Todos los capítulos de My Three Hot Neighbors and Our Fake Date: Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

LUKETwo hours later, we’re both sitting in a booth at the back of a London pub.It’s packed tonight; there’s a football match on, so the place is full of fans watching the game. Layla and I have both had to squeeze onto one tiny bench, pressed close together. Layla has a mojito in front of her and is looking a lot happier. The colour is back in her cheeks, and she’s finally smiling again.“I still can’t believe you don’t remember me from high school,” she shouts over the clamour of the pub, kicking her heeled feet as she sips at her straw.“I was such a good student.”“I’m sure.” I swig at my own beer and try to ignore the feeling of her thigh pressed against mine. After she showered, Layla changed into little black shorts and a skimpy green top. She looks lovely, of course — but it’s an awful lot of bare skin to have pressed up against you. I can’t help myself glancing down the long stretch of white leg as she shuffles closer, making room for a guy to

LUKELayla completely shuts off.It’s like she freezes over. One second, she has hurt and frustration and fear all over her face; the next, she’s sitting calmly on the stone steps, examining her nail beds, her expression cold and detached. “Seriously,” she says again, her voice almost bored. “It’s not a big deal. You don’t post pictures of yourself half-naked online if you can’t handle a little catcalling.”“I don’t think that’s true,” I say slowly, trying to nudge the soda closer to her. “Sweetheart, you’ll feel better if—”“I’m fine,” she snaps, and I look down. She sighs and leans her head back against the brick wall, squinting up at the dark sky. “Sorry,” she says softly.“Sorry, sorry. I turn to a bitch when I’m embarrassed.”I shake my head. We’re silent for a moment. A car trundles down the road.A few streets away, I hear drunk voices singing a Mariah Carey song.Slowly, Layla reaches down and cracks the tab of the can, bringing it to her lips and taking a few deep swallows.“

LAYLA“You want a drink or anything?” I ask, kicking off my heels and heading for the kitchenette. “Water? Wine?”Josh shuts the door behind him and bends to unlace his shoes. His phone beeps in his pocket, and he hooks it out, checking the screen. “Hang on a sec,” he murmurs, typing back a quick message. I pour us both some water.When I turn back around, he’s migrated to the couch and is frowning at his phone like he wants to throw it out of the window.“Who is it?” I ask.“My brother,” he says shortly. “He wants my help organising the guest seating for the wedding.”“It’s just in a few weeks, right?”“Hm.” His phone bleeps again, and he sighs. “And that was Luke.” He starts tapping at the screen. “He wants to know if you’re doing okay.”Irritation flashes through me, but I bite it back. I’m not really angry at Luke.He’s just concerned. It’s my fault for letting him see how much Donny upset me.“I’m fine,” I say again. “Really. I ran into an old schoolmate. It… knocked me off-balan

ZACK“Will you please just tell me what’s wrong?” I ask the next morning, trailing after Luke as he marches across the road to our apartment building.It’s seven in the morning. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t be awake for another three hours, but Luke banged on my bedroom door thirty minutes ago and demanded that I come with him to buy Layla breakfast. It’s a mild day—the sky is bright and grey, and the air is nippy, but Luke doesn’t seem to notice the cold, walking like a zombie to the zebra crossing. He’s clutching a paper bag full of food.It’s not the first time all four of us have ordered breakfast together, but we normally just hit the local chain cafe. For some reason, though, today he insisted on going to some fancy little boulangerie he knows Layla likes.He’s bought croissants, pain au chocolat, fresh bread—even macarons. For breakfast. I was too tired to argue.We reach a crossing, and I study his face. His body is tight and thrumming with tension, but his shoulders are sl

LAYLAThe door clicks shut behind him, and I close my eyes. This was exactly what I was afraid of. “He blames himself.”“Why?” Zack says, picking up a croissant and taking a huge bite. “He wasn’t there.”“Because he still thinks I’m just some kid he should’ve taken care of,” I spit. If I’m honest, the overprotective teacher act is getting really old.“He’s right,” Josh says flatly, stroking my shoulder. “He should’ve.”I push him off and slide out of bed, grabbing a hair tie off my dresser. “Do you honestly think he wouldn’t have helped me if he’d known what was going on? It’s not his fault he didn’t know.” I yanked my hair up into a ponytail.“He was there,” Josh insists. “He should’ve been paying closer attention.He sat in a room with you for hours every week, he should’ve noticed something was up.”I shake my head, gritting my teeth. “It was ten years ago. He needs to get over it.” Anger glows inside me. “Why the Hell would he just walk out? It’s not my fault Donny was a prick. I