Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66291 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66291 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
I nod, not able to utter a single damn word right now.
Falcon looks over my shoulder and nods, and soon piano notes begin to fill the room. Keeping hold of my hand, he pulls me toward an open space where a violinist is standing next to a grand piano.
“I can’t dance,” I whisper urgently. “Falcon!”
He turns to face me with such an intense look all I can do is swallow. He guides my hand to his shoulder before placing his on my lower back and then closes the meager distance between us until our fronts are touching. My breaths begin to speed up when he raises our joined hands, and then he takes a step forward.
Oh. My. God.
Falcon holds me so tight, giving him full control over our movements. By the grace of all that’s holy, I manage to not mess things up, and when I get used to the pattern of our steps, I actually have a moment to appreciate the music.
Delicate notes drift around me, and it feels as if everything slows down, everything fades until it’s just us and the piano piece.
Slowly my eyes drift up until they find Falcon’s, and again I forget to breathe.
He was serious.
Falcon was dead serious, and it’s written all over his face as he stares down at me.
We get along well… and like each other.
Falcon likes me.
For a moment, while the notes weave a spell around us, happiness flows through me.
But it’s only for a moment.
Because he is Falcon Reyes.
And me? I’m just Layla.
Tongue-tied.
Out of my depth.
And as elegant as a baby moose taking its first steps.
Yeah, that about sums up the past hour of my life. I’ve been trying my best to be social, but ever since the dance, my whole existence feels wobbly.
There’s also Serena who somehow keeps popping up in my line of sight and the glares coming from her is icy enough to save the world from global warming.
And last, but definitely not least… Slowly, I turn my head to Falcon who’s standing next to me. My eyes glide over his side profile. The self-assured set of his shoulders. The cultured smile as he talks with others.
He’s a god and I a mere mortal.
He’s a mountain lion, and I’m… a baby moose.
He’s Jupiter, and I am Mercury.
He’s the kind of man you only dream about because being with him is the end disguised as the beginning. It’s the end of your individuality because there is no way your light can keep burning and not be consumed by his inferno.
I don’t think I can give up who I am for anyone. Dad taught me to love myself first. Only then will I be able to love someone else unconditionally. If I have to let go of my dreams, who I am, and who I want to become, I’ll only end up resenting him.
Sadness sprouts in my heart because the chance to fall in love with Falcon was only a cruel illusion.
“You ready to go?” Falcon asks.
My eyes come back into focus on his heartbreakingly, beautiful face. I nod, and he takes hold of my hand, linking our fingers together. I follow Falcon out of the hall, my gaze glued to our joined hands.
I try to memorize the feel of his skin against mine. I try to remember what it felt like to rest my head against his chest the night he comforted me.
I try.
In the shadows between two lamp posts, my feet falter to a stop. Falcon turns back to me, and I longingly take one last look at our hands before I pull mine free.
“Did you mean it?” I ask, not wanting to sound like an idiot if Falcon was only joking.
“What?” He asks and shifts to stand in front of me. “About us dating?”
“Yes.” I stare at the top button of his dress shirt, not having enough courage to meet his eyes.
“I meant it.”
My tongue darts out, wetting my lips, which feel parched. “Falcon, you’re an heir to CRC Holdings.”
“My family doesn’t have a say in who I date,” Falcon interrupts me.
He sees right through me with those gorgeous, intelligent eyes.
“We come from two different worlds.” I force my eyes up to meet his. “You have a private jet. I like to take road trips. You go to world-class resorts. I like roughing it in a cabin. The suit you wear costs more than all my belongings combined. But I love my belongings. I love my down-to-earth life.”
A breeze picks up and blows some of my hair across my neck. Falcon reaches for the strands, and his knuckles graze against my neckline as he brushes it back.
“That’s one of the things I like about you, Layla. There’s no pretense. You never hesitate to show what you’re feeling. You have spirit, and I don’t believe you understand the meaning of backing down even when you’re outnumbered. The girls I grew up with,” he shakes his head, “they’d still be in the hospital after going through the same thing you did. But not you. You defend yourself instead of calling the family lawyer or having your mother deal with the problem.”