UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL by Jayson Leigh
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent.
Author's Note: thoughts, comments, etcetera... jmleighwrites@gmail.com
Chapter 7
Once More with Feeling
Glasses chinked, plates clattered and the buzz of conversation around Leo grew louder still. Three weeks, he'd been in New York and today was his first public appearance. It still felt too soon. This was one of his favorite restaurants, unfortunately it was located in a busy hotel hence the large crowd still dining late at night.
He looked down at his nearly empty plate and tried to remember what his meal had tasted like. He couldn't recall. He gulped down water, looking away from a dark haired man who was staring intently. What did people hope to see? Scars from his suicide attempt? He'd taken pills. There were no visible effects for crying out loud.
"Are you okay?" Paul asked.
"You need to stop asking me that."
"Everyone's watching you."
"You noticed."
Paul nodded. "We could leave if you want-"
"I can't hide away forever. Stein finally signed my release and I'm going back on tour. I might as well get used to the gawking now."
Paul drained the rest of his seltzer water. "I'm getting dessert. Care for anything?"
Leo pointedly stared back at the man watching him. The man blinked first then looked away shamefully. He turned to Paul. "Scotch and soda, tall glass, lots of ice."
Paul glared at him for a moment then beckoned a waiter. He ordered coffee for both of them.
"You'd said the tour could be rescheduled... pushed back, if I wanted...?"
Paul was silent, considering the question carefully. "What are you saying?"
"I'm just wondering... I wouldn't mind some time..."
There were a few moments of silence before Paul said softly, "We've got too much riding on this. Stein's given you a clean bill of health and if you pull out now, Christ, the lawsuits... Atlantis will be on you for breach of contract and Perry will have both our heads. Then there are tour advertisers and sponsors who need to recoup their investments, not to talk of the fans..."
"So that's a no, then?"
Paul snorted. "Yeah, that's about right."
Leo looked away.
"But you're okay, though, right? You're ready to work?"
What did it matter? Leo wondered. He gazed out the restaurant's all-glass exterior wall which overlooked the front way of the hotel. He had earlier observed quite a number of town cars and limousines pulling up to let out elegant couples in black-tie attire. He assumed there was some sort of event in the hotel's ballroom and couldn't help but wish he could get over himself and be as carefree as the invited guests cheerfully making their way in there.
"We could get you back into treatment when the tour's over."
Leo poured cream in his coffee and stirred slowly.
"Pine Valley Detox; it's in Idaho. I heard good things about it. Trevor Stone did a stint there a couple of years ago."
Leo rolled his eyes derisively. "Look how well that turned out." Trevor Stone was the lead singer of an eighties rock band who'd been killed the previous year in a car accident.
"Pine Valley maintains that he was successfully treated for prescription med abuse not alcohol which led to his death-"
"You bought that...?"
Paul shrugged. "It's a nice place. I think you'd like it. Thousand-acre ranch, isolated from just about everything. They've got mountains, horses..."
"Do I look like a fucking cowboy to you?"
Paul laughed, coughing slightly when his sip of coffee went down the wrong way. "You don't have to make a decision now. I'll put some brochures together."
Leo hummed, staring idly around the room then locking gazes with a woman just two tables away who seemed to have been poured into a cleavage bearing dress. She looked twice his age with a mass of curly brunette hair which she twirled seductively around her fingers. She batted her eyelashes and licked her lips suggestively. He looked away quickly.
"Back to LA tomorrow?" he asked with a definite hint of sadness in his voice.
"Yeah," Paul said shortly. "We owe them one more show then we're off."
He noticed that the brunette a few tables away was still watching him intently, but she wasn't alone anymore. Her companion, an attractive blonde was now watching him closely. Great. It was time, he decided, to end the freak show.
"I'm leaving," he told Paul.
"Sure, I'll take care of the check."
He left the table and began making his way out, ignoring whispers that grew steadily louder as he walked across the restaurant.
Once out the door, he noticed the entrance to the ballroom which was indeed hosting an event. A sign next to the doorway revealed that it was the annual gala for The Henry Keating Memorial AIDS Foundation. He stole a glance inside and was just turning away when he noticed a slight, blond figure in the corner of his eye.
He blinked; unsure of what he'd seen. A man's back, dressed in a perfectly fitted tuxedo as he disappeared into the restroom. He wanted to walk away but a maniacal voice yelled in his head to go after him.
What were the odds he reasoned, that of all the hotels in New York City, Shane Roderick would walk into his own?
He turned in the direction of the restroom, walked there quickly before he thought too hard about his decision. At the door, he paused and took in a deep breath, then pushed it open.
"...did you hear about the tornado down in Kansas?"
"How bad?"
"Record breaking I hear..."
"...look at him. He's drooling at her feet."
"Ugh. I think he just met his next ex-wife."
"I hear wife number three got zilch in the divorce settlement..."
"...let me get this straight, you didn't get the role and now you're screwing her?
"She's casting the next Carson Cox movie. I'd be crazy to turn her down!"
"That's bullshit. So what's it like fucking your grandma?"
"She's kind of hot; Google her. I think she got some work done. She used to be a beauty queen back in the day..."
Shane made his way across the crowded ballroom, nodding, smiling and acknowledging a growing number of acquaintances. He needed a refill and refused to get dragged into any more inane conversations until he was sufficiently buzzed. Putting up with this crowd and their brand of industry gossip required a distinct lack of sobriety. Spying a waiter, finally, he slid his lithe frame with ease between packed bodies and replaced his empty flute with another champagne filled glass.
The gala was in full swing, attractive people in black tie, flowing gowns and glittering diamonds milled around while the band played yet another Billy Joel cover. Where was Jen? He wondered. They should probably start a drinking game; one drink every time Up Town Girl came on and two for Piano Man. An opening among the crowd of people revealed his producer, Trent McCarthy slow dancing with a new intern.
"Trent's going to get us sued one of these days," a voice muttered behind Shane. With a wide grin, he turned around to face his best friend dressed to the nines in a slinky dress and from the looks of it, a drink or two away from falling flat on her face.
Shane plucked a tall glass from her fingers and replaced it with his half-drunk champagne flute. He said teasingly, "You don't think he's really in love with this one? They do seem like a match made in heaven."
Jenny rolled her eyes. Warm light from the overhead chandeliers cast a glow on her face, making her green eyes flash dangerously as she leaned in to speak emphatically. "They all think he's their ticket to the big leagues. Like they'll blow him and bam, he'll put them on TV. I swear I was never that naïve."
"That's because you're an old soul," Shane said before taking a sip of her cocktail and regretting it instantly. "What the hell is this?"
Jenny shrugged, her loose red curls catching the light with every shake of her shoulders. "I don't know, but I've had three and they get better as they go down."
Shane took another sip of the poison-disguised-as-a-cocktail; it burned his throat going down so he handed it back to Jenny, retrieving his own champagne. "Tastes like one part vodka, two parts gasoline, and an ounce of regret. You're going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow morning."
"Good thing we don't shoot tomorrow so I can sleep in. Shouldn't you be busy doing your spokesperson duties? Wringing high-rollers for more donations or something? I swear I saw Rowan somewhere..." She said with a wave of her hand around the ballroom.
"Yeah, he's here but Dominic couldn't make it. Aidan's come down with the flu or something."
Jenny arched a brow. "They couldn't get a sitter?"
"Maybe it's serious."
"That never stopped Dom partying in the past."
He threw her a look and she shrugged. "It's just odd, that's all."
Shane sighed. "I haven't called him recently but he did text a photo of them in their boat out in Montauk. Since he rsvp'd I thought for sure I'd see him tonight."
"You should call him," she said.
Shane made a mental note to do just that then allowed her link her arm with his and steer him towards the dance floor.
As the spokesperson of the Henry Keating Memorial AIDS Foundation, Shane had been in schmooze mode all night, hugging, kissing, and milking contributions from the well-heeled attendees. He'd called in favors from many of his celebrity friends and he could only hope that their generosity would match their enthusiasm as this was the charity's biggest fundraising event of the year.
An extremely well-preserved woman in her sixties, elegant with strands of diamonds dripping from her ears and throat waved at him. He made his excuses to Jen who shimmied her way to the dance floor and took a turn towards the woman waiting for him, narrowly dodging a tipsy guest with a very loose grip on his cocktail glass.
Melinda Keating held out her arms, exclaiming, "I think we just might do it."
Shane walked into the embrace, allowing the older heiress place a tender kiss on his cheek. "Do what exactly, Mel?" he inquired.
"Cole says we're blowing last year's donations out of the water."
Amused, he turned to the CEO of the foundation with a raised eyebrow. Melinda was prone to exaggerations every now and then.
"Not quite," Cole pronounced. "I just came in from the backroom, and even though the accountants aren't done totaling the auction bids yet, we're already slightly ahead of last year. Your industry friends came through. The foundation's going to get so much done this year because of you. I could kiss you right now."
Shane dearly hoped he wouldn't. "I didn't do anything," he said self deprecatingly. "Melinda should get all the credit for planning such a splendid event."
"That's kind of you honey. My Henry would've been so proud," Melinda said with a soft sigh. "Next week would've been his thirty fifth birthday." She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a tissue. I can't believe he's been gone seven years already.
Shane slid an arm around the older lady comfortingly. She was still mourning the death of her only so to the virus years ago, and had founded the non-profit in his memory. He felt his phone vibrate in his inner pocket stepped away to glance at it, shocked when he found Drew's face smiling on-screen.
The unexpected image of the other man stirred forgotten memories. He'd taken the photograph during a short vacation, three blissful nights over Labor Day weekend in the Hamptons last year. He'd captured Drew at dinner, relaxed and deeply tanned; the setting sun in the distance casting a slight shadow over him as dark aviator shades covered his hazel eyes. They'd spent warm blissful days in the sun and hot ardent nights in bed... it'd been one of the last times they'd been truly happy together.
He let out a slow breath once the phone went silent. Why was Drew calling now? It'd been a week without any word and now...what? He didn't want to deal with this. He went back to Melinda and Cole who seemed to have fallen into some kind of argument.
"I don't see why we can't just break ground on a new infectious diseases wing at the Metropolitan Hospital. They deserve the funding and they were so good to us when my dear Henry passed..."
Cole cleared his throat noisily. "These decisions have to go through the board, Melinda dear-"
"They never see things my way. It's all about the research with them, but what about care?"
Shane didn't want to get into this discussion with Melinda and Cole again. Better minds than his were still deciphering the problem of research versus care. While the donations had been generous today, it was still a drop in the ocean compared to what they needed to make a difference. He'd only agreed to become a spokesperson for the foundation because the HIV/AIDS cause was near and dear to his heart. Putting up with Cole and Melinda's bickering was the price he paid for it.
When he heard the opening strains of another Billy Joel song, he found a way out. He stepped in between the two of them and suggested casually, "Cole, why don't you take Mel for a spin on the dance floor? She didn't request these Billy Joel covers just to sit them out the entire night?"
He watched them take the floor with a pleased grin when he began feeling the effects of the liquor he'd been throwing down all night; time to head to the restroom.
Shane was washing his hands at the sink when he heard his name. His heart skipped a beat. He knew that voice. He cursed whichever god was playing a mean joke on him because surely, it couldn't be.
He could do either of two things; look up and see Leo's reflection in the mirror or turn around and see Leo in person. He did neither. Not because he wanted to, but because he was frozen. He continued looking down at his hands, staring unseeingly at the soapy suds and running water. He tried to think of something, anything, to say, but his mind remained frustratingly blank.
"Shane?" Leo called out again, a bit uncertain this time.
Good, thought Shane, realizing that he'd hated the confident tone he'd heard the first time. He closed the faucet then forced himself to turn around slowly.
His breath caught in the back of his throat, taking in the other man's troubled dark eyes, a few days' worth of stubble on his cheeks and dark hair, slightly longer than he remembered. He looked tense, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Despite it all, he still looked good, Shane admitted to himself, drinking in the sight of the other man like water going down a parched throat. Then he stopped the train of thought because he knew how dangerous it was to think about what the tall, dark haired man did to him.
Still, he wasn't going to make this easy for him, so he said nothing. He knew he was making the other man nervous, but he didn't care. He came after me, he reasoned, not the other way round. Let him make the first move.
"I, uh..." Leo began uncertainly.
Shane arched one quizzical blond brow in a look that managed to be both questioning and insulting.
Leo gulped hard and tried again. "Could, umm, could we talk?"
"Go ahead," he replied shortly.
"Umm, alone...? Leo said, with a glance at the stalls behind him.
He shrugged. "Now is a good time as any. It will definitely be the second and last time you'll ever get me alone." In the harsh fluorescent lighting, Shane could see Leo blushing deeply, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
After a moment, he tried again. "Paul told me you called when I was, um, yeah... Thanks."
Shane nodded. When Leo said nothing else, he made a move to step away from the sink but Leo reached out for his arm, pleading, "Wait. Please don't go."
He shook Leo's hand off and stepped back again. Feeling angry that he'd let Leo touch him, but strangely pleased at the same time. Images of the night they'd spent together began to creep into his mind, but he shook his head to get rid of them. He hated that he still found Leo so attractive. Focus, he reminded himself. You're supposed to be mad.
"I'm sorry about what happened..." said Leo.
Shane considered the half-assed apology that had just been put forward. "I'm not," he retorted.
"No, I'm not sorry for what happened. I mean, I'm sorry for what I did after, for leaving you the way I did. It was stupid, immature. It had nothing to do with you. I don't regret what we did, but I'm sorry for what I did, to you, I'm sorry."
He blinked, struck silent by the Leo's words. He wished he could think of something mocking to say, but found himself taken by the sincerity and regret that cloaked every word.
"I know I can't change what I-"
"Are you finished, yet?" Shane cut in abruptly. He knew he was acting unnecessarily hostile, but however was he supposed to respond to an unsolicited apology? Despite Leo's regret, nothing changed. Absolutely nothing had changed between them.
"Shane," Leo said softly. "It was nothing personal-"
He couldn't help but interrupt indignantly. "Nothing personal...? I don't understand why people use that phrase, nothing personal. All it means, is it was nothing personal to you but it was personal to me, okay?" He stopped suddenly, angry at himself for showing any emotion.
"I can't do this," he decided. "I've got to go." He stepped around Leo and made for the door. His hand was just an inch from the handle when Leo blurted out suddenly, "I want to see you again."
Shane stopped and turned around. He said in disbelief, "You can't be serious!"
"I am...," Leo explained almost desperately. "I need to see you again."
"Why?" He asked curiously, he almost couldn't believe his ears.
Leo let out a soft breath, wondering how to phrase an answer he barely understood himself. "I want you. I do. I can't get you out of mind. I tried to pretend I wasn't... Look, I don't really understand what's going on here, but I don't want to ignore it."
Shane shook his head slowly. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why? Because of what happened before?"
"No, I don't think you know what you want..."
"I know you feel the same way I do."
"No, Leo. You have no idea how I feel about you."
"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean-?"
"We shouldn't even be having this conversation. You're with Joni Sampson and I'm with-"
"We broke up."
Shane was unmoved. "You broke up? Well that's just too bad. You two were probably perfect for each other... No, I'm sorry. That was mean. I shouldn't have said that. I barely know either of you." With a sigh, he continued, "It's never going to happen again. Los Angeles was a hookup. It was stupid and beautiful and we should just leave it be... Besides you've got your career to think about."
"I don't give a flying fuck about my career," Leo said dismissively.
"You will, when you're on the cover of every tabloid in the country."
"I already am."
Shane blinked, struck again by how much he really didn't know about the man who'd been occupying his thoughts lately. He wondered if this was what he'd been waiting for, then why didn't it sound more appealing? He'd wanted this from Leo, right? Wanted to be wanted, needed, by him? So why did it feel oddly unsatisfying? He mused out loud. "What do you want from me? A fling, a relationship, what?"
Leo took a hopeful step toward him. His gaze was heavy and shameless. It tracked every movement of Shane's mouth, his eyes, and his body. It left him in no doubt of what Leo really wanted from him.
"I just want you... however, whichever way... I'll take you anyway I can-"
Panicked, Shane interrupted him hastily. "No." Thoughts of Drew came to mind, the oddly possessive, inanimate way Drew had treated him at the end of their relationship. The idea of Leo wanting him in the same way was off putting.
If he was going to be `taken', he decided, it would be completely; mind, body and soul. Too often, he gave up his body without bothering with the rest, but no more. He knew he was worth more than Leo was offering. He deserved better than to be a come hole for guys like Drew and Leo who needed a quick fuck and a massage to their egos.
"You want me?"
Leo nodded slowly, brown eyes lighting up optimistically.
"You don't even know me," he said quietly. Thinking about Drew's vehemence to him just over a week ago had him adding, "You probably wouldn't like me, if you did." He paused then continued more resolutely, "You think you're willing to risk your career for a quick fuck, and maybe it will be salvageable after everything goes down, but not my heart. I'm not willing to risk my heart again... I'm sorry."
With that, he opened the door and left the restroom quickly, not turning back to the sound of Leo calling his name.
Leo's first impulse was to go after him, but he stopped himself. He ran his hands through his dark hair, trying to consider all that Shane had told him. He heard the door open behind him and he looked back hoping to see Shane. It wasn't.
He departed then and walked through the hallway only to realize that the two cougars from earlier, Brunette and her friend, Blondie, from the restaurant had trailed him to the restroom. They giggled with excitement and gushed about how they'd bought every single one of his albums. He refrained from asking them if they'd been purchased for their teenage sons. One offered her arm to autograph while the other shoved her chest his way. He signed quickly and excused himself politely.
By the time he reached the ballroom, he realized the gala was over. Crowds milled about the lobby and even though he'd been hoping to catch a glimpse of Shane one more time, it was impossible to find him.
Hours later, Shane sloshed his glass of red wine as he entered his bedroom. Jasmine pattered quickly to the spill on the floor and sniffed, but didn't lick. Smart dog, he thought. He wasn't much of a fan of the Cabernet Sauvignon he was drinking, but the only other liquor available on the wine rack had been that bottle of champagne he and Drew neglected that night. He'd gone for the wine, thinking it'd get him exactly where he wanted tonight, stone cold drunk.
Carefully placing the glass on the dresser, he went into the bathroom to get some tissue to clean up. He caught sight of Drew's monogramed towel hanging on the rack and grabbed it gleefully. He rubbed at the spill vigorously, ensuring that every drop of wine got soaked up and was quite pleased to find a huge red stain on the ivory bath sheet. He decided pettily that he wouldn't launder it so the stain stayed exactly that way and never came out.
His phone vibrated and he glanced at it. Drew. Speak of the devil, he thought. Looking to Jasmine who was licking her paws complacently on the bed, he asked her, "What say you?"
She snorted.
"I agree." He ignored his phone and threw the towel in the laundry basket then proceeded to pull off his bowtie and jacket. The phone started ringing again.
He threw a glance back at the dog. "It's all on you, Jas," he said playfully. "If you tell me to, I'll talk to him... just say the word."
She stared at him with soft, unblinking brown eyes. He grinned. "I guess not."
He went to the linen closet to retrieve a fresh set of sheets. He'd realized that sleeping in a bed with the scent of an absent Drew so close by every night had become a little unsettling. He prodded Jasmine until she got the message and jumped off the bed with a resentful look at him.
"Give me two minutes," he called to her retreating figure, "and you can get back on."
He was just tucking in the final corner when his phone rang one more time. He rolled his eyes at Drew's persistence and reached for his wine glass when he caught sight of the number flashing on the phone.
Odd; it was an area code he was unfamiliar with. 314 was nowhere near the tri-state area or New England for that matter. Further south or west, he concluded. He took the call out of curiosity and then in a stunning repeat of events earlier that evening, his mind went blank when he heard the voice on the other end.
He reflexively reached for the glass of wine and drained it. When his heart wasn't beating so fast and the pounding in his ears finally receded, he said, "Leo?"
"Hi."
"How did you get my number?"
"That's no way to talk to a friend." Leo said innocently.
Shane bit back a laugh. "Why are you doing this?"
"I want to talk," Leo replied. He sounded more confident than he'd done just hours ago. Like he'd had time to think and knew exactly what he was doing this time.
Shane sat back on the bed with the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder, slipped his feet out of his shoes and socks then sighed softly. "So, talk."
"You left something with me."
"Really?" Shane said, taken aback. "What?"
Leo paused for a beat. "Your pen."
He couldn't help the chuckle that slipped from his lips. "Seriously? You're going to pull that stunt again?"
"Hey, it worked the last time."
"Yeah," Shane said then in a more serious tone, added, "It worked quite well last time."
"It's got your name on it," Leo said suggestively.
He closed his eyes, allowed himself get lost in the attractively low timbre of Leo's voice so close to him. "I'm sure my name's right next to the hotel logo."
Leo laughed but didn't refute him. "I could bring it over. You probably need it tonight."
"Yeah," Shane said agreeably, "I plan to do a lot of writing at 1:30 in the morning."
Silence filled the air until Leo exhaled softly. "Shane..."
He shivered unintentionally. Leo's voice had gone low, rough with desire and Shane felt incredibly powerful in that moment. The way Leo sounded now, it was because of him. He made him feel that way and he was this close to saying something, anything Leo wanted him to say, when the soft fur of Jasmine's pelt brushed against his bare foot.
His eyes snapped open and he sat up. What the fuck was he doing? "I've got to go," he said with a conviction he didn't really feel. Before Leo could say anything in response, he clicked the end button on the phone.
Anger and confusion coursed through him. He didn't get more time to think because Jasmine ran out of the room barking. He followed her with concern. Jasmine wasn't one to expend energy on gratuitous barking when she could be snoozing on his bed.
He watched her run in circles, barking excitedly at the knocking coming from the front door. He hushed her gently. "That's okay, Jas."
Flinging the door open, he found himself face to face, for the second time that day, with Leo. He couldn't even speak; just watched the dark haired man leaning against the door frame. He was still dressed in the same jeans and T-shirt from earlier but he'd also thrown on a military style jacket.
With a smile, he removed the phone from his ear. "I was just about to call you back."
"What are you doing here?"
Leo smiled even wider and dug a hand in his jacket to pull out a pen, swinging it in front of Shane's face. "You did say you had a lot of writing to do tonight..."
"That's one too many times you've used that excuse."
Leo persisted. "Are you sure? I could've sworn I saw you with it-"
"In the restroom?" Shane asked skeptically.
"Maybe if you'd let me in, we could figure out just what's going on here. There's obviously been a mistake. We should resolve it."
Shane took a step back and pressed the door securely to his side. "That is so not a good idea. I know what's going to happen if you come in ..."
Leo shrugged innocently, "Absolutely nothing."
"I don't trust you."
"You should."
"Fine, I don't trust myself."
Leo grinned. "I've got enough trust for the both of us."
Shane looked down at his bare feet, pressing his toes against the cool hardwood floor until they turned white.
"I didn't get a chance to tell you earlier," Leo said as he reached forward with one hand to grasp Shane's chin and lifted his gaze up to his meet his own, "that you look absolutely stunning in a tuxedo."
Shane blushed, looked away, thrown by the casual way Leo said it. Like his words were so unequivocally true that he didn't even need to infuse them with any conviction to persuade Shane about their accuracy. "Tom Ford makes everyone look good," he muttered.
Leo watched him, and emboldened, stepped forward to place both hands to the sides of Shane's face, angled it in the right direction and then pressed his mouth to his.
Shane's senses went into overdrive. He tried not to think about how much he'd been waiting for this to happen, how a part of him had wanted Leo to do just this, ignore his protests and kiss him. He didn't put up any resistance when Leo's tongue parted his lips; he sighed and slid their tongues together.
He heard a low moan come from the back of his own throat as he let go of the door he'd been tightly clutching to throw an arm around the rock star's shoulders.
Where is my self-control? He wondered. He was obviously not a disciplined person where Leo Malone was concerned. He realized that things were spiraling out of control when Leo's hands came down to grip his hips tightly and pressed Shane against him. He felt how hard Leo was, and knew he was just as hard. He noticed that his hands seemed to be moving on their own volition, parting Leo's jacket and creeping slowly underneath his shirt and up his back.
Leo's hands slipped down to grab his ass, squeezing him firmly then lifting him till he was standing on tiptoes and their cocks were perfectly aligned against each other. He grabbed a fistful of Leo's hair, allowing himself to be rubbed up and down on the other man's hardness and it was only when he started considering how to wrap his legs against Leo's waist so that they could get off quicker that he came back to his senses.
He pulled his hands away from where they were gripping Leo's hair and skimming the warm skin on his back. His breath was coming out in short pants. "I think you should go. We shouldn't have done that."
Leo ran his hand worriedly through his hair. "You want me to leave? After that...? You want me to just walk away from you?"
Shane bit down on his wet lip and said half-heartedly, "You should go."
Leo reached out for him again, "Shane...?"
"No... I said you, you should leave now," he repeated with more resolve then stepped back quickly into his apartment and shut the door. He leaned against it and put his face in his hands.
Jasmine was reclining on the couch, watching him steadily.
"I did the right thing, Jas?" he asked.
She blinked then put her head down on her paws.
He sighed audibly. "Who am I kidding?" With that, he turned around quickly to open the door.
Leo was still there, his face lighting up with a smile. "I hoped you'd change your mind."
Shane grabbed the front of his T-shirt and pulled him in. "Shut up and kiss me."