At the threshold of her bedroom, she stood, gaze locked on the box which Leonard held like it was some kind of peace offering.
Her breath tripped in her throat. What was this?
She stared at the box, her mind racing, but she didn’t reach for it. Part of her wanted to snatch it from his hand, to open it, and see what was inside. But the rational part of her - the part that was still mad and still hurt - kept her rooted in place. She was supposed to be mad at him, not giddy over some stupid box.
But it wasn’t just the box that caught her attention.
There was something else too — another parcel, the kind you only get from a designer store when you’ve just dropped a serious amount of cash. Typical Leonard. Feeling an ounce of curiosity and suspicion. 'What now?'
"You’re just going to stan
