LEO’S POV
For days after my conversation with Cole, I hadn't been myself.
Day one, I told myself it was unfinished business.
Day four, I stopped sleeping.
Day seven, I stopped pretending the work in front of me was what I was looking at.
She was in my head the way nothing had ever been in my head before, specific and detailed and entirely resistant to being managed. The angle of her chin in a boardroom. The sound her heels made on marble floors. The way she pressed her thumb against her pen when she was calculating risk, like the pressure of it helped her think. The laugh that happened before she could stop it, low and startled and real, the one I'd heard exactly once in my kitchen over a shattered wine glass and had been reconstructing ever since.
I had built everything I had on the
