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I stand there, the sun burning my skin, and watch Layla. I struggle to see the resemblance between her and Deanna, but I fail.
Is Luke wrong, or am I too involved to see it?
Chapter fifteen
Layla
It felt like an interrogation.
This is all I can think about as Tristan and I approached his jet on the tarmac. The jet is sleek, white, and on. The roar of its engine is deafening as I put a hand to my ear. Tristan holds my other hand, leading me to the plane.
Speaking with Tristan’s smug-looking best friend with the beach blond hair felt like an interrogation. His icy eyes bore into me like they were searching for secrets. I won’t lie; it bothered me. But I think I did an excellent job of not showing it.
Tristan turns to me and screams something, but I can’t hear him over the sound of the plane. One of the flight crew lowers the folding staircase, and we make our way into the aircraft. A busty hostess in a blue uniform welcomes us into the cabin.
I notice that she smiles at Tristan and barely glances at me. For some reason I can’t explain, I slip my hand into Tristan’s. Her face tightens, and I get a perverse sense of joy from her pain.
“Champagne?” The blonde hostess asks, she smiles back but weaker this time.
Tristan turns to me, his brows lifted. I shake my head. I think I’ve had enough alcohol over the past few days. Besides, something about the alcohol has been making me feel sickly the past two days.
“Sparkling water is fine.” Tristan waves her off. “For both of us.”
We settle into the white leather seats across from each other. The pilot tells us to fix our seatbelts, and we comply. I meet Tristan’s eyes. He’s wearing a brown leather jacket with a white shirt underneath paired with blue jeans. His eyes look tired like he didn’t get much sleep the previous night.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” He removes his jacket and throws it onto another seat.
“You look tired.” I shrug like I don’t care, even though asking shows I care.
“I need some sleep and—” Tristan lets out a breath, “—I think I miss Ruby.”
I watch his eyes flicker with emotion as the waitress brings a tray with two glasses of sparkling water. She bends in front of me so her ass is in Tristan’s face. I look at him, and he isn’t even paying any attention to her.
“Thank you,” I say, smirking.
“You’re welcome.” She almost rolls her eyes.
When she leaves, I put the glass to my lips and turned to the window. To my shock, I saw clear clouds. The takeoff was so smooth I hadn’t even noticed we were in the air. I drank, the water calming nerves I didn’t know I had.
“I miss her, too. I can imagine her running around, chasing calves and cattle around. I’m pretty sure the dreadful stuffed animals on the walls will scare her.” I snicker.
Tristan chuckles, rubbing his palms together. Then, his expression darkens. “Wait, how do you know about the stuffed animals?”
My heart skips a beat.
“I never mentioned that to you, Layla.” Tristan watches me with eagle-eyed suspicion.
“I told you Deanna used to be really free with the other girls—” I put my glass to my lips as if to drink when it’s really to give myself time to regain some composure, “—she had one or two parties at her ranch, yeah.”
“Deanna had parties?” Tristan doesn’t look like he believes me.
“Sure.” I nod, willing myself to look sincere. “Once or twice.”
Tristan says nothing for a while. We settle into a comfortable silence as we sit across from each other. The white jet is so good that it doesn’t even feel like moving. I watch Tristan as he has his eyes closed.
His chest heaves lightly in his white shirt, and his huge arms strain against the fabric as his fingers hold onto the armrest. His muscular legs are apart, and I imagine straddling him on the chair right there. Then, the guilt hits me again. I’d only just spoken about my sister, and within the same hour, I fantasized about straddling her husband.
