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As the waitress walks away, I lean forward. “I am most definitely not an ax murderer, but I do occasionally bite,” I warn her.
Layla rolls her eyes, her hand covering her lower neck. Her shirt covers the hickey I probably gave her there. I didn’t mean to, I just got a little ahead of myself.
“Ugh, we have a show in a few days, I should have been more careful,” I wince.
“Makeup,” she says with a shrug. Meeting my eyes, her gaze is happy and at ease. “I’m really not worried about it. So why are we on your first ever date? You are clearly gorgeous.”
“Clearly,” I chuckle. “I haven’t been one who enjoys dating. Lyrica and I kind of fell into a relationship, and while we hadsome fun times, we also were really toxic. Being out of her orbit is helping me realize just how bad it used to be.”
“I’m sorry,” she says sincerely. “I had roommates like that. My dad wanted me to stay safe, and he vetted and found these guys for me to live with. It honestly is kind of bizarre now that I think about it. Unsurprisingly, they could play fairly well, so we went on gigs together. Outside of that, I wasn’t allowed to work or go out. I was stuck in this gilded cage.”
“Your dad knew about this?” I ask, my lips twisting in annoyance.
“There’s a reason people think I’m this pampered princess.” Layla shrugs. “Growing up, I practically lived at the label, and then I fell into playing with a band. I wasn’t allowed to talk to boys, in fact Leo and Albert really enjoyed cock blocking me.”
“What about your sister?” I ask. I feel like a man dying of thirst. I just want to know everything.
“My father isn’t a great person,” she says with a sigh. “He left her when she was little and didn’t look back. I wouldn’t even know I had a sister if I wasn’t a professional eavesdropper. My dad and Uncle Jordan have had some really wicked fights. I found out she was my sister shortly after I opened for her band.”
“Wow,” I mutter. “You obviously have some kind of connection with Atlas and Mav. I just don’t understand why the animosity on their end.”
“I’m a reminder of the life they left behind,” Layla says sadly. “They got in too deep with their best friend’s baby sister, and I was devastated. I didn’t know how to handle being on that bus after the constant teasing. I thought they actually liked me. So I went home and my brothers-in-law made me my very own rage room in the backyard.”
I can just imagine Layla fucking shit up after my best friends fucked things up. I’m sad they fucked up with her, but I meant it. They need to work it out with her. I’m not getting in the middle.
Swallowing hard, I think about what it would be like to be her. Emotions and I are not typically friends. “Did breaking shit help?” I ask.
“It did.” She smirks. “I even wrote a song while Lenny, some friends, and I beat the hell out of things. It was therapeutic.”
“Do you perform this song?” I ask. That’ll be interesting. Atlas and Mav have an idea of how they hurt her because we’ve heard some of it in her songs. I’m not against some exposure experiments to make sure they understand how much they fucked up.
“It’s rare.” She shrugs again. “I recorded it, though. It’s a lot of emotion to drop on people.”
We chat easily until the food comes, and I swear I about die as her sexy noises begin as she eats.
“I’m going to have to lock you up when you eat,” I grumble. “Your noises have me rock hard right now, Lovely. I do love how much you enjoy food, though.”
“There’s a happy wiggle dance when I get sweet treats,” Layla teases me.
I need to see this. We are stuffed, though. Deciding we’ll have to come back just for dessert one day, I link my fingers through hers as we walk out of the restaurant after settling the bill.
“Oh crap,” she groans as we step out onto the sidewalk.
“What? Did you forget something?” I ask her.
“I have to call the execs atMusic Horde Records.”She sighs. “They should hopefully still be at the office. At least one of them should be. I’m still worried about my uncle, and I don’t know if that’s why Kyle wanted me to call.”
Digging out her phone, I hand it to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “Let’s see what’s going on while we walk,” I suggest.
Layla calls the label as we continue to the hotel, asking to speak to one of the senior executives.
“Hi, Mr. Laurence,” Layla says as they connect her. “I’m sorry it’s the tail end of the day. I’ve been practicing all day and… You haven’t heard from my uncle?”
Squeezing her shoulder, I gesture for her to put the phone on speaker.
“I’m sorry, Layla. No one’s heard from him, and he didn’t make his appointment today either with his new lead singer. This isn’t like him,”the exec, Mr. Laurence says.
“This is going to be really weird, but have there been any strange calls or emails talking about a ransom?” she asks. Her voice sounds off, and my eyes pinch as I realize she’s trying not to cry. All I can do is walk with her and send her strength.
