AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I won’t lie and say the women are unattractive, but I am not interested at all. The lady waves me over, displaying an empty glass, and beckons for me to join her. She puffs out her chest and gives me a seductive look.
It’s funny how little they matter to me. I may have walked over there and gotten laid tonight, but that was before Layla.
I pull my attention away from the women, but then I sit there, thinking about what I’m going to say to Layla. I don’t get reckless. I don’t do impulsive. Why the fuck am I here then, staring at her window, wanting to catch a hint of her through the open curtains?
Interrupting my train of thought, I hear feet approaching. The sound is low and light, and I know right off the bat it’s one of the loud women. The brazen one who offered me a drink appears at my side.
I look up from my seat.
Her large, red lips are puckered as she seductively leans forward to give me an ample view of her cleavage. “Hey there,” she coos. I don’t respond. “Would you like a drink? We’re celebrating.”
“I can hear,” I deadpan.
She lifts her hand playfully to her chest. “Oh, no, were we being too loud? I’m so sorry. Let me be so kind, and make it up to you,” she drawls out.
Her hand reaches out and touches my arm.
I grab her wrist in a knee-jerk reaction. Her mouth twists up into a smirk.
“We can sneak into the bath—”
“Not interested.” I don’t let her finish that sentence. I remove her hand from my arm and drop her wrist.
She gasps, but I don’t give a flying fuck. I hear the tapping of her shoes as she storms off back to her table.
With a shake of the head, I think about my Layla. How easy it is to be with her. How I don’t feel like this with her. Indifferent to the world around me.
With her, I actually feel.
Reaching into my pocket, I grab my phone and call her.
“Hi,” she answers, and just hearing her voice has me smiling. Which is insane. For years, I’ve perfected how to fake my reactions, and with her, it’s instinctual. At first, I thought it was because she reminded me of my past . . .
Layla is the first person to elicit a genuine emotion from me in seventeen years, and I like that it has nothing to do with my past, it’s just her.
“Hello, Layla.”
She’s quiet for a second. “I-I wasn’t expecting your call. Is everything okay?” Her voice is soft, and she sounds concerned.
“I’m actually heading back to the city.”
“You are?”
This time when she speaks, I only hear the excitement that radiates from her words. When I look up at her window, I see her move toward it. As if she just knows I’m here for her. We are two magnets. Different in so many ways, but like attracts like.
I should tell her I’m coming to see her, but I don’t, instead opting to lie.
“I have work to do in Lower Manhattan, but I hope that maybe we can see each other while I’m there.”
It’s necessary to omit details. I don’t know her. I don’t know how far I can trust her. Not really. She might see my monsters and run if I let her see too much.
“Will you be working the entire time?”
“Hopefully not.”
The lie feels bitter on my tongue, and then this strange feeling weaves its way through me.
And I wonder if this is guilt.
“Well,”—she sounds dejected, but I don’t stop the course—“if you’re free, call me.”
“I will.”
I feel like shit when we hang up. I’ve never felt like this before. Hmm. Maybe once before, but I was wrong. No, that was different. I turned my back on her and hadn’t thought of her again until I recently saw her.
My mind starts to remember, but just as it does, I receive a text.
Looking down, I see the message from a name I haven’t seen in a long damn time.
Only one sentence is typed, but it makes my back go ramrod straight.
We need to talk.
29
Layla
Watching a clock never makes time go by any faster, yet here I am . . .
Still watching.
Still waiting.
Time moves slower when you’re anxious, but in my case, it feels like it stopped altogether.
I know we didn’t have actual plans to see each other, but that doesn’t stop me from waiting.
Especially since the call came in yesterday and it’s been radio silence until a few hours ago. When he texted that he’s actually in NYC and he’s coming over tonight.
Walking across my living room, I take a seat on the couch and grab the remote. Scrolling through the channels, nothing catches my attention.
Not a damn thing. “Ugh.” I groan before standing up, shutting the TV off, and heading back into my bedroom and the closet.
