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“What’s the plan then?” Gedeon asks. “You gonna stop her from having contact with any man besides you?”
It’s not the worst idea.
“At least she wouldn’t be texting my soldiers while they’re supposed to be on duty.”
“Making sure she has what she needsismy duty,” he fires back. “Peryourorders. I didn’t realize being simultaneously miserable was also part of the job requirements.”
I glower at him. “Are you saying you like being on Laila duty?”
“I don’t know. Are you saying that?” He shrugs. “Marrying her was all for business, you said—but you don’t seem to hate it. Not all the time, anyway.”
I ignore his irritatingly valid point and snatch my keys off my desk. “Send me this Tylermudak’sinformation.”
“If you’ve got such a problem with Laila’s male friendships, may I suggest an alternative?”
“No.”
“Have Dominik invite Kira over,” he says anyway. “She’s pregnant, too. They can bond and, like, paint each other’s nails or have lingerie pillow fights or whatever it is that women do for fun. Point is, it might be good for Laila. The reason she texts me is because she doesn’t have anyone else to talk to.”
He shrinks back at the look on my face.
I know he’s right, but I wish he wasn’t.
I just wish Laila would talk to me instead.
32
LAILA
I stop in front of the door to the gym, waiting for Dominik to pull it open for me the way he always does, but it stays closed.
I glance back. Dom isn’t even behind me like I assumed. He’s stalled out at the hood of the car, digging his toe into a break in the asphalt and refusing to meet my eyes.
“Aren’t you coming with?” I ask.
It’s not even that I want him to come in with me; it’s just that Dom always does. He’s my stalkery little shadow, and I barely even notice him anymore.
Arsen told me once I’d get used to the guards. I guess he was right.
“Not today.” Dom waves me on. “You go ahead.”
I mock-gasp and peer up at the sky, sending Dom into a ready stance, his hand on the hip where I know he keeps a gun. “What is it?”
“Oh, I just assumed the world must be ending. That’s the only way I ever thought I’d get rid of you.”
“Hilarious.” His hand relaxes and he narrows his eyes. “I’ll see you later, Laila.”
“In an hour?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” He climbs back into the Wrangler, and by the time I’ve opened the door, he’s already backing out of the lot.
I ignore Dom’s weirdness because my hip still really hurts. Even after Arsen’s magic hands the other night and an extra session with Tyler yesterday, I’m limping into the studio.
Tyler is usually waiting for me at the front desk, but the modern, wood-paneled lobby is empty today.
“Tyler?” I call, limping around a fiddle leaf fig and peering through the frosted windows of his studio.
The studio is always empty when I’m here. It’s part of the arrangement. Arsen pays Tyler what I can only assume is an ungodly amount of money to rent out the entire building during my sessions. It’s why Tyler is always ready to clear his schedule and book an extra session with me.
