“You know why,” I say, stopping him from asking. “I might be giving my mother shit about her wanting me to marry Serena, but bringing a girl like Layla home would be suicidal.”
“So you’re going to marry Serena?” Lake asks, and grabbing hold of my elbow, he forces me to stop walking. “We had a deal. I agreed to the arranged marriage. Mason agreed to joining CRC. We did that for you, Falcon.” Lake’s eyes lock on mine, and I know now is not the time to brush him off or to fuck around. “All you needed to do was focus on getting the new business off the ground.”
“I’m not marrying Serena,” I say so he’ll stop worrying. Placing my hand on his shoulder, I give it a squeeze. “But that doesn’t mean I can marry just anyone.”
“Yes, you can. That was the condition. I’m bringing the business deal in with my marriage to Lee-ann. You and Mason don’t have to worry about that,” Lake argues his point.
He’s right, that was our deal when the three of us sat down to discuss our future.
“My parents will never approve of my dating Layla,” I voice my biggest worry.
“Since when do you care about their approval?” Lake challenges me.
He has always been able to see right through Mason and me.
“There are so many reasons why not to date her,” I admit. “For one, she’s Stephanie’s daughter. Stephanie will have my balls on a golden platter if I hurt her daughter. Let’s also not forget she knows every single thing about us and CRC. I’d be stupid to screw with that.”
“Stephanie is a professional, Falcon.”
“Layla will become a target. What happened with Grayson will only be the beginning.”
“We’ll protect her,” Lake replies to my worry.
“Who says she’ll want to date me anyway?” I begin to scramble for reasons.
“Yeah, you have a point. You’ve been a bastard the past week. Please, stop with the coffee orders. Mason and I can’t drink much more of it.”
A smile begins to form around my mouth, but then Lake says, “Do you like her that much?”
I’ve asked myself the same question so many times since Layla fell asleep in my arms and the answer is the same every single time. “Yes.”
“Then you should give a relationship with her a chance, Falcon. Don’t let her slip through your fingers.”
I nod, knowing it will be something I’ll regret if I let her go.
“But first you’ll have to grovel. Flowers, chocolates, cruises, Tiffany & Co.” I nod harder and begin to chuckle when he adds, “She’s a good match for you. She won’t take your shit.”
“Like you?” I ask, pulling him closer for a brotherly hug.
“Yeah, and seeing as I’m already taken, she will have to do,” he jokes.
Somehow, we get to the hall before Layla and Kingsley, even though they left a good ten minutes before us.
We join Mason at our designated table. I unbutton my jacket before taking my seat, then let my eyes scan over the tables again.
“Who are you looking for?” Mason asks, looking bored out of his mind.
“No one,” I answer, and reaching for the tumbler in front of Mason, I bring it to my face and sniff. “Whiskey?” I set it down again and lean back in my chair.
“Yes, or I’ll kill someone.” His eyes go to where West is sitting.
“If it’s that hard for you I’ll ask him to leave,” I offer.
Mason shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink before saying, “I just hate seeing him breathing.” A coldblooded look hardens his features. “The fucker got away with murder.”
Lake and I have tried talking to Mason about the accident his sister died in. Logically, it was an accident. It was snowing heavily the night Jennifer lost control of her car and collided with a tree. West also lost control over his car and crashed into the back of Jennifer’s car.
Mason knows this deep down because he was in the car with her when it happened, but the loss was too much and way too sudden. Hating West is Mason’s way of coping because he’s definitely not dealing with losing Jennifer.
“Excuse me,” one of the freshmen says, drawing our attention away from West. “Lake, Mason, I noticed you haven’t chosen your assistants yet, and I would like to hand in my application for the position. If that’s okay, of course.”
Mason stands up and taking the half-empty tumbler, he starts to walk toward the balcony. “There’s no way in hell I’m subjecting myself to that level of torture. He’s all yours, Lake.”
At first, the freshman looks like a regular nerd, but when I take a closer look, I see the intelligence in his eyes.
I’d bet my shares this guy is the genius we accepted.
“What’s your name?” I ask, and gesture toward an empty chair for him to sit.
“Really?” He rests a hand on the back of the chair, waiting, and when I nod, he quickly sits down. “Thank you. I’m Preston Culpepper. It’s such an honor to study at Trinity. Thank you for accepting me.”
“You’re studying Economics, right?” I ask, and leaning back in my chair, I smile at Preston.
“You know what I’m studying?” Preston asks, looking shocked.
“Yes, but not the reason why.”
Lake leans his elbows on the table. “Guys, not to interrupt your budding romance, but I’m the one who needs an assistant.” A mischievous smile forms around his lips. “Then again, I could take Layla, and you can have Preston. I don’t mind switching.”
“Preston, you’re Lake’s assistant. Congratulations,” I say quickly because there’s no way I’m giving up Layla.
“Are you guys joking right now?” Preston asks, an unsure look pinching his eyebrows together.
Lake holds his hand out to Preston, who cautiously takes it. “You start tomorrow.”
“I got the position?” Preston’s entire face transforms from unsure if we’re screwing with him to looking like he’s about to cry from total elation. “Thank you so much. I’ll do my best.”
Lake pulls his hand free. “Dude, relax. I’m the nice one out of the three.”
“I know, that’s what I’m most thankful for,” Preston says, looking over-emotional.
“Yeah, I’d want to cry too if I had to be Mason’s assistant,” Kingsley suddenly says behind me.
“Is that so?” Mason asks as he walks up behind Kingsley.
I’m usually good at reading Mason, but right now I can’t tell if he’s joking or pissed off. I get up and go stand next to him just in case.
Kingsley smiles awkwardly as she turns around to face Mason. A nervous look quickly settles on her face when she meets his eyes.
“In that case,” Mason grins which sets me at ease. He never grins while losing his temper, so Kingsley should survive whatever he has up his sleeve.
Mason walks to her and placing a hand on her back, he nudges her forward, while calling out, “Everyone, I have an announcement to make.”
Silence descends around us and Kingsley begins to shake her head, her eyes wide on Mason. “No, Mason. I really don’t –”
A huge smile spreads over Mason’s face. “Kingsley Hunt is my assistant. Let’s give her a round of applause.” Mason’s eyes are sharp on hers when he whispers, “She is going to need it.”
He walks away, and begins to move from table to table, talking with the students and leaving me with a dismayed-looking Kingsley.
After Mason’s announcement which got everyone’s attention, my eyes land on Layla.
Do you like her that much?
Yes.
Then don’t let her slip through your fingers.
Layla pats Kingsley comfortingly on the shoulder, and you’d swear Kingsley received a death sentence by the pained looks on their faces.
Well, we are talking about Mason here.
“You’ll be fine,” I say to her, trying to offer some sort of encouragement.
She starts to shake her head. “No, I won’t because he will expect it of me to be at his constant beck and call and let�
��s face it, hell will freeze over before that happens.”
“I’m sure Layla has a couple of tips for you on how you can win Mason over. She’s been doing a great job with me,” I say, knowing full well my words will catch Layla off guard.
“I have?” Layla asks, a stunned expression washing over her face.
“What are you talking about?” Kingsley asks, looking totally lost.
I gesture between Layla and me. “We get along well,” I lock eyes with Layla hoping I’m not wrong, “and like each other.” I pause for a moment trying to gauge Layla’s reaction to my words. She just stares at me with a slight frown on her forehead. Glancing back to Kingsley, I say, “There’s hope for you and Mason.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Kingsley comments, her eyes boring holes into the back of Mason.
I take two steps closer to Layla and tilt my head slightly to catch her eyes. “About you and Mason surviving or Layla and me liking each other?” I ask.
“About Mason and I not killing each other,” Kingsley snaps, then quickly adds, “Ohh… Ohhhh. Shit, I didn’t see that coming. Ahh, I’ll leave the two of you to talk.”
She scurries away from us, and I know I’m taking one hell of a chance by doing this publicly, but it’s for Layla. Everyone will know, and if they try to fuck with her, they’ll have to deal with me.
“Let’s date, Layla.”
You can hear a fucking pin drop on the plush carpet. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one holding my breath as I wait for her to say something.
Chapter 11
Layla
Let’s date?
Did Mason tell him I didn’t shine his shoes and now he’s taking revenge on me?
Is he pulling my leg?
Crap, I don’t know if he’s serious or joking.
Everyone is staring at us, and I have no idea what to do. I let out the breath I’ve been holding along with a nervous chuckle. Needing to defuse this situation, I decide to play along. If it’s a joke, then everyone gets their laugh, if not… Nah, I’m pretty sure Falcon is kidding.
“Why not? I don’t have better offers right now.” I hear the words leave my mouth, and I promise to all that’s holy, that was not what I wanted to say.
Yeah, let’s date.
Sure, wanna start now?
Of course, I’d love to.
Any of those would’ve been better. But… I don’t have better offers? What the hell, Layla?
I’m just about to start praying for the ground to swallow me whole when Falcon smiles. Like a full-on – sexy in a way which wakes my hibernating hormones – smile.
“That’s a yes, right?” he asks, stepping closer to me. He takes hold of my arm that’s been hanging next to my side like a limp noodle. Slowly, his touch moves down until he reaches my hand. When his fingers close around mine, it sends tingles rushing over my body like a monster tsunami.
I nod, not able to utter a single damn word right now.
Falcon looks over my shoulder and nods, and soon piano notes begin to fill the room. Keeping hold of my hand, he pulls me toward an open space where a violinist is standing next to a grand piano.
“I can’t dance,” I whisper urgently. “Falcon!”
He turns to face me with such an intense look all I can do is swallow. He guides my hand to his shoulder before placing his on my lower back and then closes the meager distance between us until our fronts are touching. My breaths begin to speed up when he raises our joined hands, and then he takes a step forward.
Oh. My. God.
Falcon holds me so tight, giving him full control over our movements. By the grace of all that’s holy, I manage to not mess things up, and when I get used to the pattern of our steps, I actually have a moment to appreciate the music.
Delicate notes drift around me, and it feels as if everything slows down, everything fades until it’s just us and the piano piece.
Slowly my eyes drift up until they find Falcon’s, and again I forget to breathe.
He was serious.
Falcon was dead serious, and it’s written all over his face as he stares down at me.
We get along well… and like each other.
Falcon likes me.
For a moment, while the notes weave a spell around us, happiness flows through me.
But it’s only for a moment.
Because he is Falcon Reyes.
And me? I’m just Layla.
Tongue-tied.
Out of my depth.
And as elegant as a baby moose taking its first steps.
Yeah, that about sums up the past hour of my life. I’ve been trying my best to be social, but ever since the dance, my whole existence feels wobbly.
There’s also Serena who somehow keeps popping up in my line of sight and the glares coming from her is icy enough to save the world from global warming.
And last, but definitely not least… Slowly, I turn my head to Falcon who’s standing next to me. My eyes glide over his side profile. The self-assured set of his shoulders. The cultured smile as he talks with others.
He’s a god and I a mere mortal.
He’s a mountain lion, and I’m… a baby moose.
He’s Jupiter, and I am Mercury.
He’s the kind of man you only dream about because being with him is the end disguised as the beginning. It’s the end of your individuality because there is no way your light can keep burning and not be consumed by his inferno.
I don’t think I can give up who I am for anyone. Dad taught me to love myself first. Only then will I be able to love someone else unconditionally. If I have to let go of my dreams, who I am, and who I want to become, I’ll only end up resenting him.
Sadness sprouts in my heart because the chance to fall in love with Falcon was only a cruel illusion.
“You ready to go?” Falcon asks.
My eyes come back into focus on his heartbreakingly, beautiful face. I nod, and he takes hold of my hand, linking our fingers together. I follow Falcon out of the hall, my gaze glued to our joined hands.
I try to memorize the feel of his skin against mine. I try to remember what it felt like to rest my head against his chest the night he comforted me.
I try.
In the shadows between two lamp posts, my feet falter to a stop. Falcon turns back to me, and I longingly take one last look at our hands before I pull mine free.
“Did you mean it?” I ask, not wanting to sound like an idiot if Falcon was only joking.
“What?” He asks and shifts to stand in front of me. “About us dating?”
“Yes.” I stare at the top button of his dress shirt, not having enough courage to meet his eyes.
“I meant it.”
My tongue darts out, wetting my lips, which feel parched. “Falcon, you’re an heir to CRC Holdings.”
“My family doesn’t have a say in who I date,” Falcon interrupts me.
He sees right through me with those gorgeous, intelligent eyes.
“We come from two different worlds.” I force my eyes up to meet his. “You have a private jet. I like to take road trips. You go to world-class resorts. I like roughing it in a cabin. The suit you wear costs more than all my belongings combined. But I love my belongings. I love my down-to-earth life.”
A breeze picks up and blows some of my hair across my neck. Falcon reaches for the strands, and his knuckles graze against my neckline as he brushes it back.
“That’s one of the things I like about you, Layla. There’s no pretense. You never hesitate to show what you’re feeling. You have spirit, and I don’t believe you understand the meaning of backing down even when you’re outnumbered. The girls I grew up with,” he shakes his head, “they’d still be in the hospital after going through the same thing you did. But not you. You defend yourself instead of calling the family lawyer or having your mother deal with the problem.”
“I’d probably die kicking and screaming one day instead of just going gracefully,” I try to joke.
�
�Layla,” Falcon’s voice drops low, and he cups my face as he closes the small distance between us. He tilts my head back, and our eyes lock. The moment is so all-consuming my body matches every breath to his. “My life is black and white, and I didn’t know what color looked like until I saw you. I agree we’re different, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to experience your world.”
“I really can’t see you going on a road trip and staying in a cabin.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” he says, looking so damn serious you’d swear he was busy with a board meeting. “The ski trip this December. Instead of flying there and staying at the resort, I’ll let you plan it. If I like it, you have to agree that we can work. If I hate it, I’ll agree that we won’t make it as a couple.”
“You’ll let me plan the entire trip?” I ask to make sure we both understand what the deal entails.
“Yes. The whole thing.”
“Okay,” I agree. “You have yourself a deal, Mr. Reyes.” I pull back and hold my hand out to him. A smile tugs at his lips when we shake on it.
Before he lets go of my hand, he quickly adds, “Until then we date.” He grins at me. “We shook on it so you can’t go back on the deal.”
“But.”
Falcon turns around and begins to walk away.
“Falcon, wait. That wasn’t part of the deal.” I try to rush after him, but the stupid heels are slowing me down. Stopping, I take them off then quickly catch up to him as he walks into our building. “Whoa, hold up,” I say as I dart around him and block his way with my arms wide to the sides and a shoe in each hand. “You don’t think we need to talk about our dating? This morning I was your assistant.” Scrunching my nose, I remember this afternoon. “Why would you ask the girl you like to shine your shoes?” I put my hands on my hips, frowning up at him.
He points at my face. “To get that look.”
“What look?” I try to see my reflection in the windows, but I’m too far away.
“The look where I’m not Falcon Reyes. I’m just a guy who annoyed you.” He pauses as his words sink in. “I’m just a guy.”
Oh, Falcon.
Falcon (Trinity Academy Book 1) Page 9
