Page 125 of The Tryst

“It meant a lot to her…and it means a lot to me,” he says, the hurt vanishing from his tone.

I’m tense, but it’s a good tension, full of hope and possibility.

“It’s still weird though,” he says.

“I hear you.”

“I mean…we dated the same girl, Dad,” he says, then turns to me, his eyes sayingcan you believe that.

“Yeah,” I say, then I just shrug likewhat can you do? “I guess good taste runs in the Adams men.”

He snort-laughs. “Oh, god. Please. No dad jokes about Layla.”

“That wasnota dad joke.”

“Thatwasa dad joke,” he insists.

I’ll let him have this victory since I’ve won something better. His respect. “Fine. It was,” I add, then I gesture to the kitchen. “Stay for dinner?”

He lifts one brow in the biggest question of all time. “She’s not coming over for dinner, is she? Because I’m not ready for a family meal to meet your…new girlfriend.”

I laugh. “No. She’s not.”

I picture Layla right now, maybe out with friends, or shooting a video, or practicing Krav Maga, but still concerned about David and his feelings. She’s let me take the lead, but she wants to make things right with him as well. I set a hand on his shoulder. “She cares deeply about you. She thinks of you as a good friend and doesn’t want to lose you.”

David nods thoughtfully. “I’ll see her soon. I promise. But it’s going to take a while for me to get the image out of my head of her telling me at the diner that she was going to have a date with somesexy, powerful man she met at a conference.” He mimes gagging.

I just laugh. What else can I do? Especially since that’s a hell of a compliment.

But as I’m about to head to the kitchen, he grabs my arm, his face deadly serious. “Don’t hurt her.”

It’s a cold, clear warning.

“I won’t,” I say, assuring him.

He squeezes harder. “I mean it. She’s been through a lot. She’s one of the strongest, toughest, brightest, most supportive people I know. And if you break her heart, I don’t know that I can forgive you for that.”

I fucking love him. I extend a hand. “That’s fair. And I promise you, I won’t break her heart.”

He shakes. “Don’t lie to me again either.”

Chastened, I agree. “I won’t.”

On that note, our roles return to the way they were. I wave him into the kitchen. “Get in here. You need to learn to cook.”

On a grumble, he follows me.

43

CLOSET ROMANTIC

Nick

I’m not a superstitious guy, but on Friday night, I do everything the same as I did when I had my first date with Layla.

After I shower, I play her videos as I trim my beard, brush my teeth, and get dressed.

“And for those of you just getting into makeup, no, a highlighter is not what you use in a book to underline your favorite parts,” she says with the cheekiest of cheeky grins. “It’s what you use to highlight your favorite parts of your face.”

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