Draw Me In (23 page)

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Authors: Megan Squires

BOOK: Draw Me In
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I eventually got really good at it,
even after my leg completely healed. So Dad made this for me.

He twisted, holding his hands out on
either side to showcase the space around us.

I love the wine and the vineyards and
the Villa, obviously. But this is my place. This spot belongs to me.

With
his fingers pinching the small stone through the leather pullback, Leo lifted
his elbow up so it was parallel with his shoulder. His eyes slivered, the right
one disappearing completely underneath a shut lid, and his jaw tightened with
focus and determination. Just like he was pulling back an arrow in a bow, Leo
guided his arm backward, increasing the tension on the bands in the catapult.
Then in one precise movement, he completely let go.

I
could hear the crack of the rock against the red center of the target, and even
though it was such a great distance away, I could see the shards that
splintered out from it like bark from a wood chipper. Jagged, unforgiving.


Nice shot,

I congratulated, slapping a hand to
his shoulder blade really just as an excuse to touch him. But in truth, what he

d just done was insanely impressive.
And sexy as hell.


Thanks. Your turn.

I
was beginning to adore that smile. There was an ease to his grin that was lazy
and playful: a boyish look that coated his masculine face. It was that
perceived innocence once again, draping across his features, making me question
everything I thought I knew about him.

Just
like he had moments earlier, I lowered my stance to collect a pebble at my
feet. I

d
never used, nor operated, a slingshot before, but it looked pretty
self-explanatory. But what I found was that balancing the stone between my
fingers while simultaneously pulling back on the slack of the band took more
skill than I

d
originally thought. After dropping two pebbles back onto the ground in a failed
attempt, I reached for a larger rock I could grip onto more easily.


There you go,

Leo agreed, encouraging me with a
nod.

That

s a good one.

With
my right hand steadied and my left holding onto the base of the slingshot, I
bit my lip between my teeth, sucked in an empowering breath, and released my
grasp on the rock and the band at once.

And
that

s
when I heard the most awful sound in the history of sounds.

Twice.

Because
apparently looking at your target was an important thing and I

d failed to do that as I readied the
shot.

The
audible crack of the rock against the wooden bull

s-eye was what I

d expected to hear, not the
horrifying squawk, and then thunk, followed by another equally disturbing
squawk, and then thunk, like an echo of death plummeting to the ground.


Oh my word, Julie.

Leo

s eyes bugged out and his mouth fell
open, either awestruck or disgusted, I couldn

t really be sure.

You did not seriously just kill two
birds with one stone.

The
bloodied heaps of feathers and dust just a few yards away confirmed the
impossible reality of his statement.

How
the hell had I managed that? I wasn

t
sure if I should be horrified by the fact that I

d just taken the lives of two
innocent birds

doves
no less

or
if I should be pumping a fist against my chest in some barbaric celebration of
my newly discovered bird-murdering skills. It was a weird line to ride and I
had no idea what side Leo was on

no
indication as to how I should react.


How did you
do
that?


Beginner

s luck?

There really was no explanation for
what just happened. I figured at least a thousand stars had aligned in order to
pull that off. No, make that a billion.

But
in fairness, it wasn

t
like that was the first time I

ve
done that. I managed to simultaneously get a job and an almost boyfriend, score
myself a trip to Italy and almost score with an ancient artifact. I

m killing all kinds of birds with all
kinds of stones all over the place.

Leo
smirked.

That
you are.

He tossed another rock my way.

Here.
Try it again.

I
secured the pebble in my grip and let it sail once more through the air, but
this time it didn

t
hit any low flying fowl, and it didn

t
come even remotely close to any targets. It was a complete miss.


Alright, not as impressive, but that

s fine.

With a crooked grin, he shrugged.

I think I

d get a complex if you turned out to
be better than me at this. This is kind of my thing.

Without
even looking the direction of the target, Leo pulled back on his slingshot and
launched a stone toward it, hitting the outermost ring.


What else is your thing?

Chip, chip, chip. Perfect
opportunity to peel away that shell.


Hmm. That

s hard.

I guess it was a difficult question
to answer

to
sum yourself up in a sentence or thought.

I
like to work. I mean, I

m
obviously a businessman, but I enjoy getting up everyday and going into the
office. It feels purposeful and productive.


But you don

t really
need
to work, do you?

It wasn

t
like I

d
peeked into their accounting books, but it was obvious Leo

s family was well off. The Villa and
their NYC office address alone hinted at that.


Someone

s gotta keep it going. Dad

s sort of handed everything off to
me, and Gio isn

t
interested in business side of things, mostly just the wine-making aspect. It

s all kind of fallen on my shoulders.

Pretty
nice shoulders to fall on.

If
you weren

t
in the wine business, what would you want to be?

Leo
didn

t
waste a moment before answering.

When
I was little, I wanted to be Batman.

I
choked on a laugh, literally having to cough it down to make room for the
words.

That

s not a profession. That

s a freakishly large nocturnal winged
animal.


Dude
—”
Did he just say dude? Had my Italian
Casanova suddenly turned into a teenage Santa Barbara surfer?

Batman totally had a job...
To save the world!


I thought that was Superman

s responsibility.

Leo
bellowed a raucous, youthful laugh, one that made him double over at the waist.

I actually think world saving falls
under the job description of all super heroes.

That was probably true. I

d give him that.

Except for the Hulk. That guy had
some major anger management issues.

I
looked at him, the way the light reflected into those blue eyes of his and how
his skin was literally sun-kissed. I couldn

t pull my eyes from him, and I

m sure he felt the heat of my stare
along with the sun that beat down on us. Who was he? I

d never wanted to find an answer to
something more earnestly in my entire life.


So your favorite hero is Batman?


Yeah,

he nodded.

If we

re talking comic book heroes, I

d go with him.


What about other heroes?

I asked.

Gimme your sports hero.


Kobe Bryant.


Political.


Don

t have one,

he replied quickly, taking another
shot at the target with his sling.


Good call,

I agreed.

Professional?


Firefighter.

I
was running out of heroes, but didn

t
want our conversation to end so I added,

Biblical.


Is that a serious question?

Whoops, maybe not. We hadn

t had any talks about faith or beliefs
at all yet, and I wondered if maybe I was pressing things with that.

Isn

t it incredibly obvious?


Jesus!

Of course. That had to be it.


Well, now I

m going to sound completely
blasphemous because that wasn

t
my first answer. I was going to say David.

Yes
. The whole
slingshot thing should have clued me in. And the fact that my first encounter
with Leo had been under that infamous statue. It started to feel very full
circle, like all of those times I

d
sketched and drawn and shaped the likeness onto paper was some sort of
precursor leading up to this moment between us. Some kind of foreshadowing.
Literal shadowing of this encounter, just like I

d done so many times, only with a
pencil within my grip.


David.

I nodded.

Because of the slingshot.


No.

Leo shook his head slowly.

David. Because of the battle.

I
froze in place. My thoughts got jumbled in my brain.

I
wanted desperately to know what battle Leo was fighting, but so far his concise
statements and reflections left me with little in the way of clues. But there
was something there, and he

d
given me bits and pieces to work with. His sick mother. His responsibility as
her caretaker. His breakup with Sofia and his hopes for our future. I didn

t know much, but I knew these pieces
all worked together to make up the greater whole. A greater whole that was Leo.

Michelangelo
worked with paint and clay.

I
worked with a pencil and paper.

And
Leo worked with memories and experiences that shaped him into the masterpiece
he was. Never before had I wanted to sketch him so badly than I did in this
moment in his arena in the vineyard. Never before had I wanted to strip him
bare, not necessarily of his clothes, but of his insecurities and hesitation.
Never before had I wanted to study a subject on such a deep level that I could
literally draw them out from their own form. Soul to soul.

I
was ready for Leo to come to life.

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