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I throw in the last bit, but I want them to fucking crawl over glass for her. I’m rarely petty, but I’m feeling it a bit right now.
“Huh,” the big lout mutters before he gets lost in thought.
I know these two have only ever been in a relationship with each other for a long damn time, but they’re a bit emotionally stunted if you ask me.
Breathing a sigh of relief as we pull into the hotel parking lot, I pack up my bag and get everything moving. Hotel keys, luggage upstairs, ensuring the band will be able to practice as needed, etc. I’ve scoped out several restaurants within walking distance as well, and a cupcake bakery I plan to surprise Layla with. Our anniversary happens to be tomorrow, right in the middle of our crazy lives.
I just want to show her a small bit of my appreciation, even if we can’t celebrate big. I’ll figure something out, though she’s performing tomorrow. Tour life is insanely busy, where’s a guy to get some romance in too?
Throwing an arm around a yawning Layla, I bring her upstairs to our room. We’re bunking again with Draven, and I find I don’t mind it at all.
“Hey, Layla?” Mav asks as I start to open our hotel door.
“Yes?” she asks sleepily. There’s time for her to simply go back to bed if that’s what she wants to do, and I may join her. I’m done with my work until tomorrow.
“Can we talk later, do you think?” he asks.
“Yeah, maybe,” she says softly. Layla doesn’t look very convinced that she wants to and I push the door open. She’s not in the right frame of mind for this conversation until she gets more sleep, coffee, and food in that order.
“Okay,” Mav says softly. “Are you going back to bed?”
“Yes, I’m so sleepy,” she says with another huge yawn. Pushing the door open wide, I let her and Draven in. I should throw Mav and Atlas a bone, but I don’t feel like it.
They fucked up. It’s one thing if it was just a matter of Layla’s age, then they should have simply left her be. Stringing someone along and then pushing them away as violently as they did was wrong. Now they can sleep in their shit.
“Hey Baby, pick a bedroom and let’s get into pajamas,” I tell her as I slowly close the door. “Draven, you feel like a cuddle session with our girl?”
The snick of the door tells me it’s closed, and I flick the lock on it. Draven smirks as he pulls his shirt off. Layla stares as she drinks in every single ab, then starts to pull off her boots as well.
“I do fancy a cuddle session.” He smirks. “I’ll fall back asleep if she’s in my arms. I don’t know what’s with that. She’s like sleepy dust.”
Layla smiles brightly at the admission, now that we know he’s an insomniac, it hits differently. There’s something about being someone’s safe space that’s damn attractive.
Dropping our bags, we change into more comfortable clothes and climb into bed. Setting two alarms on my phone, I plug it in and place both my glasses and device on the nightstand. Layla wiggles a little until she’s comfortable, and I can tell sleep is already starting to pull her in.
“Tyler?” she says sleepily. Her words are already starting to slur, and her eyes are closing.
“Yeah, Baby?” I ask.
“Thank you for always being in my corner. I love you, and I’m so happy to ring in another year as your girl tomorrow night,” she mumbles.
Smiling, I kiss her neck, loving that she remembered. I didn’t think she would with everything happening.
“I love you too. I’m the lucky one,” I tell her as she drifts off to sleep. There’s no one in the world like Layla Campbell. She should be protected at all costs, that is if she’d let anyone do it.
Listening to Draven and Layla’s evening breaths, I decide there’s nothing wrong with having someone who’s capable of taking care of themselves. I just need to be there to throw in an assist, just like I always am.
My eyelids are getting heavy, so I'm glad I already set an alarm before getting into bed. The darkness takes over as I fall asleep quickly, wrapped around Layla.
Seventeen
LAYLA
I’m twitchy as I get dressed to meet with Seán O’Brien. The nap and shower helped a lot, and Draven got in with me to make sure I was thoroughly clean. My lips twist into a smirk as I remember the way his hands kneaded and tweaked my skin in the effort of cleanliness.
I don’t think that’s what they mean when they talk about cleanliness being next to Godliness, though.
“You’re thinking dirty things, aren’t you, Chick?” Draven teases me. I’m realizing he doesn’t mean it in a derogatory way now. “Clamp those pretty thighs together and get dressed before I keep you to myself, Layla.”
