After my initial confusion, I come back to myself, and I honestly have no idea what Leo is even talking about. Also honestly, do not give two shits about it either. I have my own problems right now, so whatever bullshit Leo is concocting for me in this moment can just wait for later. Or better yet never.

But before I can respond to him, because it’s clear he’s waiting for a response from me and also isn’t planning on going anywhere until I do respond, I’m hit once again by that twisting, burning sensation in my stomach. I gasp and clutch my hands to my midsection.

Get yourself under control, Margot. Leo is right here and you can’t let him see your weakness. That’s only going to make things worse for you.

But it’s too late. Of course he’s seen it. There’s no chance for him to miss it since we’re the only two people in the kitchen and he’s staring right at me.

I glance up at him, expecting to see scorn, or anger, or some other ugly look on his face he reserves specifically for me, but instead what I find is a flash of…understanding?

It’s just as shocking as the sensation running through my body, in fact, more so as it helps me forget about it for a moment.

I’m so stunned that I remain frozen in place when Leo moves, stepping around the corner and stopping right in front of me. And then he does something that makes absolutely no sense at all.

He reaches out for me.

Move. You have to move!

But I can’t. My legs are stuck to the floor like I’ve been glued there, and for one insane moment I think about how Prince Charming spread pitch on the stairs to try to stop Cinderella from fleeing.

But I’m no princess. And Leo Moreno is definitely no Prince Charming.

All of this, though, means that I’m still standing stock-still, stunned, when Leo grabs my wrist and pulls me through the kitchen and into the pantry before closing the door behind us.

Why are you letting the Tripdick drag you into different rooms, Margot? You’re never supposed to let assailants take you to a new location.

Fuck if I know why I’m allowing them to drag me places.

Fuck if I know anything right now. I’m unmoored in my own body, in my own brain. I can’t focus on anything other than that burning in my stomach, triggered by that scent in the main room.

Are you having a stroke? Is it possible to have a stroke when you’re only twenty-one?

I’m pretty sure the answer is yes, but my words aren’t slurring, and I’m able to move both sides of my body.

Leo places his hands on my shoulders and this seems to ground me back in my body, snapping me in place. He’s ducked down, looking me in the eyes…

“No.” His voice is quiet, and I’m not sure if he’s speaking to me or just to himself. “This can’t be right. What is happening?”

I don’t know what he means by any of it, other than the fact that yes, none of this can be right. Because currently all I’m thinking about are his large hands resting on my shoulders and the warmth from them grounding me in my body. And how close his face is to mine. And how incredibly blue his eyes are, searching mine for whatever it is he’s looking for.

And then, before I can even think about what I’m doing, I’m raising my hand toward his face. I have some insane idea to, like, rest it against his cheek, maybe? It’s unclear and I don’t get to figure out what my hand plans on doing because Leo suddenly takes a step back from me, pulling his hands off my shoulders. They feel very cold without his heat.

“This is all wrong,” Leo says. He drops his eyes from mine, back to his usual form of dickery. Margot isn’t worth even looking at, that’s what he things. “It has to be. You’re just fucking with me because of the other night, right? This is some bullshit, isn’t it?”

Normally his voice is even and controlled, but the way he keeps asking these questions, almost as if he’s begging me to tell him that whatever he thinks is going on is not, causes me to pull back too.

I’ve never seen Leo so unsure before. Unmoored, just like me.

It’s a trick, Margot.

The quick thought is enough to nudge my anger, though I can’t seem to rile it up to its usual strength. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say to him, trying to keep my voice cold. “I’m supposed to be helping in the kitchen. You’re the one who dragged me in here like some sort of asshole.”

Leo frowns at that. I expect him to lash back at me with his words the way he normally would. Say something so cutting yet so calmly that it works its way deep into my heart to really fester, like he typically does.

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes a step forward.

You’ve pushed him too far. Get out of here, Margot.

I step away from him, but my back bumps up against the closed pantry door. I try to find the doorknob behind me, while keeping my focus on Leo.

“What are you doing?” he says to me.

I find the doorknob and struggle to turn it. “What are you doing, Leo?”

I hear the click of the door latch releasing, but before I can yank it open and flee, Leo’s hand shoots out past my face and slams against the door, keeping it shut. Trapping me in here with him.

“I don’t think so.” His voice has lost all the confusion it had before. Now he’s back to being the quiet and confident Leo. The one who is sure everyone will listen to whatever he has to say no matter how loudly he speaks. The one who terrorizes me any chance he can get.

I shove his arm, trying to get it off the door so I can run, but instead he slams his other arm against the door, too, trapping me between them.

My heart is pounding so hard in my chest that I’m sure he can hear it, can probably see it in my jugular, pulsing, tempting him…

My stomach flutters, a combination of fear and something else. And it’s only because I was so recently kissing Ranveer that I recognize it for what it is: desire.

I lick my dry lips and taste salt from my sweat. He’s so close to me…

What do you think he tastes like?

No. I can’t succumb to this again. I won’t let this happen. I tilt my chin up and look Leo in the eyes. “Let me out. I need to go.”

He doesn’t answer, of course, just continues to stare down at me, his thoughts unreadable.

Then he takes a deep breath, his brow furrowing, and I’m sure he’s going to say something that will deeply hurt me—

“Fuck it. Let’s just see what happens.”

It’s all the warning I have before he practically slams his mouth into mine.

He parts my lips with his tongue and I have just a moment to think black currants before I surrender to the kiss.

Leo takes charge, pressing his body against mine, the door banging behind us as one of his hands slides behind my neck, holding me in place. I make a surprised sound against his mouth, and he presses against me even harder. I grab onto his arms, my nails digging into his skin, trying to find something to hold onto.

He pulls his lips free from mine, then slides his mouth down my jaw before settling beneath my ear. I groan and Leo’s hands drop to my waist. His fingers slide under the hem of my shirt.

His hands are like burning embers against my skin. Suddenly, more than anything, I want to be touching more of him. All of him.

I pull my hands free from his arms and reach for his waistband, fumbling to find the button of his pants. When I do, it’s only a quick flick and it’s undone.

But before I can do what I really want, before I can slide my hands down into his pants, before I can find that hottest part of him, Leo gasps and yanks free from me. I stumble forward, and he does nothing to catch me. I reach out and grab a shelf, breaking my fall.

“What the fuck, Leo?!” I say.

Leo shakes his head, ignoring me. “No. This is not—this isn’t happening.”

Uhh, except it very clearly is…

Leo looms over me and his expression has gone dark and stormy. “You better not fucking tell anybody that this happened.”

He doesn’t wait for me to respond. Just turns around and slams the door open before stomping his way out and heading back to the gathering.

I sag against the shelves, my knees shaking so hard I can barely keep on my feet. My heart is a sledgehammer in my chest. What the hell is going on?

Umm, isn’t it clear? In the span of one hour you’ve gone from Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed to tennis-star Zendaya making out with two boys?

I shake my head. Not to mention I’ve hated Ranveer and Leo for pretty much my whole life. But holy shit, if hate makes kissing feel that good, then maybe I need to start hating any and all guys I might one day want to hook up with.

All of this is just distraction though, noise against the very real problem and mystery facing me.

I straighten my shirt, and my hair, and take a deep breath.

It only helps a little with my mindset though. Because the truth is Leo was right. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but it needs to stop.