Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“Actually, yeah. I was hoping we could spend the day together.”
Her gaze pops up. “Like all of us or just the two of us?”
“Just the two of us… if that’s okay with you. I thought it could be a good way to get things back to a starting point with us. See if the adult us still connects like the teenage us used to.”
She sucks in her bottom lip, then slowly releases it, and I wonder how she tastes, and if one day I’ll get a chance to find out. I have no doubt the adult me still wants the adult her, but I know that since she hasn’t shared the same feelings I have all these years, I need to show her how good things can be between us.
“Yeah, that’s okay with me.” She slides a bit closer. “Things have been crazy since I returned to New York. Between the move, the divorce, and finding out that after all this time, you wanted more, and I had no idea, I think spending some alone time together is a good idea.”
I pull her into my side and kiss the top of her head. “I’m going to woo the hell out of you, Layles.”
She laughs, shaking her head. She isn’t a stranger to that term. My family’s used it as long as she’s been around.
“I think… I think I’m okay with that,” she says softly, shocking the hell out of me. She lays her head back on my chest, and a few minutes later, she’s fallen back asleep.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CAMDEN
“You guys live here?” Layla gasps. “This is like a thousand of my houses.”
Declan chuckles. “More like six of your houses. But yeah, this is home.”
“We figured sharing a house would be better than living separately,” I explain. “Last year, we had a studio built so we don’t have to go to the Blackwood studio every time we want to work on our music. Traffic in LA is a bitch. Not as bad as New York, but still pretty bad.”
The guys all go their separate ways to their rooms while I give Layla a quick tour, leading her to the guest room. “This is your room. It has an en suite bathroom, and the balcony overlooks the infinity pool, rolling hills, and a bit farther out, the stadium.”
“This is perfect. Thank you.” She pulls the French doors open, leading to the outside. We picked this house because it’s in a gated community but on a good-sized piece of property. It’s our very own sanctuary.
“Wow, it’s so warm.” She laughs. “A weekend here and I might be convinced to move the hell out of frigid New York City.”
“If you think the weather will convince you, wait until you see what I have planned.”
She twirls around. “What are you up to?”
“You’ll see,” I say, giving her a playful wink. “I’ll give you a few minutes to freshen up if you need to and change into something cooler. Oh, and make sure you’re wearing comfortable shoes. We’ll be doing a good amount of walking. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
When she enters the living room about twenty minutes later, she’s in the same jeans and shirt, but in place of her boots are sneakers. When I glance up at her, I find her eyes are rimmed red, and her nose and cheeks are splotchy.
“What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head, but the second I’m off my seat and over to her, palming her face, she breaks. “David is being a dick. I tried to call to talk to Felix, but he said they’re busy. I should’ve known he would act like this.”
“Because you’re with me?”
“No, he doesn’t know I’m here or that I work for Blackwood. I didn’t want to chance him freaking out. I’ll have to tell him eventually, but…”
“I get it. But why is he acting like this?” I didn’t want to pry. I was hoping she would eventually tell me all that went down, but I can’t be there for her if I don’t know what’s going on.
Layla flinches, and my hackles rise. “Layles,” I say gently. “You know you can trust me, right?”
“I know,” she says softly. “I really just want to spend the day with you without bringing David into the mix. Can we please just enjoy our day? I promise I’ll tell you everything soon. I’m just not ready to right now.”
“Okay,” I concede, hearing the pleading in her voice. “We can do that. And when you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here.”
“Thank you,” she says, sagging in visible relief.
Since we won’t require any security where we’re going, we take off in my Mercedes C-Series Coup. It’s not often I get to actually drive it, and since it’s nice out, I ask Layla if she’s okay with rolling the windows down. Of course she is.