Groom Wars

43. Two Fools in Love

I was lying in bed when I felt Leandro climb onto my bunk. I felt the mattress sink and a cold breeze touched my skin as he lifted my sheet and slid beneath it. Molding his form to fit the way I lay on my side, his arm coiled around my waist and slid under my shirt to rest on the bare skin near my waist. He pressed his chest against my back. His breath brushed my neck as he whispered, "Why won't you listen to me? You feel the tension between them and us. Les Braves Hommes will attack soon. Go home, so I don't have to worry about them hurting you."

"They won't attack us with cameras everywhere. Director Chen separated them and us, so obviously, the production staff are doing their best to prevent any conflict. I think it'll all work out fine. There's nothing for us to worry about."

He kissed the back of my neck. "I wish I was as confident as you."

A shiver ran through me.

I closed my eyes and said, "Leandro."

"The cameramen are avoiding you because you're sick. Our roommates and partners tire of our arguing; we got rid of our microphones in anger." His fingers brushed my skin; they drew lines near my navel. His fingers continued to move as if they were paintbrushes, and my skin was the canvas. They drew lines and shapes I would never see. He spoke in a husky voice that warmed my body, "The cameras can't see me when I'm close to the wall. The one over your bed view's Steven's. The one on Steven's views you, but its view is hindered by the rail. The one at our feet, that one's view is blocked by the sheet. The one on the wall across the room, that one sees the rail at the bottom of your bunk."

"And you're certain?"

"No. But if we're questioned, I'll just say I'm cuddling my bro because he has difficulty falling asleep lately." He licked the back of my neck, sending another wave of tremors through me. At times like this, I hated my body for being so susceptible to him.

"Why are you so freakin' horny when I have a cold?"

"I could kiss it better."

"You'll catch my cold, idiot."

"I've been trying to."

"I noticed." He had asked me to kiss him the day before, fully knowing the status of my condition.

He chuckled and bit the tip of my ear. "We have a few minutes till everyone gets back. On a scale of one to ten, how well do you think your family buys into our story?"

"Our bromance? Knowing them, not at all."

"Are they going to lock you away from me when you go home?"

"Probably."

"That's too bad; I rather like you."

"Not love?"

"Not love; sure, I love you like a brother but nothing romantic." He smiled and kissed my cheek. The silky imprint of his flesh lingered on my skin. He murmured next to my ear, "Do you love me?"

"Not even a little."

He chuckled against my neck, probably because he knew it made my body tense, causing a commotion in my loins. He whispered, "I hate seeing you act cute for others. It irritates me. I want you to myself."

"I'll think about your confession. But if I don't take the role of a cute, adorable, younger brother, what character should I build for myself?"

We heard voices in the hall, approaching our door and crawling over me; Leandro threw himself over the rails, accidentally taking my sheet with him. He landed badly on all fours, cursing in a way that made me think he had hit his toe on something. He tossed the sheet over the rail, and I caught it. I quickly covered myself with it and pretended to sleep. A voice called, "Leandro? We're going to play poker. Are you in?"

Leandro said, "I'll pass. I've got a terrible migraine."

"Cool," the voice, most likely Charlie, said. I listened to the sound of their receding steps.

Leandro chuckled, then lying on his bunk beneath mine, kicked my bed with both feet. I looked over the side of the rail to see him lean his head to the side and stick his tongue at me. My nose was clogged, and though I was often miserable because of it and my watering eyes, he made me smile. "I hate you," I said,

"I know."

"No, really, I do."

Smiling, he stood and kissed my forehead. "I know."

***