Layla - Page 57

ChapterEleven

Layla

Ifelt like hot shit. It wasn’t a good feeling at all, but I’d promised to go out with the girls, so I’d managed to get ready and meet up with them.

Mark had gone upstairs after lunch for a nap, and I’d figured leaving him to sleep was the kindest thing to do, seeing as how it was one of his rare days off, and he’d spent part of it at the gym and then had to pop into work for a couple of hours.

But, God, I wished I was at home curled up on my bed.

“You know, you look like you’ve been bitten by an Ebola monkey,” Cyn whispered, jerking away from me at the last minute. “Wait, are you infectious? I can’t get Ebola when I’ve got a kid to look after.”

“It’s not Ebola, I just feel crappy. Maybe I’m hormonal?”

“Your hormones make you look that pale and sick every month? If that’s the case, chickadee, you need to get your furnace checked by an inspector because that ain’t right.”

“My furnace is just fine, thank you very much.”

Cyn shrugged. “Maybe furnaces are like chimneys—you need to check they’ve not gotten blocked up by leaves, dead birds, giant spiders, and dead Santas before you ignite them and burn a fire. I don’t know because I don’t think we had a furnace, just a boiler, back in England, and it was pretty self-explanatory to make sure the burner was lit and to call the gas guy if it didn’t work.”

I leaned my cheek on my hand—fuck being able to hold it up by myself at this point—and looked at her carefully. “How the hell have you survived this long in life?”

“On a wing and a prayer, my friend.”

Just then, her back stiffened, just as Sayla’s did the same. With how we were sitting—my back to the door and them facing it—I couldn’t see what’d caused the reactions, but I could guess.

Well, well, well, it seemed those boys were keener than I’d realized. I mean, come on, it didn’t take a genius to figure out they liked my friends and were just going about it the wrong way, but to turn up tonight after crashing and burning on the endeavor the night before and likely knowing it? That spoke volumes.

“Oh, that little piece of donkey piss,” Sayla hissed, shooting an irritated glance at Roque as he leaned on the bar and stared straight at her. “All I wanted was one night of peace.”

I took a sip of my drink, grateful I’d chosen a piña colada that wouldn’t sting my throat. Then again, the alcohol it did have in it and the pineapple juice kind of did that, but it was ice cold and soothed it afterward.

“You can still have a peaceful night and let your hair down,” I pointed out, hating how raspy and nasal I sounded. “Just stop staring at him and letting him know he’s getting to you.”

She blew out a frustrated breath and looked back at me. “You know, Cyn’s right, you really don’t look good.”

“I did the best I could. I don’t know what this is, but I’m sure it’ll go away once I finish my drink.”

Alcohol cleaned cuts and sterilized knives—I’d learned that from a movie because they didn’t tend to approve of your doing that in a hospital—ergo, it’d clean my body of whatever beasties were ailing it and sterilize it afterward.

My crutch tonight was my desperation, and I wouldn’t be admitting that out loud.

Cyn finally dragged her eyes away from Kapono and sucked the rest of her drink through her straw. Given that it wasn’t a small glass and it’d been half full, her ability to not cry with brain freeze and to remain sane was impressive.

“Where’s Mark tonight?”

“Sleeping. It’s supposed to be his day off, and he worked late last night and went in for a couple of hours before lunch, so I left him to get his rest.”

“Aw,” she cooed, “spoken like a true Stepford Wife. Did you clean the house and make sure his laundry was neatly folded, too?”

I bit my lip, not wanting to admit I had indeed done all of that, but only because it’s what I usually did on my day off, and I’d wanted to get it out of the way for the week ahead.

Regardless of how much I thought I’d hidden the response from them, they still read me like a book and burst out laughing.

“Yo, move your butt and let us through. Once we’ve gone past, you can crowd together again and rudely block the path for all of the other patrons, I promise.”

Hearing the loud familiar voice, I slowly turned around and tried to smile when I saw Jacinda and Rockie heading toward us. “Hey, g— Oh, shit, what the hell happened to you?” Rockie asked, looking worried.

Tilting my head back, I wasn’t surprised when I saw I had his full attention on me.

Tags: Mary B. Moore Romance
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