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I laugh. “I was worried I might get fired. Of course, the night’s still young.”
“No one’s going to fire you. I won’t let them.” Suddenly, Layla looks away, and I can tell she’s distracted by the voice.
“Hey,” I say as I pull her back to me. “Don’t listen to her. Whatever she said, she’swrong.” I cup her face in my hands. “Who do you trust?”
She smiles. “You. But what she said is true. It’s my fault you were hurt. If it weren’t for me, that never would have happened.”
“Come here.” I lead her out of the bathroom, back to the sofa in her room, and we sit. I find myself staring at her lips, so soft and pink and kissable. So damn tempting. But I force myself to put the brakes on. Even though we’re officially dating, she’s not ready for a serious relationship.
It’s ironic that Layla has all the money in the world, but the simple things she wants can’t be bought. “What do you want, Layla? If you could have anything, what would it be?”
She’s silent a moment as she contemplates my question. “What I want most is to be normal, like any other girl my age. I want to have a boyfriend. I want to move out and be independent. I love my parents to death, but I want a chance to be on my own, to prove that I can take care of myself.”
“Do you think you’re ready for that? It’s a big step.”
She chuckles. “I wouldn’t be completely alone, would I?” She reaches up and touches my face. “If I moved out on my own, you would come with me, right? And not just as my bodyguard. We could share a place.”
“I have an apartment in a nice, secure building. If you really want to move out, and your parents are okay with it, we could move into my place.”
Her eyes widen as my suggestion sinks in. “Are you serious?”
“Why not? But your parents would have to agree. And we could start with a trial run. We could stay at my place for a weekend and see how it goes. I think your parents would feel better about the whole idea if we did it in stages.”
“Oh, my god, yes!” She grabs hold of my shirt and pulls me close, planting one on my cheek. “Let’s do it.”
Chapter 35
Layla Alexander
My mind reels at the thought of spending an entire weekend with Jason at his apartment. I jump to my feet. “I’m going to ask them right now.” I can barely contain my excitement. This is something I’ve dreamed of for a long time.
Jason walks downstairs with me to the living room, where we find my parents enjoying glasses of wine. We sit side-by-side on the love seat across from my parents.
“Mom, Dad,” I say, “There’s something I want to tell you. I mean ask you.”
Mom sets her wineglass on the coffee table. “What’s that, sweetheart?”
The words pour out of me in a nervous rush. “It’s not that I’m unhappy here at home, because I’m not. I love you guys. And I love living here. I love this house. But there comes a time in everyone’s life when they feel ready—” My pulse takes off and my throat closes up on me.
Jason rubs my back, offering silent support. His quiet, steady presence gives me the courage to keep going.
They’ll never agree to this.
You don’t know that.
You can’t be trusted on your own.
Oh, stop it.
I laugh nervously when I realize my parents are watching me. “Sorry. What I wanted to say is I’ve been thinking about moving out on my own—well, not completely on my own, but with my bodyguard, of course. Before you say anything, I would just like to remind you that a lot of people my age have already moved out of their parents’ homes. A lot of students live on campus or in apartments. I’d just be doing what so many others my age already do.”
“I see,” my father says in a neutral tone. “Apparently, you’ve given this some thought.”
“I have.” When Mom still hasn’t said anything, I keep blabbering on. “Jason suggested we do a trial weekend at his apartment. That is, if you guys are okay with the idea.”
“And where is that?” my mom asks.
“He lives in an apartment building on Lake Shore Drive. It’s not far from Ian’s townhouse.”
