which for a while was a nice change. But Aunt Kate didn’t like the zombified version of me so I mostly just take a migraine medicine that doubles as a seizure suppressant. I’m usually okay unless I get anxious or a loud noise catches me off guard. I get regular EKGs to make sure my brain activity is normal and all that.”
“Thank you,” Landen says softly and I’m confused.
“Thank you for what?” For getting EKGs?
“For telling me. For trusting me.” His hand slides over my comforter and finds mine and I feel safe. For the first time in forever.
He has this look in his eye. For a second, I’m positive he’s going to kiss me. Then he leans in and places his lips to my forehead. Time stands still the moment his mouth touches me. I don’t even think my heart beats. That single point of contact changes something between us. When he pulls back I’m struggling to remind myself to breathe.
“It’s what’s friends do, right?” I force out a laugh to break the tension. But his darkening gaze presses deeply into mine.
“No idea. We’re a hell of a lot more than friends, Layla Flaherty.”
H er aunt is kind of hovery and overprotective, I’m learning. At first I thought it was because of her medical condition, but after a month of dating, I’m pretty sure it’s because she’s realized I’m a walking, talking erection.
They’re coming over for Thanksgiving, Layla and her helicopter aunt, and I’m stressed out for a couple of reasons. Layla knows my dad and I don’t get along. But she has no idea what an understatement that is. Here I am, always giving her shit about friends telling each other stuff, and I have one hell of a secret myself.
When the doorbell rings, my heart pounds, forcing blood to rush so hard through me I can hear it in my ears. Christ I need to relax.
I clench and unclench my hands a few times as I walk to the front door. Everything will be fine. Just keep your mouth shut and don’t provoke him.
Right. The Colonel’s been drinking and watching football all day. I could breathe wrong and provoke him. No idea why my mom thought this was a good idea.
When I open the door to see Layla on the other side of it she takes my breath away. You’d think I’d get used to that face. That smile. Those eyes that light up every time she sees me. You’d be wrong.
“Hey, babe.” I give her a hug and her aunt raises an eyebrow so I back off.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” Layla says softly. “We brought pie.”
I grin and take the two pies they’re carrying as they follow me into the kitchen. My mom makes a big fuss over Layla’s dark red sweater dress type deal, and they talk about food while I set the table.
When my mom calls for my dad to join us, I drop the carving knife I’ve been holding. We’re just sitting down when he walks in. The air becomes thicker, and without thinking, I reach over and put my hand on Layla’s bare knee. Somehow this calms me. I glance over to see if it’s okay and she’s biting her lip. Damn, I want to bite that lip. Okay, maybe it doesn’t calm me exactly but it does distract me from the many ways in which the Colonel could ruin this dinner.
She puts her hand on top of mine and I nearly choke on my drink. I clear my throat before I speak. “Colonel, um, Dad, this is Layla Flaherty and her aunt, Katherine.”
“Kate,” Layla’s aunt corrects me. She reaches to shake his hand but he ignores her, taking a drink of the dark liquid in his glass and eying my girlfriend in a way that makes me want to tackle his old ass to the fucking ground. Kate’s eyes narrow and I see from the corner of my eye that she’s sizing him up. Probably figuring out all my secrets and plotting the easiest exit route for her and Layla.
“This the reason you missed those two field goals last week?” His voice is gruffer than usual, his words slow and falling over each other. Great. He’s drunk. Not that he’s full of sunshine when he’s sober, but drinking brings out
“Thank you,” Landen says softly and I’m confused.
“Thank you for what?” For getting EKGs?
“For telling me. For trusting me.” His hand slides over my comforter and finds mine and I feel safe. For the first time in forever.
He has this look in his eye. For a second, I’m positive he’s going to kiss me. Then he leans in and places his lips to my forehead. Time stands still the moment his mouth touches me. I don’t even think my heart beats. That single point of contact changes something between us. When he pulls back I’m struggling to remind myself to breathe.
“It’s what’s friends do, right?” I force out a laugh to break the tension. But his darkening gaze presses deeply into mine.
“No idea. We’re a hell of a lot more than friends, Layla Flaherty.”
H er aunt is kind of hovery and overprotective, I’m learning. At first I thought it was because of her medical condition, but after a month of dating, I’m pretty sure it’s because she’s realized I’m a walking, talking erection.
They’re coming over for Thanksgiving, Layla and her helicopter aunt, and I’m stressed out for a couple of reasons. Layla knows my dad and I don’t get along. But she has no idea what an understatement that is. Here I am, always giving her shit about friends telling each other stuff, and I have one hell of a secret myself.
When the doorbell rings, my heart pounds, forcing blood to rush so hard through me I can hear it in my ears. Christ I need to relax.
I clench and unclench my hands a few times as I walk to the front door. Everything will be fine. Just keep your mouth shut and don’t provoke him.
Right. The Colonel’s been drinking and watching football all day. I could breathe wrong and provoke him. No idea why my mom thought this was a good idea.
When I open the door to see Layla on the other side of it she takes my breath away. You’d think I’d get used to that face. That smile. Those eyes that light up every time she sees me. You’d be wrong.
“Hey, babe.” I give her a hug and her aunt raises an eyebrow so I back off.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” Layla says softly. “We brought pie.”
I grin and take the two pies they’re carrying as they follow me into the kitchen. My mom makes a big fuss over Layla’s dark red sweater dress type deal, and they talk about food while I set the table.
When my mom calls for my dad to join us, I drop the carving knife I’ve been holding. We’re just sitting down when he walks in. The air becomes thicker, and without thinking, I reach over and put my hand on Layla’s bare knee. Somehow this calms me. I glance over to see if it’s okay and she’s biting her lip. Damn, I want to bite that lip. Okay, maybe it doesn’t calm me exactly but it does distract me from the many ways in which the Colonel could ruin this dinner.
She puts her hand on top of mine and I nearly choke on my drink. I clear my throat before I speak. “Colonel, um, Dad, this is Layla Flaherty and her aunt, Katherine.”
“Kate,” Layla’s aunt corrects me. She reaches to shake his hand but he ignores her, taking a drink of the dark liquid in his glass and eying my girlfriend in a way that makes me want to tackle his old ass to the fucking ground. Kate’s eyes narrow and I see from the corner of my eye that she’s sizing him up. Probably figuring out all my secrets and plotting the easiest exit route for her and Layla.
“This the reason you missed those two field goals last week?” His voice is gruffer than usual, his words slow and falling over each other. Great. He’s drunk. Not that he’s full of sunshine when he’s sober, but drinking brings out
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