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“There’s also the issue of there only being two beds,” Draven says as he walks back toward the rooms. We’re on the bottom floor, which means easy access to escape. I can already feel a pit of unease in my stomach.
Layla glances at a notice for rooftop access, and I can tell she’s wondering if she can just sleep there.
“Is there a sofa?” I ask with a sigh. I can make us a comfortable bed and she can sleep on me. As long as we don’t have to listen to people fucking, that is…
Unfortunately, as Draven opens the door to the hotel room that’s exactly what I hear.
“You’re going to take my cock like the dirty little whore you are, aren’t you baby?” Mav growls from his room. It’s closed, but these walls may as well be made of paper.
Layla takes a step into the room, as if she can’t stop herself. Bringing in the bags, I take my computer bag before she drops it.
“Fuck me, Daddy. Please,” Atlas groans. He sounds as if he’s partially blissed out and partially in pain.
“Wonderful, they skipped the gag this time,” Draven sighs as he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. “Well then, pillows are in the closet and there are more blankets in there too. What’s wrong with the chick?”
His eyes are on Layla as tears run down her cheeks, her breath hitching. She told me about the night Atlas and Mav kissed her, teased her, played with her beautiful pussy, and then freaked out just before she came. Horny and angry, she watched as they left her on the couch as if she may light them on fireto disappear into the bus bedroom to fuck each other. I can see she’s reliving that day.
“Don’t worry about it,” I grunt, knowing I sound like an ass as I follow on her heels when she turns and flees from the room. It’s not my story to tell. Mav and Atlas need to pull their heads out of their asses, or figure out how to stop hurting my girl.
They are putting on a different kind of show tonight, and I am not entertained.
“Lay,” I say softly as I wrap my arm around her waist, hauling her against my chest. Her gasped sob breaks my heart as I bury my face in her sweet cherry blossom scent. “Talk to me, Little Flower. Tell me what you want to do.”
“I want… to punch something,” she whispers, clinging to the other arm that I band around her body. “If I can’t do that, I want to go up to the roof and write. I’m not going back there to sleep.”
“Your wish is my command,” I tell her. There’s rooftop access from the elevators, I saw. I guess we’re watching the sunrise from there. “It’s going to be cold up there, so I’m going to go ask the front desk receptionist for a blanket, notepad, and pen. Unless you want a pencil instead?”
“Pen is fine,” she says, shifting her face so her nose is buried in my throat. “Thank you.”
Moving away from her, I stride across the lobby. I have a purpose, and may even see if I can grab an extra pillow.
“Hi, I was wondering if I could get a few things. I know it’s late,” I tell her. The receptionist seems bored, and perks up as I look at her. As she drinks me in, my tone becomes a little more gruff because the only person I want staring at me like that is Layla. “I need a blanket, pillow, notebook and pen please.”
Flinching, she realizes she’s being unprofessional, and scurries to grab the items I’ve asked for. Not wanting to be a complete ass, I thank her as I collect them. The only person Iwant to stare at me with heat in their eyes is hiding around the corner, struggling to get her hurt and confusion under control.
My items secured for a good hide and rage session, I hurry back to Layla. She looks up at me with puffy eyes, and I smile gently at her.
“I can’t help you break shit, but we can find a spot to chill and process, Baby,” I promise. “Let’s find the elevator, yeah?”
Nodding, she walks with me to the elevator bank. It happens to already be on this floor since it’s so late and we enter inside of it.
“I wasn’t expecting to be so upset by them,” she whispers as I hit the button for rooftop access. If anyone gives us shit, I’ll growl and bribe them. Nothing is keeping me from giving Layla what she needs. We aren’t sleeping in that goddamn room with the exhibitionists. “I was surprised when I saw they were who I’d be working with, and then I decided to suck it up, but now…”
“Tell me, Little Flower. Take your time.” I really wanted to beat the shit out Mav and Atlas when I heard them. Not because I have any issues with their relationship, but for the heartbreak their flaunting it causes Layla. It makes her feel as if she’s not enough for them.
I saw their faces when she came on my fingers, though, at the bar. I saw the hunger on their faces. They have a long way to go before they’ll earn the pleasure of being responsible for her noises and shivers.
For now, those will continue to be mine.
“It hurts,” she admits, dashing away tears. “I know I started things when you made me come at the bar, but that wasn’t vindictive. This was. It reminds me of when they made me feel like there was a chance they could want me as someone on their level instead of Lenny’s sister that was just hanging around. This makes me feel as if I’m not good enough.”
“Not good enough for what?” I rasp. Layla is one of the best people I know. Even when she’s angry, she fuels that energy into breaking shit, writing songs, and making something beautiful. She doesn’t make an effort to hurt people.
Words have power and last for a long time after they’ve first been heard.
“I don’t know. There are days where I wonder if I’m not good enough for Mav and Atlas, or a singing career, or even my life. Imposter syndrome starts to eat at me, and then it’s an endless cycle,” Layla explains as the elevator dings to announce that we’re at the rooftop and the doors open.
Motioning for her to step out first, I follow as I think about that. The rooftop area has a now closed bar area, as well as lots of cute nooks and seating. It’s currently abandoned, but there’s a corner that’s calling my name.
