Page 35

“This is the spring mechanism I added to the hinge—it’s coiled tightly so it holds firm and allows for more controlled movement. The patient is able to move their injured joint while feeling secure and supported.”

Leah’s teaching voice is so different from the one I’m used to. I knew she was smart—she has a PhD in bioengineering—but knowing and seeing are two very different things.

The hinge she’s been developing is gaining traction in the medical community. At the university’s behest, Leah had to pause her regular syllabus in order to teach her master’s class about how the production and creation of new tech works—the amount of research and funding needed, the entire process from start to (almost) finish. She brought me in to showcase her new design, along with a knee patient and a shoulder dislocation Mateo procured for her.

It shouldn’t bother me that I’m not the only one she needed for this lesson, but she does seem to be focusing most of her time on how my brace works.

When I walk around the classroom, up and down the stairs, showcasing the design, it’s a struggle to ignore the whispers and not-so-subtle attempts to get pictures of me. I don’t need the brace anymore since it’s been over three months since my injury.

Mateo has me skating again and soon I’ll be able to get back in the game.

I’m not nearly as excited about it as I thought I’d be. I honestly thought it would take longer to heal, but it seems like the beginning of the process is the roughest. Once the body begins healing, it gets easier and easier every day. I know Leah is put out because she didn’t get the brace developed in time for me to need it, but the fact that she’s made this much progress in such a short amount of time is a huge feat.

Science typically doesn’t move this fast.

I watch in awe of her brilliance, her composure. Every fucking thing about her. She’s barely made eye contact with me her whole lesson—though maybe that’s because I’m staring at her like I want to keep her for myself. Because I do.

The one time she did look at me, her cheeks went red and she stuttered. I don’t have it in me to feel bad about distracting her. She’s been distracting me for months.

That night, the night I went to the hospital, I asked her to stay. She didn’t. She’s been avoiding me again, and I’m starting to get frustrated.

Why is she avoiding me? Unless she doesn’t feel the same way I do. It sure as hell feels like she wants me, but maybe she just wants sex. That thought doesn’t feel right though. I know her .

Pride fills my whole body as I watch her in her element. My brain floods with images of me bending her over her desk and taking her from behind until I’m uncomfortable sitting here. I look around to see if I can make a discreet exit when I notice a man standing in the shadows at the back of the classroom. He’s tall, a little wiry, and his eyes are intent on Leah.

Her cheeks flush the moment she notices him and she stutters for only a moment. Something possessive takes over me.

She’s mine.

I want her flustered for me and me alone. The class seems to stretch, though it’s only another ten minutes before she finally dismisses her students, thanking the other patients for demonstrating her new spring-filled braces.

Leah’s eyes dart from me to the man in the back, her face completely blank and unreadable. I want to go to her. So sick of wanting her and not being able to have her, that’s what I do.

The other man has the same idea, but I make it to her first.

“Are you okay?” I ask her quietly.

She nods, her eyes glued to the other man. I don’t know how to feel about it. On the one hand, I’m a fucking possessive asshole and I want her eyes only on me. On the other hand, she’s a grown-ass woman and can put her eyes wherever the hell she wants. I’d prefer they be on me.

But when she leans into me a little, that’s the sign I need. I step in behind her, close enough to feel her heat. Close enough to signal to this man I’m not leaving and she has my support for whatever’s in store .

There’s something familiar about him I can’t quite place. The man’s dark brown hair is coiffed in perfectly styled waves—too perfect. He reminds me a little of Caleb. His brown eyes are sharp, assessing us standing together.

His tan, clean-shaven cheeks redden at whatever he sees when he reaches us—maybe it’s Leah’s cold expression or my protective stance. He’s tall, maybe 6’0”, but I tower over him. He looks like a prick.

His eyes flick to me and back to Leah, face hardening.

“Leah.” He says her name in a familiar way, as if he’s said it a thousand times before. He knows her.

“Ian.”

Ian Diaz. Levi’s father.

I see it in the shape of his eyes and nose. I always thought Levi looked like Leah, but seeing the other half, this man is there too.

Except he’s not, because this fucker ditched his family. That tells me everything I need to know about him.

“What are you doing here?” Leah asks. I’ve never seen her like this. Even when she’s guarded around me, she’s not this cold, this shut down.

Ian glances at me before addressing Leah. “Can we talk privately?”

“No.” Maybe I shouldn’t have answered for her, but right now, I don’t care. I’m not leaving.

Ian narrows his eyes. “What are you, her bodyguard?”

“No. ”

He bristles at my one-word answers. Truth is, I have no idea what we are and I’m not going to get into it with him.

“What do you want, Ian?” Leah asks, impatience written all over her, in her tone, body language, and expression.

He goes to take a step closer but at my glare, he stops. At least he has some brain cells.

“I made a huge mistake,” he says. There’s something off about this guy. The words sound sincere enough, but the back of my neck prickles in warning. I do not trust him.

Leah snorts. “I’ve heard that before.”

“It’s true. Leah, honey–”

“Don’t ‘honey’ me.”

“Sorry, habit.”

I scoff. It’s been almost three years since they were together—there’s no way that was anything but an attempt at manipulation. Luckily, my woman is stronger than that.

“Get to the point. You didn’t make the trip from Salt Lake just to tell me you made a mistake.” Her voice is all hard lines with no inflection. I thought I knew how she spoke when she was angry after I pissed her off to no end when we first met.

But this is different. She hates him. Which means she loved him enough he had the power to hurt her this much.

Fuck him.

“I want to be a part of Levi’s life.” Except when he says Levi’s name, he uses a distinct accent, changing the way it’s pronounced to sound like lay-vee . “Of your life,” he adds, his shifty eyes pleading .

“It’s pronounced Levi and you know it. If you were actually his father you could have spoken about him, to him, in Spanish, but you signed away your rights. You’re no one to him.”

“Leah—”

“No, Ian, you can’t show up here unannounced and expect me to fall all over you.”

His eyes narrow at me assuming it’s my fault she’s acting this way and not because he’s given her all the valid reasons in the world to hate him.

“Is it this guy? Fucking Julien Richard now, are you?”

“Watch it,” I practically growl.

Leah half turns, placing a hand on the centre of my chest. My shoulders still tense but I calm under her touch. Ian watches the interaction, anger flaring on his face.

“Who I fuck is none of your business,” she says calmly, almost sweetly. Does he know her well enough to hear the dangerous edge he’s walking on?

“Maybe not, but if he’s in my son’s life—” Ian starts, but I don’t let him finish.

“He’s not your son.”

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I’m not only feeling protective over Leah—that little kid, mon petit loup , deserves better than this shithead.

“So he’s yours then?” His tone drips with sarcasm. I know men like him, men who are dangerous when they feel threatened.

“He’s Leah’s.” At my words, she holds her head higher .

No, he’s not my son, but I ... I care about him. I don’t want him to suffer more because his sperm donor, as Leah calls him, walks in and out of his life on a whim.

“The answer is no, Ian. You can’t be part of Levi’s life. And you’re certainly not a part of mine.” Pride washes over me. She’s so strong, I never doubted she wouldn’t cave.

“Come on, Lee, give me a chance. When I heard about your developments, I realized how much I missed you. And Levi.” He adds the kid’s name like an afterthought.

Leah goes so still, I’m not even sure she’s breathing. “My developments?”

My eyes have not left Ian’s face, and I see the flash of regret before he can school his features. I don’t think he meant to say that.

He stumbles for words. “Yes. I mean, I follow your work, of course, and the research came across my desk. Seeing your name, it brought up so much.”

What is this guy after?

“And what research was that?” Leah asks. She’s dropped her hand, but I’m so close to her I can feel her body trembling with restrained anger. Now I’m confused.

Ian clears his throat, finally realizing he’s in a precarious spot.

“It was the, um, the brace research. It’s brilliant.”

“It is.”

“Well, I saw the developments you made and the applications across the entire industry, and I knew you had something. It reminded me of how well we used to work together.”

A loaded pause .

Leah bursts out laughing, the sound reverberating off the dark wooden walls of her empty classroom. It’s a little unhinged and not at all full of humour.

“So that’s what this is about. I shouldn’t be surprised—it’s always about this with you.”

Ian looks like someone stuck dogshit up his nose.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come off it, Ian. You can let the remorseful ex-fiancé facade go and forget about ever meeting the kid your sperm created. You’re here because you want to worm your way into my life and into my project.”

The dogshit look worsens, his features scrunched in disgust and disbelief.

“No, I want to help you. Remember when you used to get stuck and you’d run your ideas by me? That’s when you did your best work. With me.”

She snorts. “You probably heard how much money I stand to make.”

Wait, money? What money? Also, screw this guy. Leah is fucking brilliant all on her own.

“How dare you! I’ve changed, Lee. I want to be with you ...” He takes a step forward, reaching out to her. She flinches.

Flinches.

That’s it for me. I step out and stand protectively in front of her. Ian has the decency to look frightened as he backs away, hands up.

“Chill, dude, I’m not going to hurt her.”

“I’m not your dude,” I growl .

I feel Leah’s hand on my back and she steps out from behind me, glaring at Ian. “Leave, Ian.” Her voice is shaky. She’s starting to lose her composure.

“No.”

“She won’t ask you again,” I add, putting as much warning into my tone as I can.

Ian eyes flit from me to Leah, assessing. I see his hand twitch at his side, but I’ll go to prison before I let him touch her, not if she doesn’t want him to.

“This isn’t over, Leah.”

I see it then, the flash of anger in his eyes. It’s dark and dangerous.

“Leave,” I say through gritted teeth.

At least one of his brain cells is working because he turns and stalks out of the room.

When the door slams behind him, the loud sound echoes through the entire room, rattling the chalk on the chalkboard. Leah sucks in a sharp breath right before she crashes into my side.