Page 39 of End Game
Layla gets to the bottom of the stairs and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I have some work to do and I just can’twork here,” she lies. “I’ve gotten crap done since we arrived and you know me and work ethic.”
“You seem to have been pretty productive to me,” I point out, goading her into looking my way. She doesn’t.
“Did Branch piss you off?” Finn asks. “I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”
If he only knew.
“No, Finn,” she says, forcing a swallow. The motion causes a little gold chain to move against the hollow of her throat. “Nothing like that. I just really need to get back. There are a couple of promotion contracts on my desk and I need to unpack. I had no business coming up here this weekend. Work, then play, and Lord knows I’ve not earned the play part yet.”
“Fine. Let us help you with your bags,” Finn says, reaching for Poppy’s floral piece when his phone rings in his pocket. He pulls it out and looks at the screen. “Hey, I need to get this. It’s Machlan. Can you wait a second?”
“Sure.”
“Hey, Machlan,” Finn says, disappearing into the kitchen.
The awkwardness is tangible as the three of us stand in the foyer. Poppy clears her throat and touches Layla gently on the shoulder. “I’m going to take my things outside.”
Layla nods, gripping her necklace, and watches Poppy cart her bag out the door.
“What’s going on?” I ask before the door even shuts.
“Nothing. Why?”
“I didn’t know you were planning on leaving today.”
“Plans change,” she shrugs.
Nodding, I try to stay loose. “They do. But that was quick. I had your pussy in my mouth?—”
“Branch!”
“What? It’s the truth.”
“And it’s also not public information,” she hisses, looking towards the kitchen. “Look, if you don’t mind keeping this our little secret, I’d appreciate it.”
My brows pull together. “I get you don’t want Finn to know. But why are you acting all weird about it?”
“I’m not,” she says, tucking another strand of hair out of her face. “I just, you know, am more of a private person than a lot of people and I’d rather not land on a magazine.”
She gulps, like she misspoke, and I can’t help but lift a brow. She looks away and plays it off.
“For what it’s worth, it was a fun weekend,” she says.
“I agree. The best one in a long time.”
We share a smile, one that stings my chest. Making a move to help her with her bag, I’m stopped when she stops.
“I got this, Branch.”
“Let me be a gentleman and help.”
She laughs, the sound pulling my lips up too. “You erased any gentlemanly behavior already today.”
A hundred things race to my lips, a host of things I want to say are on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t. Something in her eyes stop me.
“Good luck this season, Branch,” she says quietly.
“Thanks.” I dig for pockets to stick my hands into, but my shorts don’t have any. “Maybe we’ll run into each other sometime.”
