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told you all that?”
    Priscilla rolled her eyes. “I’m a twit, remember? Of course she’s going to tell me everything. Twits don’t backstab.”
    A moment passed before Leandro’s lips formed a reluctant smile. “That was indeed helpful.”
    “You don’t really look her type, though.”
    The words stung. “Well, type or not, she never fails to succumb to my kisses.”
    “Oh, that’s nothing! Kisses won’t steal her heart, and that’s what you want to do, right?” She looked at him with uncommon shrewdness. “And it’s because of Uncle Orion, isn’t it?”
    He nodded reluctantly.
    She considered his answer and continued thoughtfully. “I do see it happening. Even though she’s terribly brazen, she’s just as old-fashioned in most other ways as girls normally are in Greece. She’ll definitely win the public and especially since she’s so active with charities. Yes, I can definitely see it. But first…two things.”
    Leandro raised a brow. “What is it?”
    “First. You need to wear glasses.”
    “My eyes are fine.”
    “Then wear non-prescription ones. The point here is to make you more human, less billionaire, and more like an accidentally hot kind of nerd.”
    He choked out, “Accidentally hot?”
    Priscilla took another forkful of salad, feeling like she needed to increase her intake so her brain would work more effectively.  
    She had cleared half of her plate already when Leandro demanded, “The second thing then? What is it?” A part of him couldn’t believe he was seriously asking Priscilla for advice. She was a lovely girl, but there was no denying she was also as smart as a board.
    “Tell Bobby that you’re in love with her,” she said finally. “She told me that she’d never go to bed with someone she’s not in love with, and since I doubt you can survive being her boyfriend without having sex, well, that’s what you have to do.”
    Pretend that he loved Bobby?
    It felt like a terrifyingly easy thing to do, and that was what made Leandro uneasy.

Chapter Eight
     
    Leandro did his best to ignore all the looks that were directed his way as he entered the library wearing his new pair of fake eyeglasses. It was a Saturday morning, and the place was empty except for a few students and the library staff. All of them were looking at him, making Leandro feel ridiculously self-conscious. It was damn ironic, the way he had nerves of steel when it came to underground races, and yet the prospect of Bobby seeing him like this gave him a sense of trepidation.
    He adjusted his glasses as he started walking in between shelves, his gaze absently roaming the stacks of books lining each layer. He still had a hard time believing that he had indeed taken Priscilla up on her suggestion and went ahead with buying himself glasses.
    “Leandro?”
    He looked up, unable to believe what he was hearing.
    It was her.
    Goddammit, it was her and he was wearing his glasses.
    He almost whipped them off but stopped himself from doing so by digging his hands into his pockets.
    Bobby was staring at him.  
    It was his first time to see her in more than a week, and his eyes devoured every inch of her hungrily. Bobby had on her usual combination of large shirt and jeans, and looking at her, all he could think about was tearing her shirt away and getting his hands on her bountiful breasts.
    When she still didn’t speak, his tension grew, and he wondered if it was because she was trying to find the nicest way to tell him that he looked like shit.
    She opened her mouth and he stiffened, telling himself that he would not snap at Bobby if she ended up insulting him in the face.  
    “Have you been wearing glasses for long?”
    That was what she was going to ask? Just that?
    As Bobby waited for Leandro’s answer, she couldn’t help greedily taking her fill of him. He was so beautiful it just wasn’t funny, the way he made her feel so dreadfully ordinary next to him. Like her, he was no fashion plate. Except for the