn, you know that one?”
I nodded.
His shoulders shrank. “The truth is I’mactuallynamed after DiCaprio.”
