Faking with Benefits : A Friends to Lovers Romance(57)

He closes his eyes. “I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t hit on sad women,” I say, snatching the paper bag out of his hand. “I’m not that much of a damn manwhore. Wait out here if you want, I’m going in. I might even manage to keep my pants on.” I stomp over to Layla’s closed bedroom door and nudge it open with my foot, peeking inside.

Josh and Layla are both in bed. Josh is sitting propped up against the headboard, staring down at Layla sleeping on his chest like she’s the centre of his damn universe.

Poor bastard. He can deny it all he wants, but this obviously isn’t just a crush. He’s head over heels for Layla.

Damn. This isn’t gonna end well.

He glances up when I step inside. “Thanks for knocking,” he drawls.

I shrug. “I brought food. She’ll forgive me, I’m sure.”

Disturbed by the noise, Layla rolls over sleepily, cracking open one eye like a slumbering dragon. She studies me for a second, then closes her eyes again. “Josh?” She murmurs.

“Mm?” He says, stroking her arm.

“Zack is in my bedroom.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” I lean against the wall, looking down at her. “Maybe this is just a wet dream.”

She shakes her head, burying it back in the pillow. “Can’t be. You’re wearing clothes.”

Great. Now I have a semi. “That can be rectified, lass. You just say the word.”

“Sorry.” She sniffs. “I don’t sleep with home invaders.”

“You can’t blame me,” I insist. “I got lonely. Did you two get it on last night and not invite me? That’s just plain rude.”

Josh rolls his eyes.

Layla stretches like a cat. “We just cuddled.”

I can’t help the grin that spreads over my face. “You? Cuddled?”

“He did most of the work.”

“Well,” I say. “I bet I’m a better cuddler than he is.”

She doesn’t respond.

“Did you hear what I said?” I ask helpfully. “I said I bet I’m a better cuddler than he is.”

She sighs, obviously still too sleepy to argue, and lifts the quilt, inviting me into the bed. “Come on, then.”

Finally. Dumping the food on her bedside table, I climb into the bed next to her. The pretty pink sheets are warm from her body. I wrap my arms around her, and she practically purrs, stretching to give me a little kiss.

I fight the urge to laugh at her. “You’re so sweet when you’re tired.”

“Need coffee to be a bitch,” she mumbles, burying her face in my chest. “You’re soft.”

Josh snorts. “Did you fix the t-shirts?”

I scowl. “I don’t know what’s wrong with them. We just can’t get the company to print the right colours. The graphics are fine, but the actual fabric shades are all wrong.”

Layla groans into my shirt. “God. You’ve been giving them HEX codes for the colour shades, haven’t you?”

“... yes?”

“Honey. No. You’re designing a shirt, not a website logo. You need to give them Pantone codes for the cotton and vector codes for the print.” She snuggles closer.

I stare at Josh. “We’re literally dating a girl who went to fashion school. How did we not think to ask her?”

“Because you’re dumb,” Layla announces, closing her eyes. “Also, your garment labels are weird. I’ll give you the number of the girl who designed mine. Where’s Luke?”

“Hovering nervously in your living room.” I point at the bag on the nightstand. “He spent, like, fifty quid on breakfast for you this morning, by the way. You might wanna eat it before it gets cold.”

Her eyes flutter open again. “Um. Why?”

“It’s an ‘apology gift’, apparently.”

She stiffens. “Apology?”

“Mm.” I gather her a little closer against my chest. “He’s walking around like he’s murdered someone. Don’t think I’ve ever seen him so guilty.”

“Crap,” she mutters, pulling out of my grasp and sitting up. Her hair falls in rumpled waves around her face. “It wasn’t anything he did.”

“He said something about you getting hassled at the pub last night?” I prompt. “He seems pretty cut up about it.”

Josh sits up, his gaze sharpening. “Is that what happened?” He demands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Layla runs her hands over her face. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbles.

Josh and I exchange a look. “Reckon we should switch up the syllabus?” I ask. “Skip right to next week’s lesson?”

“Only if she wants to,” Josh says. “Don’t push her.”

“What is it?” Layla asks cautiously.

I pat her thigh. “Telling your partner all your secrets.”

She looks at me flatly. “Yeah, right.”

“That’s seriously it!” I protest. “I can email you the lesson plan, if you like.”

She looks up at Josh, and he nods, tucking some hair behind her ear. “It’s actually about being emotionally vulnerable,” he says quietly. “But he’s right. After the first few dates, maybe a few sleepovers, the next step to intimacy is opening up. Letting someone into your private, personal life.” He kisses her shoulder gently. “You want a serious relationship, not a casual fling. The only way you can get to that next level is by being vulnerable.” He reaches out and takes her hand, threading their fingers together. “I don’t want to pressure you. But if you want to work on opening up, you can trust us. We won’t hurt you with anything you tell us.”