Page 36 of Layla

I don’t respond, just step back so she can pass me into her room. As she moves to shut the door, I hold out a hand to stop it. “I’m sorry about Miami.”

Her back is to me and I can see her shoulders slump in defeat. “It’s fine,” she mutters, her voice toneless. Then she pushes the door closed, leaving me alone in the hallway, knowing that she’s not fine at all. And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

* * *

My efforts toremain detached are helped greatly by the busy schedule in the next few days. Layla is constantly with the band, shuttling back and forth between venues and radio stations, the bus and hotels. I hear her awake on the bus one night, but I don’t get out of bed to see how she’s doing. I do check with the tour manager to make sure the kitchen is stocked with chocolate milk and cookies.

The band’s mood lifts when we reach Miami. The sun is shining and it’s hot as hell out, a welcome change after the cold and snow we experienced on our swing down the east coast.

Only Layla seems withdrawn. Louis told the band she wouldn’t be attending the club opening due to a previously scheduled phone interview. They all gave her a hard time about it—except for Lance, who eyed her with what I was pretty sure was suspicion. That guy seems way too observant for my liking.

“I can’t believe I have to hang out with the boys without you,” Haylee says when they all gather in the hallway outside their rooms before the event. “There is going to be so much testosterone in that club, Layla.”

Dylan pounds on his chest. “That’s right. Manly men and our manly testosterone.”

Layla rolls her eyes. “This band is a matriarchal society, Dyl, and you know it.”

He opens his mouth to argue but Lance smacks him on the shoulder. “Just agree with her man. It’s a lot easier that way.”

“Where’s Simon tonight?” Layla asks.

Lance jabs his thumb back towards his room. “He’s staying in with the sitter. Why, you wanna hang out with him?”

Layla glares. “Yeah, cause it’s not bad enough that I don’t get to go out clubbing, I definitely want to spend my evening watching cartoons.”

Lance ruffles her hair. “Won’t be the same without you, babe.”

“Yeah,” James adds drily. “Who’s going to shamelessly objectify all the male servers right in front of us?”

She gives him the kind of overly sweet smile that’s definitely a warning but before she can say something snarky, Louis appears. “Let’s get going.”

There’s a chorus of goodbyes as he herds the rest of them towards the elevator. “I’ll do a shot for you!” Dylan calls over his shoulder. Then it’s just the two of us, standing in the hallway outside her room.

“What are your plans for the evening?” I ask, and she scowls, crossing her arms.

“I’m not confined to my room?”

“Of course not. This isn’t house arrest, Layla. We just didn’t want you at the club. You can go out for dinner or see a movie—”

“By myself,” she cuts in. “Real fun.”

“You wouldn’t be by yourself,” I point out, but she only scowls more deeply.

“Right. My babysitter would come with me.”

It takes a lot not to wince at that.

“Seriously, John,” she goes on, and I’m pretty sure I hear hurt in her voice. “You’ve been completely standoffish lately. You won’t even look at me. And that’s fine—I get that you’re doing your job. But it’s not exactly fun to hang out with someone who’s going to spend the whole night scowling and refusing to make eye contact with me. If that’s my only other option, I’d rather just stay in my room.”

“Layla—”

“No, it’s fine,” she says again, and God, I’m starting to hate the sound of the wordfinecoming from her mouth. She clearly isn’t fine. Nothing about this is fine. “You’re here to do a job, not be my friend. I’m not mad about it. I just don’t feel like going out with someone who makes it clear they’d rather I would have stayed in my room.”

I close my eyes. Shit. I hadn’t meant to make her feel like that. Why does it seem like I can never win with this woman?

Before I can think of a response, she’s turning back to her room. “I’ll just watch TV or something. Have a good night.”

“Make sure you let me know if you decide to leave,” I say, the words automatic, but I can see the way they make her tense up in the moment before she steps through the door.