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Layla’s voice doesn’t have any humor in it the closer I get to the room. Glancing at Tyler, I notice that he is looking down at her with concern.
“Pull her up,” he says seriously.
Stopping, I lift her gently and place her on her feet. Her head is down, so I can’t see her face.
“Come on, little fighter, look at me,” I cajole softly. Her shoulders shudder and she shakes her head.
“So many nicknames. Is this how you get away without remembering anyone’s names?” she deflects.
“Layla, your name has been burned into my mind since I met you. Look at me,” I command.
Slowly, her head rises, and I see her eyes are red and shiny with unshed tears.
“It was shitty of them to make you feel as if they wouldn’t fuck you because of an issue they have,” I tell her softly. “You were their best friend’s little sister. What if they were worried about fucking it up?”
“If they were worried about what they thought, they wouldn’t have left my sister’s wedding before it was even over,” Layla scoffs. “Atlas and Mav were cowards then and they still are. I’m sorry, I really don’t think this is going to work. I’m tired of agreeing to do things to keep from rocking the boat.”
Glancing around, she sees a couch in the middle of the lobby and lights up. Oh no. That’s not happening.
“You’re sleeping in the room,Layla,” I rasp, turning her toward the room. She startles as I emphasize her name. “I know your name because it’s branded on my brain. Keeping you from trouble is going to be a full time job I see.”
Tyler rubs the back of his neck, shaking his head as Layla wraps the blanket tighter around herself.
“I’m not your responsibility,” she yawns, her jaw cracking. “I’m sleepy, and just want to go to bed. Anywhere. Why can’t I sleep on the couch over there?”
She sounds like she’s pouting, and it’s mildly cute. Ugh, yes, she’s like a puppy. I’m not interested in the least. Down, boy. No fucking the tiny pain in the ass.
“It’s not safe,” I tell her as I steer her toward my room. “You’re a celebrity, a musician, and you need a damn door between you and the rest of the world.”
“I’m standing right here,” Tyler says, but his lips twitch. Glad he’s enjoying my arguing with the tiny, sleepy blonde right now.
“You don’t get a say. Hush. You were going to let her sleep outside on the damn roof,” I complain. “We’ll figure things out tomorrow over coffee and breakfast. Preferably much later. The only responsible adult here right now needs some sleep.”
Layla’s shoulders are visibly shaking, and I wonder if I broke her. Is she crying? Did I offend her? Damn, usually I’m better with women than this.
A snort sounds and Layla almost trips. Oh my god, she’s laughing. “That’s rich,” she giggles. “You’retheadult. Oh my god, we’re all in so much trouble.”
Tyler huffs out a laugh, and I shake my head in indignation. “I’m perfectly fit to right this ship,” I tell them. “Oh come on!”
Layla falls into her boyfriend’s arms as she laughs, and he catches her, looking down at her in amusement.
“We’re seriously fucked, aren’t we, Little Flower?” he asks softly.
“Without lube,” she cackles up at him, making a chuckle escape from me. My dick thickens at the mention of lube, and I give up the fight. She’s just going to have to deal with my erection grinding into her ass tonight.
“Ha ha ha,” I grumble as I corral them both toward the room. Opening the door, I have to say they are adorable together. “So how long have you two been together?”
“Five years,” she says automatically, making me surprised. That’s an odd overlap. Layla doesn’t seem like the type to cheat, especially not with Tyler.
“I met her online, shortly after the tour fiasco with Atlas and Mav,” he says softly as they walk inside.
This all gets more and more twisted. I need to talk to Mav and Atlas about this, figure out what happened on their end. My brain hurts.
Shutting down my brain, I close the door behind me.
“Change and get ready for bed. No outside clothing in my bed,” I grunt, pulling off my hoodie.
“What?” Layla asks, already halfway to her bag to pull out pajamas.
