LAYLAImet Liv and Bran at a bar close to Cross Media twenty minutes after my baffling confrontation with Aiden. After he left, the heavy stairwell door thunking behind him, I’d sat down at my desk, overwhelmed. He had been so agitated. It had vibrated in his body, wound his voice up so tight it was nearly unrecognizable. And he hadn’t been able to tell me why. His answers were bullshit, and I didn’t need my minor in Psych to tell me that. Every woman knew that when a man looked at her like that, he either hated her or wanted her and couldn’t have her.And Aiden had no reason to hate me.Since both Liv and Bran knew my feelings for Aiden, I decided to put this situation before them. I wouldn’t put much stock in my little brother’s advice normally, but he had intuited what I thought I’d so carefully guarded. And Liv was sure to tell me to do the most sensible thing possible, which was exactly what I needed to hear right now.At the bar, over our first round of beers, I took a deep brea
Joe made a face. “No, thank you. Maureen made us do a movie night where we watched them all in a row. How many times has he said that his best friends have four legs?”“At least a dozen,” I admitted.“What about ‘we don’t choose them, they choose us’?”“More than a dozen.”“I swear to God–” Joe set down his beer and held his hands up, palms out, “–the first time he came in, he said with absolutely no hint of irony, ‘sometimes I wonder who saved who,’ while showing us pictures of his first cat.”“Isn’t that a bumper sticker?” I thought for sure I’d seen it slapped in a few back windows with silhouettes of cats and dogs bookending the words.“Yes, it is, so the fact he injected it into casual conversation like it just came to him–” Joe shook his head, too disgusted to finish his sentence.“It was gross,” Gloria agreed. “But like, his arms.”“What about them?” I studied them in the video. They were thick with muscle, but they were almosttoobig, like maybe he’d have trouble finding shirts
AIDENAndrew Gold was a great analyst. He was instrumental to the Market analysis team. But maybe I could fire him anyway.I toyed with the idea as, two rows ahead, he leaned in close to Layla’s ear to say something that made her shout with laughter. As always, the smoky timbre of it went straight to my groin. I’d never thought a laugh could be so sexy, but it was the way she threw her head back, the motion of that beautiful russet brown hair, the way her blue eyes closed as her cherry red lips curved. I wanted to make her laugh, then kiss her while her mouth was still wide open. Slip my tongue in and…“You’re not eating your hot dog,” Maureen said, offended. “I put the damn relish on just like you like it.”Maureen had stood in line for our hot dogs while I went halfway around the stadium in search of the beer we liked. So now, even though the hot dogs were on the company dime, she was pissed I wasn’t eating it. Sometimes, having Maureen as one of my closest friends was akin to havin
LAYLAAiden’s mouth seared mine, and I only had a moment to thinkfinally!before my mind went blank. Only a moment to feel triumphant excitement before burning heat took its place. I’d deliberately avoided touching him up until the moment his control finally broke, but now I wrapped myself around him. I’d imagined doing so a hundred times, but my imagination hadn’t even brought me close to how good it felt to feel his hard chest against my breasts, the long, lean lines of his body bowing over me, the stubble on his chin scraping tantalizingly over the soft skin of my cheeks.I couldn’t decide where to put my hands–his broad chest, the muscular shoulders underneath his Red Sox t-shirt, or around the back of his neck where I could feel the ends of his hair. His hands were banded around my waist, his long fingers wrapped around my back, his thumbs on the waistband of my shorts.I don’t know how long we stood there, our bodies locked together, our mouths moving furiously over each other, c
AIDENOn Saturday mornings, I typically picked up doughnuts and coffee and drove over to my old neighborhood to spend some quality time with my little brother. He wasn’t related to me by blood. I’d hooked up with this mentor program a few years ago when I was profiled in a few local papers as a local boy made good.They’d paired me up with Carl O’Donoghue, a local boy determined to make bad. He made sure I knew that the doughnuts were the only reason he waited for me on the front steps of his run down rowhouse every Saturday morning. He called me big bro like he was spitting it between his teeth. Maureen gave me shit about bringing doughnuts instead of something with actual nutritional value, but Carl had a stomach curdling habit that involved chewing tobacco for breakfast, so I figured doughnuts were a step up.This morning, he was sitting on the bottom step, looking rough and hard and about as tough as a couple of matchsticks. An ulcerous splinter. He glared at me when I pulled up a
“Yeah, kid. Let’s get you some shoes.”Shoes, it turned out, were Carl’s gateway drug. Once he had shoes, he wanted jeans, and then a shirt. He was as tightly guarded with these desires as I was with mine, but I recognized them, and he got the fucking jeans and shirt. And then he was so jacked up on excitement and uncertainty that I managed to buy him a burger.He tore through it in a few bites, then leaned back. He was staring at me with an expression I recognized. Complete distrust. Why the hell was I doing this? What did I really want? Couldn’t be his mom, he could tell she wasn’t my type. Was I getting some sort of good press for this shit? He doubted it. It wasn’t like I was famous or anything. Was I a pervert? If so, I’d done a damn good job hiding it over the last few months.Basically, the same thought process I’d gone through when I was in his position and Jack was the one buying the burgers.“I want to talk about school,” I said, sensing that between the bags at his feet and
LAYLAIwanted to be irresistible on Monday morning, but I overthought it and changed my outfit so many times that Liv came out of her room to see what the hell I was doing banging my closet door open and shut so many times. Then, after the outfit was finally sorted, I almost forgot my lunch.“You look great,” she insisted, grabbing my lunch bag out of the refrigerator and stuffing it in my hands.I was wearing jeans, like everyone at the office did, but I was wearing heels and a tailored t-shirt, and I’d put my hair up because I thought it made me look older. More sophisticated. Something.“He kissed you,” Liv reminded me as she walked me to the door. Then, because she had nothing else to do since I’d woken her up before her alarm went off, she walked me down the hall to the elevator bank. “He told you he wants you. What are you worried about?”“That he won’t want meenoughto break his stupid rules.”Liv tapped her pointer finger on her chin and pointedly didn’t say anything. She didn’
But despite the glowing good looks, there was something about him that I didn’t like. It was impossible to put my finger on it. Maybe it was the way he dropped into his chair at the head of the table, lounging and indolent like he was one of the big cats he loved so much. I loved cats and their don’t-give-a-damn attitude, too, but the attitude hit different in a human being.He bestowed a shiny white, toothy smile on each of us in turn, but his glacier blue gaze snagged on me. “Hello,” he said, drawing out the word. “Are you new here?”Maybe if it was high school, I would have giggled like he so obviously expected. Now, though, I just smiled and said, “Yes. I’m Layla Davis.”“Layla Davis.” He repeated my name, pronouncing each syllable with great care, like he was sounding it out. “Nice to meet you, Layla Davis.”The tension that had existed in Aiden from the moment he stepped into the conference room increased. It was nearly invisible, but I’d become an expert on Aiden in the past we
WhitneyThe insistent doorbell ring startles me out of sleep.Yawning, I swing a leg over the other, dragging my way out of the bed.I probably got maybe two hours of sleep. It took me forever to close my eyes last night, after the heartbreak Maddox put me through. I was restless, fidgety, and devastated. All the words he told me about falling for me meant nothing.If he was really invested, he wouldn’t use the first obstacle to dip out.It was my dad, but what else could it have been? Would he have used just a different excuse later on?A part of me wants to believe he has strong feelings for me, butdoesn’t wantto have them. He acted like he succumbed to it, but maybe he’s still fighting it. This isn’t a fight I can do for him.I’m aware of my love. But his? He has to own it.Sighing, I run into the bathroom, wash my eyes quickly. They’re still a bit puffy from all the late-night crying, but the doorbell keeps reminding me there’s someone out there who’s probably not a mail carrier d
She fishes her phone from her pocket. “Do you want to schedule a post about hmmm, the pictures you were tagged on?”“No. I couldn’t care less at this point. I wasn’t doing anything illegal. I was on a date with my boyfriend.”She puts her phone back in her pocket, then looks at me with a flicker of surprise in her blue eyes. “Boyfriend? Thisisa soap opera. I usually don’t enjoy them, but it’s different when you know the main characters.”I roll my eyes. I bet I’d enjoy it too if I wasn’t one of the main characters. “Talk to you tomorrow, Astrid,” I say, and turn around. I beeline to his table, shoulders straight and heart pumping its way up my throat.“Whitney,” he says when I slide into the booth and sit across from him.“What happened with Dan?” I ask, the professional in me not wanting personal things to take priority. Even if my nerves are pulsing through invisible knots right now. I keep my hand under the table, tapping my fingers on my lap, fidgeting.A flash of anger sparks in
WhitneyI walk into the club,and the first thing I see is Astrid on the corner. Why didn’t she text me back?I dash over to her, my gaze scanning for signs of Dan and Maddox, but because there are a few more patrons than usual, and I can’t find either. Thank goodness for Astrid’s hair color and bold fashion choices making her easy to find in a crowd.“What’s up?” I ask her.She peels her gaze from her phone then tilts her head at me. “Did you see your dad as you walked in? He just left.”My dad? I thought he was with his team on the opposite side of the property. Busy. “No.”“Maybe he took the other exit… the emergency one that leads right out of the hotel.”My shoulders sag. Shit. Does my dad already know? I thought I’d buy some time, at least a couple of hours until he found out. I need to get to Maddox first, before Dad talks to him. Or maybe I’m too late already. Apprehension sweeps over me. I stand in front of her, finding it hard to sit, my body restless. “What’s going on?”“Wel
He’s a coward.Anger rises in me again, and I reach my drink and take it to my lips.I’m enjoying it when I see Charles walk up to me. He’s told me he’d be working with his team until late on a small gathering they’re throwing the next day for people of the trade. I wave at him, and he comes to my table with a determined expression, and long strides like he knows what he’s looking for. Who he’s looking for.My gut clenches. Something isn’t right.Was Dan an ass to him too, on the way back? Did Dan say anything bad about Whitney?Or did a bastard like me do something bad to Whitney?Like fuck her, again and again? I feel color draining from my face, and when Charles gets on the table with a disappointed look on his face, I already know it.“You jerk! I trusted you all those years. My daughter, really?” Charles says, flushed.My throat is dry and tight.Somehow he found out, and denying it will only make him angrier.Guilt crawls its way into my chest, and it’s hard to breathe. How can I
Maddox“And this is where guests and locals come for drinks and music,” I say, gesturing as we emerge into the club. I see quite a few more patrons than the past few weeks, which shows me that Whitney’s efforts have worked. We’ve had more visitors and increased sales. Always a plus.I’d be a lot happier if it weren’t for the company.My body is still stiff, as I had to go through an entire dinner with Dan Walters who happens to be almost as annoying as he is misogynistic. I guess it’s been a while since I last sat through a meal with the guy. We’re not friends, and I’ve met him in social events and basically small talked.I want to give him the benefit of the doubt and say maybe the reason why he’s been talking about women nonstop and not under the best light is because of his divorce. Maybe he’s broken, and feels more powerful if he’s bragging about all the pussy he’s getting.But the cynical part of me knows better.This guy is a certified douchebag, and I hope Astrid can get a good
WhitneyI strideinto the hotel lobby.Right now, Dan Walters the politician should be having dinner with Maddox. Maybe dinner is already over and they’re touring the hotel. Astrid is there in the club, ready to snap a couple of pictures as planned, and then send it to a gossip columnist friend of ours.If this was another client, I wouldn’t be here. My presence isn’t required since Astrid is here, as per her text.But I am shamelessly using every excuse in the book to be around Maddox, to see him more often, to spend more time with him.Ever since our ax throwing date, I can’t stop thinking about how far we’ve come. From him avoiding me for years to hinting about having children together one day. Who would have thought?A ball of joy rolls inside me, like a bowling ball running down the lane. Striking out.I add a little bit more pep to my step, and my goal is to pass by the restaurant and see them without introducing myself. But before I make it there, I almost bump into them, with b
Maddox“Your turn,”she says, handing me the ax.I hold the weight of the tool, and clasp it. This is the first time visiting an ax throwing joint, and if at first the idea seemed silly at best, now I’m actually enjoying myself. Then again, why wouldn’t I? For the past few days, we’ve been together non-stop, or as much as our schedules allow.Still, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough.I shoot the damn thing at the target, hitting it right at buzz’s eye. She squeals, cheering me on, then takes a sip of her beer.She’s invited me here because she needed to come for an appearance and check out the place, take some pictures, then post about it later. So even though this should technically be work, it’s still relaxing. At least, to me.Besides, I get to see how she fills those skintight jeans and plaid shirt she’s wearing. I’ve seen how a couple of men looked at her, and wanted to punch each one.Though I know she’s mine.Mine forever.A warm glow flows through me, spreading into my veins. Wh
“Maybe,” Maddox says, then clears his throat. “I hate to cut this short, but I have some phone calls I need to make soon.”“Oh, sure, no problem,” Dad says, then stands. We’ll leave you to it.”I hold the arms of the chair and am about to surge to my feet, when his gaze connects with mine and pins me to the spot.“I still have a question for you, Whitney,” Maddox says. “About the posting you’ll do later.”“Sure,” I say, and plop down on the chair again.Dad leaves and closes the door behind him.Quietly, Maddox stands and walks up to the door, and locks it. “You’re upset,” he says, picking a chair next to mine and sitting.I cross my legs, then uncross them and cross them again. “What? No,” I say in a hissy voice that betrays my words. I’m upset, and also embarrassed for being upset about him not acknowledging he’s seeing someone to my father. And maybe a tad jealous. What if Dad really tries to find him a date? My heart lurches. The idea of him with another woman gives me instant aci
“There you are,” my dad says, walking up to us, bursting that bubble.I withdraw as if I’ve been burned.“Hey, Dad,” I say in an extra chipper voice. “What’s up?”“Can we all meet at the conference room for a quick meeting? I have some news to share.”I have some too, I say inwardly.I slept with your best friend and can’t wait to do it again.A twinge of guilt twists at my heart, like the sharp end of a new blade. My dad doesn’t deserve to be hurt in all this, but would his hurt last? Besides the immediate surprise, would he really put up a long lasting fight against our relationship? I doubt it.Dad isn’t the typical father.He tends to be more open minded than most. Growing up, I always kept a channel of communication open with him. I confided in him about tiffs with friends, dates gone wrong, and when things started to happen for me as a digital influencer, he was my biggest cheerleader. He encouraged me and my dreams.The thoughts keep me busy as the three of us walk through the h