Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“You are?” Layla says.
Noah glances at the house. “Don’t mention I said anything. It’s early days. We’re looking at options. There are obvious concerns.”
I can tell he doesn’t want to mention Elena’s age or imply anything is wrong with her.
“Do you remember what you said?”
“I couldn’t imagine having a family. I couldn’t imagine bringing children into the world. It scared me I’d become like Dad and be as much a monster as he was. I worried about hurting or scarring them.”
“But you don’t feel that way anymore,” Noah says, making it a statement rather than a question. “Sure, it’s a shock when you talked about wanting a family with Layla, and maybe that’s an understatement, but you sounded certain, bro. There’s something else… something I’ve always wanted for you.”
I wait, and he finishes. “You sounded hopeful and ready for the future.”
Reaching across the table, I take Layla’s hand. I can’t resist it any longer, feeling her pain and uncertainty radiating from her without being able to offer any comfort. She holds me tightly.
“I’ve never been more ready for anything,” I tell him. “Thanks for not hating us.”
“I could never hate you,” Noah replies. “You’re the best man I know. You’ve always been the best person I’ve known since we were kids. What you did for me with that man…”
That man, our father, the devil.
“You’d have to do a whole lot worse than love somebody to clean that slate.”
There’s the word again. Love. It’s true, but Layla and I haven’t said it to each other. Depending on Elena’s response, we might not get a chance, or we’ll say it anyway and have to let it go. Can we do that? I know I can’t.
“It’s best to give Elena some time to cool off,” Noah says.
“I’ll book us a hotel,” I reply.
Layla gives me a look. I get it.
It’s the be good eyes again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Layla
“Adjoining rooms?” Tess says, staring at me from the laptop.
I sit up in bed. It’s past midnight, but sleep feels like a distant joke with no punchline coming.
Tess has rollers in her black hair, and she’s wearing a face mask. Usually, I might banter with her about this, but I can’t summon the enthusiasm for anything that isn’t about Miles or Mom or the mess we made.
“I told him I didn’t want to, you know, until Mom gave her blessing.”
This was a lie. I obviously want to.
“Noah was okay with it?” Tess says.
“I think so. You should’ve heard this story he told about Miles, the love in his voice. Miles wants this, Tess, badly. He’s never been sure about anybody, but now he’s sure about me. It’s a miracle.”
“What’s stopping you from going into his room any time you want?” Tess asks.
I grin, then force it away. Each smile feels like a betrayal since I stuffed a suitcase and sat in the car with Miles, driving away from my house, maybe forever. What if Mom never gives us her blessing?
“Are you trying to encourage me?” I say. “Honestly, nothing’s stopping us, except we can’t betray Mom again.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You are helping, Tess. I hope you know that. Just being willing to talk about my craziness is a massive help.”
She beams. “I’ll always be willing to do that.”
“Even if it’s icky?”
“Hey, I told you I didn’t mean that.”
“I’m only kidding. Anyway, I think Mom agrees. She said our kids would have a difficult life because Miles is my step-uncle.”
“Why? She thinks they’d be bullied?”
I shrug. “Maybe, and she might be right.”
“She could be, or she could be wrong, and they’ll have a great time at school. Either way, kids get bullied for lots of reasons. They’re experts at finding reasons. I don’t think that’s a basis for ending this relationship before it begins.”
“Thanks, Tess.”
It’s the early hours of the morning. Sleep still feels far off.
Climbing to my feet, I walk across the expensive hotel room, pressing my ear against the adjoining door. Heavy breathing and low grunting come from Miles’ room. What the heck is he doing in there? Masturbating?
I push my ear closer against the door, listening to his deep grunts, my thoughts coming alive with an image of him sitting shirtless in bed, his huge length in his hand, pumping as he thinks of me. Leaning closer, the door whines, and the grunting stops.
“Layla?” he growls, nearer than I thought.
He’s right next to the door. I should turn the lock, return to bed, and pretend I didn’t hear anything. I should think of Mom standing at the front window as Miles loaded my suitcase into the car. She had her arms folded, her eyes shining with tears. I’m the one who asked for adjoining rooms to begin with.
“Yeah?” I murmur.
He pulls the door open, giving me a sense of déjà vu. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of shorts, sweat sliding down his muscled body, causing his pecs and abs to shine in the lamplight.