Page 9 of Teach Me to Fly

I shake my head and force out an awkward chuckle. “No, I…” I swallow. “I guess I quit.”

His brows furrow as he slowly slides his hands into his pockets. He studies my face, as if he sees right through me. I look away and wait for him to say what’s on his mind.

But all he says is, “Welcome home, Angel.”

He steps around me; the faint brush of his shoulder causing an explosion of electrical currents to run up and down my arm. I stand there beneath the stars, the scent of his cologne, musk and mint, clinging to the night air. And my hands won’t stop shaking.

The next morning,I wake to sunlight and a stiff ache in my neck. I blink up at the ceiling, disoriented, then glance around and freeze. I’m on the couch with a throw blanket tangled around my legs, and the TV is on but muted.

I push myself upright slowly, heart thudding, trying to make sense of it. I don’t remember coming out here. I remember saying goodnight to Lando before walking back to the guest house, and I remember brushing my teeth, pulling on the oversized shirt I slept in, and crawling under the duvet. I even remember the way the mattress dipped beneath me and the way I curled into the pillow, still slightly tipsy.

I frown as I try to piece together the gap in my memory, but before I can trace it back far enough, there’s a knock at the door, or rather, a rhythmic, theatrical pounding that sounds like someone's using their forehead instead of their hand. I sigh and drag myself up, blanket still half-clinging to one ankle, my mind still stuck on how the hell I ended up here.

I crack the door open and find Lando looking like absolute hell in an oversized hoodie, plaid pyjama pants, and designer sunglasses comically large for his face. He's holding a paper bag in one hand and a takeaway tray withtwo coffees in the other, like some bedraggled saint of hangover survival.

"I come bearing croissants," he croaks, slipping inside dramatically. "Also regret, and potentially liver failure."

I step aside to let him pass, biting down a smile. "You look like you got run over by your own party."

"I did." He drops the bag on the kitchen counter like it weighs a thousand pounds. "Twice."

He slouches onto the barstool, setting down the coffees with a groan. I grab one of the cups from the tray and hand it to him, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"Define sleep," he says, wincing at the light as he peels off his sunglasses.

His eyes are bloodshot, and his mascara is smudged just enough to give him the tragic air of a rockstar mid-bender.

"More like passed out face-first on the sofa with an empty bag of kettle chips for a pillow."

"And yet you still remembered the croissants," I say appreciatively, digging into the bag.

"I'm a mess, darling, not a monster."

He takes a long sip from his coffee as a comfortable silence settles between us. I pull apart my croissant, my thoughts drifting back to last night’s run-in with Reign.

“I know that look,” Lando says, dragging me back to the present. “Spill it, love. What’s on your mind?”

I shrug, keeping my eyes on the flaky mess in front of me. “I ran into your brother last night,” I say, trying to sound casual before taking a bite.

He groans dramatically. “Ugh. Was he a total buzzkill?”

A small laugh slips out before I shake my head. “Not exactly. I think he was just getting back from a late-night rehearsal.”

I reach for my coffee, grateful for something to hide behind, and take a sip.

“He likes to use the estate studio at night,” Lando says, then tilts his head to the side. “But the real mystery is why you’re being so coy right now.”

I glance up to find him watching me, eyes narrowed with that knowing, teasing smile. His painted nails tap out a slow rhythm on the counter, and I know I’m caught. Leave it to Lando to see through me without even trying.

“I’m not being coy,” I say defensively, my voice higher pitched than I intend.

Lando bites his lip, trying to hold it together, but the laugh escapes anyway. “Don’t tell me you still want to get in my brother’s pants.”

“Lando!” I shriek, scandalized but also laughing as I shove his arm.

“I knew it!” he shouts before immediately wincing as he clutches his head with a groan. I bite back a smile when he slumps forward dramatically.

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