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“Oh my God!” I hear Stella scream. “Layla! The fuck?!”
I laugh and so does Layla. She brings the phone back to her ear and listens as Stella yells at her. “No, I didn’t plan to meet up with him. It was coincidental. I swear.” More listening. “You can’t say anything to anyone, not Meils or even Delphine because your lady lover has a mouth like an old woman in a beauty salon. I’m hanging up on you now, but I love you and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“No! Layla, wait—”
Layla cuts her friend off by hitting the end button and then she shoves her phone back into her purse.
“Well, Dr. Barrows. This is certainly a surprise. Were you stalking me?”
“Definitely not. I was driving home.”
She glances around. “If that’s so, then where is your car?”
“My friend Asher took it since I left him stranded when I came after you.”
A smile blooms sweet and pretty across her pink lips and her eyebrows bounce suggestively. “Asher Reyes is hot. Too bad he left. I’ve always had a thing for athletes.”
“Brat.”
She laughs and then takes my arm, giving me a solid tug. “Come on. You need a ride now.”
We fly up the street and then she’s unlocking her Tesla X for us.
She starts up the nearly silent car, music blasting through her speakers that she immediately lowers. We buckle up and then she’s pulling us into late-night traffic.
The way she’s positioned in her seat makes my cock throb in my jeans. Her legs are slightly spread, her foot pressing in on the gas, making the hem of her dress hike up so high that if I angle myself forward and dip my head, I’d have no trouble seeing what color the panties covering her pussy are.
“What were you going to do if I hadn’t saved you?” she teases. “You’re like… miles from your house and dressed like a sexy guy.” I get a quick once over before her eyes turn back to the road. “Women would have been jumping your bones left and right, desperate to get a piece of you.”
“I’m sure I could have managed.”
She tosses me a dubious look. “Doubtful. You should start carrying pepper spray.”
“Ha, ha. You’re very funny, but your point has been made.”
“I doubt that,” she mocks. “Anyway, you should know I wasn’t headed home.”
“No?” I remark, shifting on the soft leather so I can be just a bit closer to her. Her car smells like her. Sweet and edible. It’s also very her on the inside. High-energy music and a metal water bottle sitting in the cup holder that says, daily reminder to stay hydrated and not give a fuck what other people think. She has a Dartmouth sweatshirt on her back seat and an extra pair of ratty old sneakers on the floor.
“Nope. Wanna go on an adventure with me? It’s a little dark and twisted.”
“I don’t see how I can allow you to go alone.”
She plays with her smile, the tiny stud in her nose glinting against the huge screen in her car. “All right, hero. You’ve been warned. Now you’re stuck with me.”
She could be taking me to a cemetery or the morgue right now and I wouldn’t care. Good thing too because twenty minutes later we’re pulling through the neo-Gothic gate of a cemetery in Jamaica Plain.
“Something you want to explain?”
She weaves her way through the dark cemetery, clearly knowing where she’s going. “What? Some of these graves are hundreds of years old and hold the remains of some of Boston’s wealthiest people. Don’t tell me you’re not into grave robbing.”
“Only in the winter when it’s more of a challenge to dig.”
Her uninhibited belly laugh fills the car. “You know you might be as weird and deadpan as I am.” She stops the car, putting it in park. “There,” she says, pointing to one large stone that boasts two epitaphs. “My parents. Today is my mom’s birthday and with school, the hospital, and helping out Stella, I didn’t have a chance before now to come and visit her.”
Oh. Guilt interlaced with sadness hit me like the stench of week-old trash. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
She waves me away. “Thank you. That’s sweet, but I was six when they died, so I’m not about to break down or anything if you’re worried. Visiting them makes me happy instead of sad. I tell them things and they hear me and it’s all good.” She twists so she’s angled toward me, her eyes all over me, and I love it when she does this. Gives me her undivided attention. I’m only too happy to return the favor. “You’re not the sort of guy who is freaked out by dead people, are you?”
