Faking with Benefits : A Friends to Lovers Romance(53)

But Layla doesn’t want to open up to me. Why the Hell would she? She was getting bullied for years, right under my nose, and I didn’t do anything to help her. I was her teacher, and I let her get hurt and harassed. I let her down.

My phone suddenly dings in my pocket. I stand up, my head spinning. “I… I need to make a call.” I mutter. “I’ll be back in a minute.”





THIRTY-TWO





LAYLA





Luke is gone for almost ten minutes, which I appreciate. I take some deep breaths, then wipe off my cheeks and pull open my clutch, looking for my compact mirror. By the time the door behind me opens again, I’m blotting my lipstick with a tissue, and I feel much steadier.

“I’m going home,” I tell Luke as he steps outside.

He nods. “If you can hang on a second, Josh will pick you up. I need to go do some damage control.”

I frown. “Is something wrong?” Is he just trying to get out of sharing a car with me?

He nods. “There’s been an issue with one of our merch shipments. The t-shirts have been printed in the wrong colours.” He rubs his eyes. He looks exhausted. “Zack and I are going to see if we can sort it out. Josh will take you home.”

“I can get the Tube myself…” I start to say, but before I can finish talking, a familiar silver car pulls up by the curb. My shoulders slump. Great. Someone else to witness how pathetic I am.

The car’s lights flash, and Josh opens the door, stepping out into the road. He looks like he came here in a hurry; his black hair is ruffled, and the collar of his dark coat is turned up. His concerned gaze immediately goes to me. My stomach crunches with embarrassment.

Josh slams the door shut and makes his way to me, but Luke waylays him, grabbing him by the shoulder and saying a few words in his ear.

I bristle. What is he saying about me? Take care of her. Make sure she’s okay. She’s upset.

Josh raises an eyebrow, then nods, turning to me and offering me a hand. “Let’s go home.”

“Why are you on babysitting duty?” I ask sullenly.

“I’m your boyfriend, aren’t I?”

“Josh.”

He sighs. “Because I’m the one least likely to treat you like a baby,” he answers, his voice flat. “Come on.”

My cheeks burning, I let him help me off the stone step and lead me to the car, still idling on the curb. He opens the front passenger seat door for me, but I ignore it, opening a door in the back instead. Embarrassment is rushing through me in hot waves. I don’t need taking care of. I’m fine.

“Bad night?” He asks, climbing into the driver’s seat and buckling in.

“Bad day,” I mutter, and he nods, turning his attention back to the road.





We’re silent on the drive home. Josh keeps glancing back at me in the rearview mirror, worry clear in his eyes. I ignore him, watching the streetlights flash by the window, rolling amber stripes of light over my bare thighs. When I picked this outfit out earlier, I thought it looked hot.

Now I just feel gross.

I close my eyes and press my forehead against the cold windowpane, breathing deeply as we wind through the London roads back home.

When we reach our building, the lift is broken, so we climb up all six flights of stairs in silence. By the time we finally get back to our floor, all I want to do is take off my heels, strip off these stupid shorts, and step into a scalding hot shower. I need to wash this night away.

Josh walks me to my flat door, and I pull my key out of my clutch.

“Well. Good night,” I say, fitting it in the lock. “Thanks for coming out. You didn’t have to do that.”

He nods but doesn’t move.

“Bye,” I prompt, unlocking the door and pushing it open.

He peers in over my shoulder. “Have you got new lampshades?”

“...no?”

“Are you sure? Can I check?” I stare at him, and he sighs. “Can I come in with you?”

I hesitate. Normally I would say no. I feel crappy, and I don’t like other people to see me upset.

But this is Josh. As my eyes scan his chiselled face, emotion tugs inside me. For once, I don’t want to be alone. I want to be in his arms, so badly my skin aches. And I don’t know why.

I shrug. “You’re my boyfriend, aren’t you?” Before I can change my mind, I take his hand, leading him inside my dark apartment.





THIRTY-THREE





LAYLA





“You want a drink or anything?” I ask, kicking off my heels and heading for the kitchenette. “Water? Wine?”

Josh shuts the door behind him and bends to unlace his shoes. His phone beeps in his pocket, and he hooks it out, checking the screen. “Hang on a sec,” he murmurs, typing back a quick message. I pour us both some water. When I turn back around, he’s migrated to the couch, and is frowning at his phone like he wants to throw it out of the window.

“Who is it?” I ask.

“My brother,” he says shortly. “He wants my help organising the guest seating for the wedding.”

“It’s just in a few weeks, right?”

“Hm.” His phone bleeps again, and he sighs. “And that was Luke.” He starts tapping at the screen. “He wants to know if you’re doing okay.”