Lyla: “Oh, just lying in bed thinking about you.”
Charlie: “Hahaha. I’m sorry you don’t have anyone better to fantasize about.”
Lyla: “Oh, but I do. Daddy told me I can’t play with him though.”
Charlie: “What?”
Lyla: “I met Cole, my new roommate, last night, and I got an insta-lady boner, but Marcus put down his bossy foot and told us no, lol.”
Charlie: “OMG you finally found someone you actually want and M said no? WTH? I don’t know Cole very well, but Marcus speaks really highly of him. I wonder why he’s saddling you with a chastity belt when I know he likes him. I guess it wouldn’t be a very good idea though since you don’t commit, and you all live together now.”
Lyla: “Yeah, probably not. Especially since my ass is all kinds of a hot mess right now.”
Charlie: “Well, I may not have a penis to offer you, but please feel free to come and see me. It’s been way too long.”
Lyla: “Are you at the studio?”
Charlie: “Yep. Currently in the record room.”
Lyla: “Your favorite room in the whole world. Yeah, I know. ;) I’ll be there in 45. Want me to bring you lunch?”
Charlie: “Sure! Taco Stan is out on his usual perch. I’m sure he’d flip to see you. Might even score lunch for free.”
Lyla: “Cool! Consider it done. See you soon.”
I close the message window and hurry to the shower. Afterward, I find my new suitcase with all the new “girly shit” Marcus bought me. Remembering his excitement from our shopping trip, I start to smile. It’s easier today for some reason.
I slip into a thin yellow dress with long sleeves and a tie that wraps around my waist. It falls to mid-thigh, and I grab a pair of white flats and put them on. I apply a little makeup and grab my phone, put it in my purse which I find by the door, and head downstairs.
The house is completely quiet, and I wonder which room is Cole’s. Which is stupid because I don’t need to know that. I see his note and grab it along with the key and head out into my hometown. I just pray no one here knows what happened in Chicago.
I’m greeted with the glorious California heat. Oh, how I’ve missed it. The gorgeous blue sky is almost cloudless. Seagulls fly toward the beach up ahead, diving for French fries and taco scraps. The walk will be too short to the boardwalk, and I’ll have to Uber to the studio so I’m savoring every minute.
Some of the Mission district buildings have been remodeled into upscale diners and boutiques. All it’s missing is a full-scale restaurant like Warehouse 39, I think to myself, before I push it back into the far corners of my mind. Never to be thought again. I hope.
Passing the Ferris wheel, I find Stan and his taco stand in the exact same spot I first saw him when I was eight years old. A skinny, hungry little girl who was too scared to ask for a taco. He called me out and fed me every day until I met Charlie and Marcus. The old man is sporting a gut and gold chains these days but doesn’t look a lot different from that day almost twenty years ago.
“What’s up, Stan the man?” I say with the biggest smile I can muster.
“Oh, holy hell, it’s Lyla Turner as I live and breathe. You know I wake up every day hoping I live long enough to see you again one day,” he says as I come around the cart and wrap my arms around his belly the best I can.
“It’s nice to see you too, old man,” I say with a squeeze.
“What’s a guy got to do to get a hug like that?” a deep familiar voice says behind me. I release Stan, and we both turn and look. Cole, in all his plaid and man bun glory, is standing in front of the taco cart, smiling at me. This smile is different. Playful and friendly without the heat of before. Which is kind of disappointing.
“How you doin’, Cole?” Stan says and starts pulling out tortilla shells and making Cole’s tacos, knowing the man’s order by heart. That’s weird.
“This here is my girl, Lyla; she was raised on my tacos and now she’s a famous city chef in Chicago with her own fancy restaurant. Can you believe that?” He points to me, beaming with pride. “And the sweetheart still comes to see me of all people. How’d I get so lucky, darlin’?”
Stan hands Cole his tacos but looks at me, smiling. I roll my eyes and smirk. My heart drops. I have to correct him and tell him I’m not a chef anymore. “Actually, Stan—”
“You are a lucky man. You must be so proud of her. Beautiful and she cooks! That’s a lethal combination,” Cole interrupts me and winks.
I roll my eyes back at him, and Stan hands me two beef tacos. Just the way I like them. “Thank you,” I say softly, smiling up at his rosy cheeks and patting the old man’s belly a couple of times. I turn to look at Cole, but he’s turned around and started walking back across the street.
“Hey, Stan, I have to run, but I’m back home for good so I’m going to come see you all the time now,” I say, backing up and slowly rounding the cart.
“Well, that’s great news. You just made my whole year. Lyla!” he says loud enough so I can hear as I walk away. I wave back and then turn to cross the road. When I finally catch up to Cole, I’m embarrassingly out of breath so I just hit his shoulder, gasping for air and laughing at myself.
“You okay there?” Cole says, looking down at me as I’m bent over trying to catch my breath. Even without air I notice how hard and sculpted his bicep is.
“Hey,” I finally spit out.
“Hey,” he says, looking back at me, amused.
“Thanks for the save back there.” Jerking my thumb over my shoulder toward the cart, I right myself and fall in step beside him.
“Yeah, no problem.”
“I’ll tell him the truth tomorrow,” I say more to myself than to him.
“Or next week or never. Your secret’s safe with me.” He shrugs.
“Well, as much as I wish never was an option, I’m sure news will travel, and I’ll have to face the music eventually.”
“Lucky for you today is not that day.”
I just nod and look over at him. “You get lunch there often?”
“Almost every day. No one makes fish tacos like Stan, am I right?”
“You are right. He is the best. Always has been.”
“Are you guys related? You seemed close, and he’s clearly proud of you.”
I cringe and look over at him “It’s a long sappy story, cool if I just say we go way back?”
“Sure,” he says with a surprised look on his face.
“Cool. Thanks.”
“Mind if I ask you a question?” Cole asks.
“And here I thought I was getting out of it,” I say, glancing at him and finding him staring at me with that sexy grin again.
“No, no, don’t get me wrong; I will never ask you to explain personal shit. I promise,” he says, laughing.
It’s a really good laugh; in fact, it’s such a nice laugh I now need a dry pair of underwear. Since when am I so awkward? With a blush I’m sure he can see, I clear my throat. “Okay then, sure, what’s the question?”
“How are you single? I mean, are you single? You’re like a magic unicorn, both gorgeous and doesn’t want to bitch my ear off. Not to mention the fact you have legit things to complain about, but you don’t, and you don’t want to.”
He shakes his head with a shocked look on his face.
“You’re blowing my mind right now.”
He laughs and I join in. A big unladylike laugh. I shrug, not sure what to say. “Yeah, I’m not a big fan of sharing my feelings, but trust me I can bitch with the best of them. Just don’t want to right now. It doesn’t change anything. Maybe I’m in denial. I think I’ll stay here for a while.” I smile over at him when he glances my way.
“That’s super fucking sexy. Not that I’m allowed to tell you that since Marcus firmly put his foot down on any chance I might have had,” he says with a wink. “So if he asks, I did not just call you super fucking sexy.” He slows down the three words, blatantly looking straight into my eyes.
He laughs again, a big loud belly roll. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable now that we’re living together,” he says calmly now, the last few words rolling off his tongue like they taste bad.
“Wow. All I heard from that was how excited you are to live with me,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
He smirks. “Sorry. I honestly don’t have a good track record living with women. It’s not your fault, I know, but even the thought of it gives me hives. All the more reason Marcus had a good point about me keeping my hands to myself.”
His shoulders rise and fall. He doesn’t look at me, and I wait a few minutes as we walk.
“Well, I agree. As unhappy as I might be about it.” I blatantly look him up and down. “I don’t want a relationship. Like ever, and I’m probably a typical girl when it comes to having a messy bathroom, so I guess, just be glad you don’t have to share with me.”
I stick my elbow out and graze his ribs.
“Silver lining though, I can cook hella good food so maybe my bad qualities as a roommate will even out.”
I throw out my cheesiest smile, showing as many teeth as possible. He still doesn’t say anything, but a giant smile stretches across his face like I said something that was the exact answer to his trivia question.
“What? What did I say?”
“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head, ripping his gaze from mine.
“So we agree. We will not be enjoying any kind of sex with each other,” I say in a low, sad voice.
Looking at his shoes, he doesn’t say anything either, and I hope I’m right in saying he looked as disappointed as I felt.
“Well, these tacos aren’t going to eat themselves, and I totally forgot I promised Charlie some. Which means I’ll need to get some for Marcus too,” I say with more pep, hoping it doesn’t get awkward.
“Okay. I have a meeting around the corner but should be home around four.”
“Good for you.” I wink.
“Sorry, bad habit, one I promise to break as soon as possible,” he says, looking embarrassed and turns and walks backward until he reaches the corner. “See you around, Lyla.”
“See ya.” I turn around with what I know is a stupid fucking grin on my face and walk back to the taco stand.
5
Lyla
Twelve tacos are tucked in a big brown sack in my arms. I push the lobby doors open to Studio 39 and strut in with confidence I don’t really feel. Stepping inside, the air conditioner welcomes me in a heavy wave of freezing air that gives me insta-goosebumps. Cold chills ripple up my arms as I walk around the empty front desk and down the left hallway where Marcus usually is. I find him alone, slumped over a control panel, his eyes closed with beats blaring, and I walk in and set our food down on the low table in the corner surrounded by a black couch and two matching leather chairs. I don’t want to stop him, so I lay my purse down and scoot out of the room to look around for Charlie.
The record room is down on the other side of the building, but I find it easily. Pushing it open, I immediately hear her voice singing a soft song. I recognize it as Lauryn Hills’ “Killing Me Softly.” Her voice gets louder as I make my way through the maze of record shelves. I’m a solid three minutes into the labyrinth when the room opens and sitting on a large high table is Charlie in her old black faded Chevelle t-shirt, ripped jeans, and signature cherry-red Chuck Taylors. Her curly blond hair is full of volume and completely unruly but beautiful. Her blue eyes shine bright behind her black-framed glasses when she sees me, and she yanks the big, Beats headphones off her ears.
“Aaaaahhhhh! You’re finally home!” she shouts, jumping down from the table and walking fast into my open arms. We hug tight and for probably too long, but it feels great. An embrace that feels like home, like family. I feel my stupid tears threatening to prickle my eyes and, I step back.
“Don’t you dare make me cry,” I warn.
“Oh, I would never,” she teases dramatically.
“So, I realize this is a dumb question, but how are you?”
“I’m alright. Been better, of course, but at least I’m here and not in Chicago cooking my life away.”
“You are so right about that. Gorgeous weather, beautiful people, and fantastic tacos. You should have come back a long time ago.”
“I really think you’re right.” I shrug.
“Speaking of beautiful people, are you enjoying your new roommate? I gotta admit I am jealous of that eye candy.”
“Yeah, Cole seems cool.”
“Seems cool?” She eyes me suspiciously. “Cole is a cool guy, but I was talking about how unbelievably good-looking he is,” she says in her best Zoolander with her lips pooched out in duck lips.
I burst out laughing, tears dotting my eyes. It’s hard to breathe I’m laughing so hard and Charlie is too.
“What’s going on in here?” A guy walks in from around the corner.
“Hey, Mason,” she says, catching her breath. “This is my girl, Lyla. Lyla, this is Mason, Marcus’ protégé.”
“Nice to meet you, Lyla,” he says, looking me up and down.
He looks a lot like Marcus when he was eighteen. Smooth dark skin, short cropped hair, a golden-boy smile, and a body built to take more than one woman at a time. I laugh and shake my head, just remembering the way my best friend used to behave before he met Grace and they had Harmony. “Nice to meet you too, Mason.”
“I’ve heard a lot of good things about you. Everyone’s real happy to have you back.” He makes a point to meet my eyes, then licks his lips while rubbing his hands together.
“Mason, I’m gay.”
He reels back surprised. “Really?”
I smile “No.” And I bat my eyelashes at him.
Luckily, he laughs—not every man would. “Damn, baby, just tryin’ to know you. You’re a beautiful woman, Lyla; you can’t blame me.” He starts walking backwards to leave. “I’ll leave you gorgeous ladies to continue on with your day, but I came in to tell you, Charlie, that Marcus found a new band he wants so he obviously needs your approval. He said he’ll have a demo to you by tonight, and if not please remind him. He has more details.”
He shrugs and turns down into the rows of vinyl records. I look over, and she’s already reaching for her phone to check her email. “New band, that’s exciting!”
“Why didn’t Marcus just tell me himself? I just saw him.”
“Mason has a bad habit of annoying Marcus, so he makes him a go-fer just to get rid of him sometimes,” she says, staring down at her phone. “He’s really not that bad. I would even dare say he’s a good guy.” She raises a shoulder.
“Oh, would you, now? A good guy and hot too; am I right?”
“Yes, he is, Lyla, and we are also not interested in each other, but all the power to you, love,” she counters with narrowed eyes.
“Touché. But tell me this. Your lack of interest has nothing to do with Wade, right?” I ask her very cautiously, knowing this is a very touchy subject.
“No, it does not, Lyla. Wade can burn in hell. Thanks so much for reminding me,” she says and strides over to a shelf of records where I notice a notebook with tiny stars all over it.
“I’m sorry, boo. I didn’t mean to bum you out. I just needed to make sure. Let’s talk about something else. Anything. Tell me something I don’t know yet.”
“Um…”
“What is happening, my beautiful ladies? You will never guess what just happened to me.” Marcus strides in, cocky grin in place. “I was in the production booth listening to a new track when all of a sudden the smell of Stan’s tacos wafts through the air, engulfing me in teenage memories. Any idea how that happened?”
Charlie and I roll our eyes at his dramatic entrance. “You’re welcome.” I wink.
We joke a
round, and it’s just like the old days when we were kids, just hanging out in Marcus’ parents’ record store. The memories rush through us, and hours go by without us even realizing it. The sun starts to set, and the room fills with vibrant oranges and pinks streaming in through the windows and bouncing against the walls and shelves. It’s beautiful and cozy, just how I feel surrounded by the love of my real family.
“Do you guys remember the first day we met?” I ask my two favorite people on earth.
“Of course!” they both say in unison.
“That was a long-ass time ago. A couple lifetimes it seems like now, looking back. Mom and Dad’s record store was my least favorite place until that day.” Marcus says.
“I still can’t believe you and I had never met before then, Marcus. I was there every day,” Charlie adds.
“At the time I never wanted to be there. I was always out with friends. It was summer break—I was seventeen I think—Dad said I had to work at Record 39 starting that day, and I was pissed. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck working with my mom and dad instead of being at the beach,” Marcus continues.
“I came in looking for a part-time job, and you were overjoyed to train me,” I say, batting my eyes and grinning at Marcus.
“Liar,” he says with a laugh.
“It’s funny how much we instantly hated each other,” I say.
“Hate is a strong word, but I did not like you; that’s for sure. Not until we met Charlie.”
Charlie laughs. “I was lying down up on an old bookshelf in the back corner, and Marcus came over and asked me what the fuck I was doing and scared me so bad I fell.” She air quotes because Charlie has cursing rules. Mainly, she doesn’t unless the situation calls for it, or so she says. Such a classy bitch.
“Then I caught you as you fell into my arms.” He winks and blows a kiss her way, and we all laugh.
“Sad thing is that’s still the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.” She pouts.
“Still better than me.” I laugh even though it’s true. “I came running up behind you guys and asked if everything was okay. You weren’t exactly staring into each other’s eyes.”
Whiskey and Honey: Can a forbidden fling be real love? (The Empire Records Series Book 1) Page 3
