The Rules of Dating My Best Friend's Sister(99)

“Do you believe that I wasn’t intentionally hiding this from you?”

“I do, Lala. Okay?”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “Okay.”

***

I could finally breathe.

From the moment we’d landed in L.A., we’d been locked away in that dark studio, working on the demo through the entire freaking night. I hadn’t had a moment to think straight.

Being busy had been a good thing, though, because it kept me from ruminating about Lala. I felt bad for the attitude I’d given her during our phone call at the airport yesterday. In fact, I’d pretty much thought of nothing else for the first half of the flight over here before I started writing some lyrics to stop myself from totally drowning in my thoughts.

There was no part of me that wanted us to be apart sooner than we had to. Rather than opening up about that like I should’ve, though, I’d acted like her leaving didn’t matter to me. Like maybe she didn’t matter to me. I wasn’t sure whether I was trying to protect her from me or myself from her at this point.

But I’d gone long enough—more than twenty-four hours—without hearing her voice. That needed to end now.

Palm trees blew in the breeze as I stepped outside the building, feeling like I’d just emerged from a black hole into daylight. Leaning against the wall of the recording studio, I could see the Hollywood sign in the distance as I took out my phone to dial her.

“Hey…” she said when she picked up. “How did everything go?”

“We just wrapped up. I’m wiped, but we got some good stuff down.”

“I’m so glad, Holden.”

I could hear silverware clanking in the background. I knew it was close to dinner time on the east coast.

I sat down on the ground. “Are you in the middle of eating?”

“Yeah, no biggie, though. I’m so happy everything went well.”

“If I had to miss being with you this weekend, it better damn well have been productive and not a waste. I worked my ass off to make sure of that.” Looking up at the sun, I sighed, “I fucking miss you. I’m sorry I was a dick the last time we spoke.”

“It’s okay. You were upset. I’m sorry to have caused it.”

“Lala, listen. I’m…” I was about to explain why I didn’t want her to move back to Philly early when I heard a certain voice in the background. A male voice. And it wasn’t her dad, either.

I narrowed my eyes as my heart pumped faster. “Who’s there right now?”

“Hang on,” she said. There was some rustling, and then she came back on the line. “I needed to step away from the table.”

I tugged on my hair and snapped, “Why?”

“That was Warren you heard,” Lala whispered. “I didn’t want to talk about him in front of his face.”

Sucking in a breath, I seethed. “What is he doing there?”

“He stopped by the house to say goodbye before he has to leave for California this week. It turned out they needed him there sooner than originally planned. I didn’t want him to stay for dinner, but my parents insisted.” When I stayed silent, she asked, “Are you mad?”

“Why would I be mad? You wouldn’t care if I was having dinner tonight with one of my exes while I was out here, right?”

That was a cheap shot, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Point taken. I’m sorry if I upset you. I seem to be doing that a lot as of late.”

Listening for a moment to the sounds of traffic coming from Mulholland Drive, I took a long, slow breath to calm myself. “No, sweetheart.” I rubbed my tired eyes. “I’m the sorry one. It was bad enough that I was incapable of being there for you this weekend, but him being there in my place is a bitter pill to swallow. You can’t help it if he stopped by unannounced, though.”

“I didn’t have the heart to tell him to leave. This is probably the last time I’ll see him—possibly forever, for all I know.”

I doubt that. “Don’t think he’s not hoping you’ll try to change his mind about leaving. That’s why he’s there, Lala.”

I stopped myself from saying anything else about that. I was making this about Warren, when deep down, he wasn’t the problem. The problem was me. It would’ve been impossible to feel insecure about Warren, if I were secure in my ability to be the right man for Lala. He was with her and her family right now, and I was sitting outside a recording studio in L.A. while one of my bandmates got blown by some random girl in a car parked diagonally across from me.

The sooner we knew whether this could work between Lala and me, the better.

“I think you should take them up on the offer to work from Philly,” I blurted.

“You’re just saying that right now because you’re pissed Warren is here. I get it. But don’t give me advice when you’re angry.”

“While I’m not happy he’s there, that’s not why I said it. If things are meant to work out between us, the distance between Philly and New York shouldn’t matter.”

I could hear her mother’s voice in the background. “Why are you in here, Laney? Is everything okay? I just put out dessert.”

“Yeah. I’ll be right there, Mom. Everything’s fine.”