Chapter seven.

Layla's POV.

I couldn’t sleep.

No matter how many times I turned over, rearranged the pillows, my mind refused to rest. Thoughts kept circling, tumbling over one another... fragments of the past and all.

And beneath it all, like a quiet undertone I couldn’t shut out, there was him.

Liam.

It was ridiculous how much space he’d begun to occupy in my thoughts. Every time I tried to reason with myself... to draw the line between reality and temptation, my imagination betrayed me, painting his face in the dark corners of my mind.

With a sigh, I sat up.

My skin buzzed with restlessness, and I knew I wouldn’t find sleep lying here like this.

I slipped on a robe, tied it loosely around my waist, and headed towards the kitchen; maybe a cup of milk could help relax my head and I could finally get some sleep.

I blindly found the switch to the kitchen light and turned it on, then proceeded to pull out a can of milk, grabbing a mug and poured out a sizable quantity.

I leaned back against the counter, letting my mind settle, while I sipped my glass of milk.

Suddenly, there was a rustling sound behind me and I quickly turned around, startled.

“Oh!” I gasped, clutching my already fast beating heart trying to calm down as my gaze landed on him.

Liam.

He stood in the doorway, hands raised slightly in apology, a half-smile tugging at his lips. "I'm sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

I exhaled, pressing a hand over my chest. “You did anyway,” I muttered, trying to steady my breathing. “What are you doing up?”

He stepped further into the kitchen, barefoot, wearing a plain white T-shirt and dark sweatpants. His hair was a little tousled, his eyes half-lidded from sleep. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said simply. “Came to get some water.”

“Seems to be a common problem tonight,” I said quietly.

He responded with a small smile and moved toward the fridge.

I found myself watching him, every move he made, my eyes followed.

He opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and leaned back against the counter opposite me. He twisted the cap, tilted his head slightly, and began to drink.

I shouldn’t have been looking. I knew that. But somehow, my eyes refused to move away. The sound of him swallowing, the way his throat worked as he drank, the subtle flex of muscle in his neck... it all drew my gaze helplessly.

Oh, what a lucky bottle of water.

A drop of water suddenly slipped from the rim of the bottle and slid down the line of his throat, tracing the curve of his collarbone before disappearing under the edge of his shirt. My breath caught before I could stop it.

Oh my goodness!

He finished the bottle, capped it again, and turned toward me. The faintest smile tugged at his mouth. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Oh no, he didn't just notice how flushed I was, just by watching him drink.

“I.. uhm... You startled me earlier, remember?” I quickly found a perfect lie to hide my shame.

He chuckled softly. “Right, that must be it.”

I rolled my eyes and lifted my mug again, more to distract myself than anything else. “So,” I said, “couldn’t sleep either?”

He shook his head. “Not really. My mind’s been busy. Too much to think about lately.”

“Join the club,” I said, taking a sip. The milk had cooled slightly, but it still felt warm enough to calm me.

He walked over and sat on one of the stools near me, close enough that I could feel the quiet heat radiating from him. “What’s keeping you up?” he asked, his tone sounded curious.

I shrugged. “Everything, I suppose."

He nodded slowly, elbows resting on the counter. “Adrian told me he talked to you.”

“He did,” I admitted. “He wants me back in the company.”

“And what do you want?”

I hesitated. “I don’t know yet. Part of me wants to feel useful again. The other part…” I trailed off, looking down into my cup. “The other part is afraid that I can no longer run the company like I used to, and I don't want to disappoint Adrian.”

"What? You were a badass Layla, a couple of years in marriage can't possibly wipe that off." He blurted and I slowly looked up at him, our eyes met.

For a moment, the world seemed to disappear... no sound, no thought, just him sitting there his expression calm but his gaze quietly traveled across my body.

He tilted his head slightly, his voice dropping just a little. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

The question was innocent enough. But the way he said it... it reached somewhere inside me I hadn’t realized was still tender.

I should have laughed it off. Said something teasing. Anything to break the weight of the silence. But instead, I just stared at him, every sinful thought slowly unraveling.

Before I could think, before I could stop myself, I leaned forward.

It was a small movement, one that I could have stopped, only that I didn't want to. My heart thundered so hard I was sure he could hear it. Our faces were close... too close, and for a brief, dizzy second, all I could see were his eyes, his lips, the faint rise and fall of his chest.

Then I pressed my lips on his.

It wasn’t planned, it was more of a soft press of lips.

Realization hit me a heartbeat later and I pulled back quickly. “I... I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I didn't mean to do that, I'm...

"It's alright," he suddenly cut me off with a warm smile.

And then, before I could say another word, he leaned in, closing the space between us again. His lips met mine, and this time, he deepened the kiss, not giving me any room to pull back, his arms wrapped around my waist as our lips moved rhythmically.