Page 9 of For the Love of Layla

I want to go home.

“Hey, I know this might be a little forward, but if you’re down there’s an after party at my house. You should be my date.” His green eyes light up as he slips his hand down my arm. I glance at Ava, not really sure how to respond. Do I want to go?

Just do it. Something has to change, force it to.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” I take a long drink, forcing myself not to look disgusted as I do, not sure it works. His warm eyes light up as he leans in kissing me lightly on the cheek, “You can be my good luck charm tonight.” He winks before heading back through the crowd.

“Break a leg!” Ava shouts before turning to me, her eyes wide. I can feel the blush creeping up my neck. I can’t help the small twinkling of butterflies in my stomach before I down the last of my drink. That’s a good sign, right? I don’t remember the last time I had butterflies that wasn’t involvinghim.

“We should go find some seats.” Ava’s date states before pulling her from the bar.

“I’m going to order something else. I’ll find you guys in a few.”

Watching them head off before turning back towards the bar giving the bartender a small wave. I reach into my bag, pulling out my phone. I almost don’t turn it on.

Almost.

The nagging curiosity about the repeated calls overrides my better judgment. It doesn’t take long for my phone to buzz rapidly. One, two, ten, twelve texts flooding in.

What the fuck?

Unknown: Pick up the phone.

Unknown: Where do you think you’re going?

Unknown: Why would you wear that?

Unknown: Answer the fucking phone!

Unknown: Don’t you dare ignore me.

Unknown: I’m only doing this because I care, don’t be afraid.

Unknown: If he fucking touches you again, you’ll be sorry.

It continues like that. I yelp as it rings loudly, peeking up underneath my eyelashes to see if anyone is looking at me, they aren’t. Why would they be? I quickly leave the bar, scurrying into the lobby of the lounge. My hand shakes as it hovers over the green answer button.

Ring.

Don’t answer it.

Ring

Seriously, don’t do it.

Ring.

Click.

I pause for a moment before speaking, the anxiety clear in my voice despite my most valiant efforts to mask it, “Hello? Who is this?” Silence. I hear some kind of shuffling around, static almost before upbeat old timey music fills the speaker, a small soft voice singing faintly.

“I know

You belong to somebody

Somebody knew

But tonight

---