5: Layla

“Can I stay for breakfast? I’m hoping to see Grayson. Will you help me with him?” Sloane asked, sitting on my bed as I begun to get dressed.

I pulled a t-shirt over my head and combed my wet hair. Thank goodness I got rid of that fancy hairdo when I washed it. I was back to the old me—with highlights- plain Jane who didn’t stand a damn chance against a beautiful woman like Sloane.

“Hon, you’ll get more information from Cosmo or Google than me. I don’t have a clue how to get a guy.” I couldn’t help the bitterness that snuck into my voice.

Grayson was drunk last night. I was now pretty sure that was the only reason he wanted me. That, and the fact we were both half naked to start with. Shame washed over me as I recalled how easily I fell for his charms.

How could I have thought for even a moment that something could come from having sex with my stepbrother? Of course it couldn’t. I had to face reality: I was the ugly stepsister.

“Oh my God, here I’ve been rambling on about my situation and I haven’t even asked you how you went with your guy. What happened with Seth? Did you get your cherry popped?”

How to answer that without telling lies?

I lowered my eyes. “Seth didn’t quite work out. Turns out I was only a bet to him to prove his manliness.”

“Oh God, Hon, I’m so sorry. I’ve never really liked Seth . . . or his military older brother. That one just gives me the creeps with the way he fucks me with his eyes. Hawke Matthews is so intense, he scares the shit out of me.” She shuddered to prove her point. “What you need, is a man like Grayson. Someone who is considerate and kind . . . and fucking hot. Hmmm, I wonder where we can find you someone like him.”

I nearly choked on the coffee Taylor had brought me.

I didn’t want a man like Grayson. I wanted Grayson.

But what I wanted and what I’d get were two vastly different things.

Feeling sick to the stomach, I told Sloane, “You go down to breakfast. Mum and Taylor will be happy to have you. And maybe you’ll see Grayson too.” I rubbed my temples. “I still have a hangover. I’m going to crawl back into bed and sleep some more, okay?”

“Okay. If you don’t mind. Hope you feel better soon. Wish me luck!” She called out in a singsong tone as she walked out of my room.

“Luck,” I mumbled, feigning enthusiasm.

Luckily I’d changed the sheets and made a fresh bed before everyone barged in on me this morning. I lifted the bedding and slid between the cool sheets. My body was on fire as shame burned through me. How could I ever face Grayson again? How could I look at him without giving away how much I wanted him?

I was so screwed.

Just as I was about to drift off to sleep, I heard voices and footsteps walking toward my door. A soft knock and Grayson’s concerned voice made my stomach lurch. Then I heard my mother’s voice and Sloane’s. Why couldn’t they just leave me the fuck alone so I could drown in sorrows and have my own little pity party?

“Honey, are you okay?” Mum sounded truly concerned as she lay her hand on my forehead. She always did that when I wasn’t feeling well. “You feel feverish. Lucky for you Grayson is home. Let our doctor take a good look at you, sweetie.”

I groaned and buried my face in the pillow. Really?

Feet shuffled closer to the bed and then a cool hand lay on my shoulder.

Refusing to look up at Grayson, I mumbled into the pillow. “Go away. I’m okay. I just have a damn hangover and I need some sleep.”

“Ouch, she bites this morning,” Taylor said. Trust her to have some smartass comment.

“Lala. Look at me,” Grayson commanded.

Shit. I was powerless to disobey him when he called me Lala.

I turned my head to the side, mostly because I needed to breathe, but refused to open my eyes. I couldn’t look at him after everything Sloane had said. The aroma that was uniquely Grayson snaked its way to my consciousness. God, he smelled good. Just as good as he tasted.

Jesus. Why am I thinking these wicked thoughts?

I squeezed my eyes shut and wished them all away. How had I gone from sheer ecstasy to having this dull ache in my heart in  just over sixty minutes?

“I told you she wasn’t feeling well,” Sloane said. “Let’s leave her be and get back to breakfast. I’ll draw the curtains so she can get some sleep.”

“That’s a good idea,” Grayson said. “The darkness will help for her headache.”

My heart felt as heavy as a rock. He wanted to leave so he could be with Sloane. I got the message loud and clear. She was beautiful—he’d said so himself. Of course he wanted to be with her now she was here.

I hate feeling like this.

“Tell you what, you guys go down and finish breakfast. I’ll stay here with Layla and give her something to make her better.”

“But, Grayson—” Sloane sounded pretty unhappy with his reply.

He laid a hand on my forehead for a few seconds, then pushed my damp hair behind my ear.

“Go now, ladies. My patient will be better in no time, I promise.” The tone of his voice was even and measured, not inviting arguments.

As soon as everyone left and the door closed, he leaned over and kissed my brow. I couldn’t believe how that one simple act made me feel so much better so quickly, but I kept my eyes shut. I was never good at hiding my feelings and if Grayson looked into my eyes he’d see just how messed up I was.

Without a word, he left the room and instantly I missed his closeness.

God, how was I going to ever get over him and act normal?

The door squeaked again and I felt his presence return to the room, restoring some calm inside me.

Click.

He locked the door?

“I brought two painkillers and a glass of water. Sit up, Layla.” He was using his Doctor voice now. It was strong and commanding, laced with tenderness and a dollop of caring.

My heart did a little flip-flop. I did as I was told and took the tablets and water without directly looking at him and yet from my peripheral vision I could see how damn hot he looked in his workout gear. His biceps bulged as he crossed his arms over his fine chest.

I swallowed the tablets and drank all the water. I was so damn thirsty.

“Good girl.”

He took the empty glass from my hand, his fingers grazing mine. Every touch was like magic and torture rolled into one.

“What’s going on, Lala? Are you mad at me about what happened?”

Say what?

I found my voice, but still avoided his gaze despite feeling his eyes burn into me. My cheeks grew hotter.

“N . . . no, of course not.”

He let out a long sigh, as if he’d been holding his breath. He sat at the edge of the bed and took my hand in his. I squeezed my eyes shut and savored his touch. With his thumb he rubbed small circles on my wrist, sending an electric current through my body.

“I’m so sorry if what happened last night was not what you wanted. I can never give it back to you and that’s just killing me.”

The caring in his voice caught me off guard. I never expected this. My eyes flew open to witness a pained expression on his handsome face. I’d never seen Grayson so distraught.

Oh God, was he regretting having sex with me now he was sober?

Of course he was.

Because like most males he’d be worried I’d want something more that he wasn’t willing to give, like a relationship when all he’d wanted was to blow his load and forget about it.

This was awkward as hell.

Nausea swept over me. I bowed my head and closed my eyes again. Pain throbbed at my temples and tears prickled behind my eyelids. I wish he wouldn’t be so damn nice, but then again this was Grayson. On some level he did care about me, I’d always known that, just not in the way I wanted him to. It would’ve been so much easier if he was just a jerk about it and didn’t apologize. His kindness was making my heart hurt even more.