AllFreeNovel
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So I’m faking it. While I put in ear plugs to work, I immediately took out my right one to hear how things are going. Atlas and Mav have this way of picking at every insecure thread inside of Layla’s soul. I don’t want her to lock herself up, because I love every part of her.
Playful, daring, caring, and unsure.
Layla is twenty-six years old, and has grown up fast the last five years, but I want her to enjoy her life. I love watching her find her way, and break into who she is, the way you would shoes that you love.
Our age difference didn’t bother me at all, not from the second she smiled at me with a drink in her hand and said: “So I’m Layla. Please don’t be a dick, because my vibrator is tired.”
I almost spit my drink out. Fuck, I love this girl, but I can’t protect her from her demons, and two of the three men in there are exactly that.
Hearing Atlas bark at Layla makes my muscles tighten, and I force myself to stay sitting.Come on, Little Flower, clap back.
“All I heard was you trying to rush my process like a bully,” Layla says. I can hear her rustling on the couch as she tosses her notebook to the side. Her memory isn’t photographic, but she’s stared at the lyrics for so long, I’m sure they’re embedded into her brain.
Pretending to work by picking up the first phone and my notepad, I identify it as Mav’s and unlock it. I also tap a few strokes on my computer just so Layla and the guys can hear me.
“If you weren’t so damn slow—” Atlas begins.
“Children, for the love of God,” Draven says, thumping Atlas in the back of his head. “Chick, I’m not above throwing you over my knee to spank again, so don’t try me. Show us what you’ve been working on so we can actually be productive.”
The bus pulls away as he finishes expressing his annoyance, and I silently say goodbye to this small town.
Should I tell Draven that isn’t actually a threat?
My little flower enjoys being spanked, and I’ve been wanting to play with that idea soon. Tour life may throw a wrench in how soon it actually gets to happen though.
“Oh no, whatever will I do? You just spanked me last night, Draven. Don’t show all your cards at once now,” Layla snarks. Hiding a smile, I keep loading anti-spyware software onto devices. While I’m at it, I also set up location apps on their phones, so that I can find them anywhere. Just in case.
“What the fuck, Draven?” Mav roars, and I clear my throat to cover up my laughter.
“I promise it’s much less nefarious than the baby chick is making it seem,” Draven seethes as Layla picks up her guitar and strums it. “Thank fuck. Not that I don’t think these assholes wouldn’t enjoy watching me spank your ass red, but I’m extremely uncomfortable being this hard in your presence.”
“Already forgot my name I see,” she tsks before beginning to sing.
“I would love to forget, and sometimes I’m jealous of those who can. Forget the slights, the sins, the pain projected by others. Every rock is one I rebuild my life with, so baby give me your worst. I’ll burn the world down with the gasoline of your words.”
The music isn’t peppy the way a lot of others would think would work. No, instead, Layla makes the notes curl and twist to her own style. I strain to hear more, promising pain if they decide to mock her for her choices.
“Keep going,” Draven rasps. “Atlas, play with her. Do you have more written, Layla?”
“Yes,” she says. My little flower doesn’t mince words once she’s in the zone. Layla continues on, and Atlas chimes in as he starts to play on his keyboard.
The hairs on my arm start to stand up, and I make no move to keep working. Instead, I abandon my project to listen.
“Layla, play that last line a half an octave lower?” Mav says, interrupting her.
Layla simply stops, takes a breath, and starts again. They work together to piece her song together, making me smile. If they would stop sniping for just a few minutes, it’ll be fine.
I forget about my ear plug, letting it hang over my ear as I go back to my work, listening to them as Draven jumps in with his drum set as well. Usually, the drums would be too much stimulation for me to work around, but I find it doesn’t bother me either.
“The song is solid,” Atlas rasps as the last note fades away. “Your voice really shines through in the emotion of the song, too. Why didn’t you want to work on it with us?”
Because it’s about you, dingbat.
“There’s a lot of emotions in this song, and I wasn’t sure if I could objectively work on it.” Is all she says instead as she puts up the guitar. “Thanks for helping me with it, I think it’s good.”
Layla sounds tapped out, and I shake my head at how obtuse Mav and Atlas are. I’m proud of her for sticking it out, but I can tell she needs a break.
“Lay,” I call out, willing to give her an out.
