Page 9 of Layne Closure Ahead

It had been all too easy to hate him while he had been gone. Now that he was standing there in front of her looking like ten delicious sins worth committing, she struggled to keep her thoughts out of the gutter. While her dreams had made it difficult to forget how his hands felt against her body, having him standing right there in front of her was sending sparks straight down to her core.

Layne needed to stomp out the old flames of desire trying to light back up. She couldn’t let herself fall into this same old trap with him again.

She tossed the hoodie back to him. “I will go change. If you want to be useful, go make some coffee.”

She ran upstairs to swap out her wet clothes for a pair of dry joggers and an old UCLA tee. While she brushed the wet tangles from her hair in front of her bathroom mirror, she tried to run herself through a mental pep talk. Layne was not going to let herself get caught up in Joey’s charms, not after everything he had done. Recalling his betrayal, she couldn’t put herself through any more pain, even if he had his reasons.

Her eyes drifted down to the unassuming bottle sitting on the counter. After ingesting one pill to take the edge off of this unexpected visit, her hand paused as she examined the container holding the whispered promise of comfort and escape. The internal debate didn’t last long before she finally gave in to the temptation and swallowed one more little pill down.

When she came back downstairs, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted her. Following the trail, she found Joey seated at her kitchen table, legs propped up on the seat of a chair across from him with his arms folded in front of his chest casually.

The tattoos of various images flexed across his skin. She knew each one of them well. The clocks, the ominous ravens, gloomy headstones, gothic-looking skulls, and the spread of gentle roses between all of them. The least he could have done was cover himself up so they wouldn’t be such a damn distraction.

His eyes grew darker as he nodded over at the vase full of fresh blossoms. “Who sent those?”

The stems situated on her center island had been sent from Eric Ellis earlier in the week. They had come with an over-the-top designed invitation to a formal soiree he was hosting. Layne had no intentions of going to a party where a bunch of people got all dressed up just to talk shit in a classy upper-crust type of way. Thanks, but no thanks.

She noticed the dark green mug on the table and approached, lifting it to take a careful sip as to not burn her mouth. “Why do you care?”

He scoffed incredulously. “I don’t.”

“Well, you obviously do or else you wouldn’t have asked.” He wasn’t the only one that could call bullshit when they saw it.

Her emerald eyes stared at him while waiting for him to dare and try to tell her otherwise. She took her seat on a chair across from him, drawing her legs up underneath her comfortably criss-cross style. The mug assisted in warming up her hands and getting rid of the chill the rain had set into her bones.

Wisely and predictably, Joey changed the subject. “As I told you, I need a favor.”

“Oh?” She didn’t hide the fact that she was delighted she was in a position of having something he needed.

Ignoring her sass he continued, “I have a contract that’s a little outside of my typical job. Less physical confrontation and more gathering of information and surveillance. Then, depending on what I find, I suspect it will end as it always does.”

Listening to him explain the reason for breaking his way back into her life and her house, she waved her hand at him.

“I get it, so what do you need from me?” Forcing him to cut to the chase as she took another sip from the dark brew that he still managed to get just right with the perfect amount of half-and-half.

“Access to Eric Ellis. I heard he’s going to be throwing a party under the guise of charity or some bullshit like that.”

Layne coughed as the coffee started to go down the wrong pipe and she put her hand up to her mouth wiping away the hot liquid.

He raised a brow, dropping his feet down from the chair, ready in the event she truly was going to suffer death via coffee.

Layne shook her head adamantly. “No way.” She put her coffee mug down on the table as she got up to grab a napkin to wipe her hands off. “Figure it out on your own, I don’t want any involvement with this. Absolutely none.”

He got up and walked over to her, his presence still holding that aura of intimidation and dominance he had always been so good at asserting.

“You owe me, just get me in there.” He stared down at her intently.

Layne stepped back bumping into the pantry door. “Damnit, Joey, I said no! I don’t owe you shit. I’m not getting involved with that arrogant, self-absorbed asshole. What makes you even think I could get you in any way? I don’t just get social invitations to every party on the Upper East Side.”

He smirked. “So, you do know about the event.”

Exasperated, she tossed her hands in the air. “Yes, ok? I know about it, but I’m not going. I am not playing a delicate princess for a night and have to pretend to like these people just so you can go play secret agent and snoop around for whatever it is you are looking for.”

When she went to move past him to go back to the table, his tattooed hands slid around her waist to stop her in her tracks. His hold pulled her in close to him so their bodies were flush up against one another.

“Just one favor, that’s all I’m asking.” His voice dropped to a low tone that still had the power to make her legs quiver.

Her breath was stolen away from her when she found herself in the comfort of his touch that she had been unwilling to admit she had missed. But damn, did she miss it. Simultaneously, she was beginning to feel the ease of the two pills she had taken upstairs seeping into her system.

---