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  “Layla...I know you’re in there. Just open up.”

  I almost missed the quiet muffled crying, almost. I don’t wait for a reply and open the door. She’s curled up into herself in the fetal position, her body shaking on quiet sobs. I can’t help but to feel that it should be me consoling her.

  “What happened?”

  She sits up rapidly. “All right, you want to know what happened. How about I let all of my secrets out. You’ll find out soon anyway. The crash that caused the losses of Natalie’s parents, well, my dad was the only one intoxicated. He didn’t have to drive. He was mad at Nat’s mother, because she wouldn’t leave her husband, Natalie’s father. He loved her. They were having an affair and I’ve known for a long time what really happened. I’ve known that Natalie didn’t. I’ve lied to her for years, and today she found out. Okay? You can go now.” She turns away from me.

  “Layla, I’m not going anywhere. Also, you’re her best friend. I’m sure it wasn’t your intention to lie to her. Just tell me what happened.” I say, sitting on the bed, patting the side next to me, indicating that I want her to join me.

  “In short, we went to my parents’ house to invite them to the wedding. I knew that my dad was going to tell her. I wanted him to. I’ve been exhausted carrying the secret around with me and guilty. Needless to say, now she knows and she doesn’t want to speak to me. And you’re right, no it wasn’t intentional. When I first found out, I was going to tell her, I really was. But she wasn’t ready to know, it would have killed her. Last summer I was going to tell her, after she overdosed. I knew that she had a right to know, but she wasn’t emotionally stable enough. Now she is. I probably could have fought her about going there today, but it was time. I knew she would be upset with me. I just didn’t think it would hurt so much,” Layla says on a sob.

  I’m speechless. I understand where each of them are coming from. I can imagine what they are both feeling. Lies woven in many threads have to unravel sometime. It’s usually better for every party if they come apart sooner. That would hurt less. Instead, this lie was hidden for years, due to Natalie being unstable with her emotions. If she was my best friend-if it were Ryan-I would have done the same thing.

  Fuck, I have done the same thing, with Natalie’s overdose, her pregnancy. With my feelings. I did it all to protect him and her. And if asked if I would ever do it again, I would without a second of hesitation.

  It’s what you do, what’s in you. For your family, your friends that might as well be family, you protect them at any cost, even if the price is yourself. Even if it costs you that relationship.

  I do the only thing that I know how to do and that is comfort. We’re sitting side by side, so I pull her side into mine and wrap my arm around her back. I slowly start grazing my hand over her shoulder. Rubbing small circles around her shoulder, just to let her know I’m here.

  She curls further into me, snuggling her face into my chest. It’s like this, that we half sit half lay on the bed for a while, well into the night without speaking. When I believe she’s asleep, I start to shift my body out from under her, when she lifts her head up. She first looks to me, in my eyes. Then down to my lips, and its then that I realize where she’s going with this.

  “I can’t comfort you like that, Layla. It wouldn’t be right.”

  The rejected look that appears on her face pains me. I notice it before she layers on the façade of not caring. She thinks I didn’t see how much my refusing to comfort her that way affects her emotionally. She cares, and not just as a one night stand, or a weekly fuck buddy. But she really, actually cares.

  “As we advance in life it becomes more and more difficult, but in fighting the difficulties the inmost strength of the heart is developed.”

  -Vincent Van Gogh

  Chapter 22

  Layla

  Liam’s rejection hits me like a full force smack in the face. Like someone dumped a bucket of ice cold water over my spine, it’s reality. He told me the night before, at Ryan and Nat’s, that it wasn’t like that.

  It was one night of fun. Like I had expected and even though I set myself up to not expect anything from him.-for it to be more-somehow subconsciously, I did and knowing that there won’t be more, hurts.

  I decide that I am exhausted from dealing with pain. I deserve the wrath of Nat. I have no one to blame but myself. Liam though, I have no words. I shouldn’t be hurting this much because of no meaning sex. Maybe what I need is to meet someone new. Even if it doesn’t work out and lasts a week.

  It could be someone to get my mind off what isn’t going to ever happen with Liam. Liam, who has long since gone to bed. Not wanting to wake him, I turn on the radio to a low volume. Needing music to help me fall asleep after a day like today. Music to clear the thoughts out of my head.

  The first song that pops on is Stay With Me, by Sam Smith. Definitely a song that isn’t for right now. Oh, it’s beautiful in its own right and the man has a voice of an Angel. But the song is about a one night stand, and even knowing that they will never love one another, he still wants her to stay.

  I briskly change the station, to an even better one. It feels like someone is playing a cruel joke on me. Fix You by Coldplay pours out of the speakers. I finally decide to just hook my cellphone up to my docking station and choose my own song. One that won’t cause the feelings I am already dealing with, to pressurize on my chest even more.

  I scroll through my playlist and throw on some Thirty Seconds to Mars, City of Angels. I would normally choose something by Steele’s Army, but at the moment I’m hurt and upset with Liam, so it would feel traitorous to myself to play anything that he’s had a part in.

  I fell asleep sometime late last night, after hitting repeat on my playlist. Liam left sometime this morning to do God knows what. I didn’t wake up until around noon. By then it was already lunch time, so I fixed myself something quick to eat and sat on the couch.

  The couch is where I have been all day. I foolishly thought I could watch an episode of my absolute favorite show. Just one, maybe two at the most. It helped in distracting me from noticing that my phone had yet to ring. Not even a text from Natalie.

  Well, here I am well into the evening and have watched the entire first season of True Blood, again. Damn that Alexander Skarsgard, he’s just as bad as Johnny Depp. Too bad I couldn’t remain lost for the rest of the night. Then it wouldn’t be nearly as bad knowing that Natalie isn’t ready to talk yet.

  I still have another day off before I have to go back to the grind of work, even though Liam doesn’t want me working there. I’ll compromise with him, and stay only until I find another job. Then I’ll rat on Carl’s ass to his father, who owns the establishment, about how harassing his son is.

  Liam still hasn’t made it home yet. Not that I really care anyway. I decide to start cooking dinner. Maybe he’ll be home by the time it’s done. After eating everything on my own plate, Liam’s still not home, nor have any other the other guys stopped by. So, I decide to go out myself.

  It’s not like Liam has to answer to me. I’m nothing to him. Something that I have to keep reminding myself of hourly. Every time I begin to think of where he might be or what he might be doing.

  I throw his plate in the microwave to stay warm and head to my room to sexify myself. How did I turn from such a self-confident young woman, to an insecure one waiting around on a man?

  I pick out my clothes for the night first. Heading straight to my closet, I grab my favorite dress to wear out clubbing. It’s a light pastel blue silk. The halter that holds the dress up is affixed with white crystals and leads to a deep plunging neckline. The dress hangs off of my body, flowing freely.

  It’s my favorite, because it doesn’t require a bra and its material of silk rubs against my body like a second skin when I’m on the dance floor.

  After laying the dress down on my bed, I pick a pair of white ballet flats. A night out in heels isn’t as comfortable as my sturdy flats. I take a somewhat long shower,
shaving all the intimate areas and plucking the less intimate ones. After I dry off, I apply my makeup. I always choose to go the natural route.

  Less is always more. I never use a primer or foundation, opting for a light coat of black eyeliner and a few coats of my favorite mascara. With the swipe of a clear gloss, my look is finished.

  I blow dry my hair to prevent dampening my dress. When it’s dry, I spread some shine gloss through my hair, evenly, then pin my hair back. I grab a pair of white G-string panties and pull them on, then step into my dress.

  I slip my shoes on, then search for a small clutch to hold my cash, cellphone, and identification. Not that I will really need that for where I’m going tonight. When my clutch is packed, I take one last look in the mirror and head out. Unexpectedly, I meet Liam at the door as I’m leaving.

  “Hey,” He says.

  “Hey yourself,” I say blankly.

  “You, uh...you look very nice. Where you headed?”

  “Thanks. I’m just headed out. Have a nice night.” I say, while walking around him to leave.

  Wait,” He grabs my elbow.

  I stop, looking into his eyes. “What?”

  “You aren’t going to Carls’ Pub are you?”

  “I am,” I reply flatly.

  He’s not my father and I sure as hell don’t need anyone telling me what to do, least of all him. The one who doesn’t want to have a claim on me, but runs hot one second and cold the next.

  “Jesus, Layla. What is wrong with you? You shouldn’t be stepping foot in that place, not to work or to go out.”

  “Listen, you’re not my father and it’s likely that even my father wouldn’t give a shit. I’ve decided that I will quit, but not until I have another job already lined up. You can’t ask me for more than that. Also, the reason I chose to go to that bar is because even with Carl working there, I know that it’s probably the safest place I can go for a night out, alone.” I argue back.

  “Fine. You better start your job search early. If you haven’t quit by the time of the wedding, I refuse to allow you to go back there. It doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with you going there, though. Do you have your phone on you at least?”

  I open my clutch, showing him proof that I indeed do have my phone with me, if I were to need any help at all.

  “Good. Call me and I’ll come pick you up when you’re done. That way at least I know you’ve made it home safe and sound.” Liam says, while gripping the back of his neck.

  I bite on my lip nervously, “Um... that’s okay, but thanks. I don’t think I will end up needing a ride.”

  He has to know that I’m not some fawning over him groupie, worshipping the very ground that he walks on. I’m not a wait around forever person. I deserve to be the first choice and not settling to wait on someone to realize we could have something good. Something great.

  “Lust is easy. Love is hard. Like is most important.”

  ~Carl Reiner

  Chapter 23

  Liam

  Layla doesn’t think that I have noticed her going out every single night this week. And like clockwork, she comes rolling in around two in the morning with another stranger. One that never lingers past the sunrise.

  What I’m trying to figure out, is she doing this to try to make me jealous? If she is, it’s working and I’m not a fan of the emotion. Not one bit.

  At first, I was accepting of her going out. I figured it had to do with Natalie not calling yet. She was drinking away her issues. Something that I can very well relate to. Something that I have partaken more times than I can count, so I hold absolutely no judgment on that.

  When she had told me she didn’t need a ride home that first night, I was taken aback. In shock, that she would be scourging the bars for a bed buddy. But that night, when she came home alone, relief had flooded me. I had no idea how I would react had she brought someone home. Well, now I know.

  The second night, she brought someone home. I was too furious to open my bedroom door, for fear of truly harming this stranger. This stranger, who had no idea what he was walking into or that I was even here. He didn’t stay long, much to my surprise.

  The third, fourth, fifth, and sixth night, though, that’s a completely different story. I wanted to kill this douchebag, right after I fucked Layla hard in front of him. I wanted to claim her before his eyes, showcasing that he had no right to her. That she was mine. Unfortunately, I have yet to do that or even speak to Layla after this morning’s events. She’s probably still pissed at me. I don’t agree with it, but it is what it is.

  After three days of Layla bringing home this dick, I decided I would take some Tylenol PM. So I could fall asleep well before they made it home. I was nothing short of handcuffing myself to my bed, to reassure myself I maintained a safe distance from causing harm. I thought the nighttime medicine would be of some kind of help, you know, I could sleep right through the shit.

  Luckily, it wasn’t Layla’s moans that were the problem. She was quiet, albeit a surprise to me, I couldn’t hear one peep from her through my walls. This dick, though, I’m sure the entire floor of apartments could hear his guttural sick like moans.

  So here I am, three days of this ridiculousness. Besides already being irritated at myself for allowing Layla to dictate how I feel, and being pissed at Layla for sleeping with someone who was not me. Even though in other words, I had flat out told her that I didn’t want her. I had to put up with this inexperienced mewling douchebag.

  I woke up around three in the morning to a crash against my door. Startled, I jumped up and whipped my door open. In fell two bodies, one practically naked, Layla. She was in her bra and revealing panties. I heard my self growling.

  The male, who she fell on top of, had his pants unbuckled and his shirt unbuttoned. I remember telling myself enough of this shit. I ripped her off of him and threw him out of my room. I locked my door and pinned her with my gaze. A gaze of fury and lust. I didn’t hesitate. I ripped my shirt and flannels off and attacked her. No holding back, taking what was mine.

  “Mine.” I remember telling her in between heated kisses.

  She moaned in response. I licked and kissed my way down her neck, reaching her breasts. I circled one nipple with my tongue and pinched the other in between my fingers.

  “Can he make you feel like this?” I ask huskily.

  “Nooo.”

  I toss her on my bed on her back. I watch her for a moment, her chest heaving up and down rapidly. I kneel between her legs and feast.

  Her pussy is dripping wet and smells of fragrant lavender. I slide her juices around with my fingers, slowly teasing her entrance and her clit. She thrusts her hips up, trying to guide my fingers to where she wants them.

  I slowly lean my head in and stroke her clit with my tongue, while inserting two fingers in to her tight wet pussy. She pulls on my hair, shoving my face further in between her beautifully long legs.

  I abide her wishes. As I suck and nibble her clit, I continue finger fucking her tight pussy, until she explodes. Gushing cum runs down her lips and her body convulses.

  I allow her to ride out her orgasm, blissfully. When I observe that she’s come down from her ecstasy, I open my mouth and speak the words that she is currently and rightly so, pissed at.

  “Get out.”

  “Remember, we all stumble, every one of us. That's why it's a comfort to go hand in hand.” ~Emily Kimbrough

  Chapter 24

  Layla

  I could seriously hurt Liam right now. Last night was my last straw. I am beyond tired of the hot and cold now. Although, I did have a cause for him opening his door in the first place. Even though he has no clue that the guy and I weren’t actually doing anything.

  The first night I went out to attempt at moving past whatever Liam and I had between us, I met the guy from last night, Matthew.

  We only met because Carl was coming on very strong and he happened to be sitting near me at the bar. He scooted closer to me and asked if I needed help in
getting rid of the unwanted attention. At first, I wasn’t sure if it would be such a good idea. In the end, it worked and Carl stayed far away from me.

  We ended up talking. He had just gotten out of a relationship and was there drowning his sorrows. He loved her, wanted to marry her, and after years of being together, she claimed that she wasn’t in love anymore.

  Unlike myself, I opened up as well. I shared how I was feeling about Liam, without actually disclosing who he was. And how it was complicated, but I was willing to take a chance on him. That night we concocted a scheme to make Liam jealous. I know it was a bit childish on my part. But he’s the first person that I’ve been with that I was willing to break my patterns and change. Only for him to throw a bucket of ice on my ever piling mountain of hope.

  We planned to meet the next night and he would come home with me. We would act as if we were having intercourse. After the first night, I was sure that Liam was unaffected. Then we tried a second night and a third after that.

  Not one sound was heard from his room and it was aggravating. Every day that went by, reassured me that my feelings were one sided. Until last night.

  When he opened his bedroom door, I knew it. He was just masking his true feelings, pretending that he didn’t hear us coming in every single morning.

  He looked at me first, in complete shock and fury. Then glanced to Matthew and was enraged. I thought Liam was going to seriously harm him. Frankly, I was surprised that he didn’t do more than throw him out.

  As soon as his bedroom door was locked, he stripped and gave me a look that said I had no choice. That I had no say of what was going to happen, that I was his.

  Last night, he claimed me with his mouth. Soon after, he told me to get out. I was beyond crushed. I ran out of his room and straight into mine. It took hours to fall asleep and even when I was sucked into dream land, I dreamt of him.