6. Stetson
STETSON
Torturous light beams burn red through my closed eyelids.
Morning could change its name to hell. A sour layer coats my mouth as I dare to open my eyes.
Shifting to my side, it’s instant karma.
My brain pounds against my skull, desperate to find a nicer body.
I rub my heavy eyes, before cracking one.
They bolt open at the site in front of me.
For a second, my tortured body forgets it all.
Layla sits with her back to me crossed legged on her kitchen counter. An easel in front with the sunlight hitting the canvas perfectly. Sultry music pulses through the air—only now registering in my brain.
Is she painting animals to this music?
Her sleep shorts ride a little too high, and a strap from her tank top falls loosely off her delicate shoulder.
God, I miss the taste of her soft skin. Dark curls pile on top of her head as some wispy strands hang about.
The paintbrush loosely twirls around her fingers as she thinks. A portrait of beauty.
Coffee whiffs through the air, but my body seems unsure if it’ll act as poison or fuel. Fragments of my night at the bar drift in and out. Layla shoots me an unsure gaze over her shoulder. I remember our conversation before she puttered off to bed like a deer in the headlights.
“Once you’re able to stand, please close the door on your way out.” Her eyes track to the door as if leading me to it, but then her gaze returns. She’s fighting curiosity, and I’m too weak to strut over.
“Did you remove these?” I’m in nothing but briefs, though very confident there was no sexy time. That’s shit I’d remember.
“Nope.” Layla blows out a breath, clearly more frustrated than expected. She turns back around pretending to focus on her work.
“So, what happened last night?” I test to see what she’ll bring up. It’s foolish of me to sit up. My body is heavy and wobbly.
“Water is on the table beside you.” She doesn’t face me, but her ears pick up on movement despite the low base of this song pulsing on beat with my head.
“I remember you left the bar early and discreetly paid for my tab within seconds of me turning to chat with a buddy.” Emasculation resurfaces because never have I let women pay for my drinks or their own. My dad would tan my ass for that.
“Mhmm.” Her tone remains annoyed.
“Why?”
“You punched Clint.” She holds onto her paintbrush like an emotional support item. “Don’t worry. Karli made sure you bought drinks for everyone when I got the call at 2 am.”
Maybe don’t check the visa…
“Can you please look at me when we’re talking?” Her eyes have always said what she couldn’t…wouldn’t.
Layla turns, but her eyes focus on my new bicep tattoo. Now is not the time to acknowledge her checking me out again—especially with that damn music.
“Interesting song choice.” Using all my strength, I stand. “Trying to set the mood?” Her eyes narrow but she bites the inside of her cheek, fighting a smirk.
“It’s what I paint to.” Her eyes glue to mine because staring at me in nothing but my briefs would be too obvious.
“The beat’s a little loud and thumpy.” But it’s a tempo I’d like to thrust into her to.
“Not to those sober.” She rolls her eyes.
“You’re too old to roll your eyes.” Though, her sass twitches my cock.
“There’s only one place I’ll take orders from a man, and we’re not there.” The beat of silence between us cues the music to hum a moan of seduction to a slower base. A raspy female voice sings about the story of her and a man giving into temptation.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Universe thinks it’s so damn comical. Opening my eyes, Layla’s flick down my body, then past me like she wasn’t caught.
“What? No comeback?” Her head tilts to the side with attitude.
“Guess I have restraint.” Fuck, I wanna feel her mouth pressed to mine.
“You were really drunk last night.” The distaste in her voice is enough to prevent me from having more than a drink or two from now on.
“I’m sorry.” It’s sincere, changing the energy.
The paintbrush taps against her thumbnail as her molars clamp her cheeks.
“I refuse to be my mother.” Layla’s standards are higher and I want to prove I’m the man she needs...after this hangover settles, of course.
“How is she?”
“She moved to the city after the funeral. We talk or visit on holidays.” Layla shrugs. “We were never super close. She’s happy living her fresh start in life just as I am.” Layla brings a smirk to my face checking me out once again.
“Hmm,” I hum as her nipples pebble through her shirt. And it’s definitely not from the cold. I step closer to the counter.
My cock stiffens through my briefs, but I don’t care to hide the effect she has on me. Her little inhale tells me everything. “Nothing else you want to mention?”
“I took out a new toothbrush for you.” So sweet. Suddenly needing to piss, I take a minute in the bathroom to splash water on my face and brush my teeth. I put my jeans on, bringing the focus higher.
“Layla.” Her body tenses when I meet her at the counter. “About last night...” Her breathing increases.
“I’m debating truth or drunken words.” Her hands support her as she sits cross-legged, leaning back. Placing my hands on the counter, I’m inches from her face.
“You mean how I didn’t tell you I was a virgin, too?” My grin shoots pain to my head, but it’s worth her gasp as her eyes widen. “I was shitfaced last night, but I know what I said.”
“Is it true?” Her words are rushed. “Why me? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why you? Easy. I cared about you. I hadn’t met anyone else who earned that vulnerability.” Plain and simple. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to question if I knew what I was doing.”
“You knew what to do.” A tinge of red paints her cheeks but her eyes fill with hurt.
“But vulnerability? You knew I was a virgin, Stetson.” She swallows, her voice slightly reaching that familiar pitch again.
“You signed the contract and were ready to bolt. Like the night we shared was just another hook up to you.” I move back, fully taking her in.
“I didn’t sleep with you to keep you around, but it all happened so fast.”
“I hurt you.” It was an unintentional dick move. I wasn’t thinking straight at the time. “Being mad at me for how I left things is valid. That morning replays through my head, eating me alive.” My eyes hold hers. “I should have done more than watch you walk away.”
“Like what?” The paintbrush drops out of her fingers, and her eyes remain on it.
“I should have not cared who was around and taken your face in my hands, kissing you like I meant it. Because I did.” Her eyes don’t lift to mine like I hoped. “I should have walked you home since you wouldn’t accept the drive.”
She shrugs.
“Layla, I should have been more serious about us, but at the same time, both our careers were demanding in different ways.” My fingers gently curl around her chin, tilting her gaze up.
She takes a deep breath.
“And I couldn’t have given up painting to go on the road with you. Most of my income came from local events, not online commissions like today.” Her lips roll in before her eyes flick to my lips. A heavy sadness fills her brown eyes. “Plus, what would Karli have said?”
“I mean, she doesn’t have a fighting case today considering she’s fucking my best friend.” I need to stop using that phrase as an example because it’s not the alcohol alone churning my insides.
“I didn’t want to lose your family even if I was just another notch in your belt.” Her jaw tightens. Our ranch is her second home.
“I knew you couldn’t lose them.” My parents adore her and there was no question about setting an extra place for her at dinner or telling her it was time to go home. If anything, they just assumed she’d stay the night.
“Losing them would have broken me. They’ve been my saving grace through the darkest times.”
“Leaving you was one of the most difficult choices in my life.” She huffs, clearly doubting me.
“Didn’t seem like it the morning you got the call.” Fair enough.
“I wasn’t in a place to be fully present with you or commit to a long-distance relationship either.” She nods slowly.
“Consideration sucks sometimes.” Her bottom lip pokes out and I can’t help myself.
My thumb traces the outline. Her breathing stalls for seconds longer than normal.
She remains still, trying to look calmer than her heart will allow.
“Stetson.” My name is caution. A warning to how close I am. Control hanging on by a thread.
The low base thumps through us. Her swallow is almost audible as her eyes land on the speaker.
“You wanna pause?” Our proximity is dangerous but perfect all at once.
“The music or whatever this is?” She glances down at my stance.
The steady rhythm of the song has my pulse in sync with it, each second feeling longer than the last, heightening Layla’s body cues.
Her chest expands with each breath. Her eyes draw me in, mouth parting to create that little gap.
Layla’s tongue moistens her lips before her teeth gently tug the bottom.
It has the same effect it did before years passed.
With her looking at me like this, I’m fucking gone.
“You tell me, Layla.” She places her hand on my bicep, the hazy look in her eyes roping me in. It’s all the approval I need.
I close the breath of space between us, my body recognizing her like the time between was but a second. Her soft lips are hesitant, almost nervous because this kiss could ruin her if we crash. I won’t let that happen.
I pull her closer, gripping her hips, and her legs uncross.
Layla digs her heels into my back as my thighs hit the counter.
There’s my girl—taking what she wants. She moans and wraps her arms around my neck, deepening the kiss.
My hand slides into her hair, making a fist, not wanting to let go.
She echoes a whimper in my mouth; a primal grunt travels through my throat. I’m about to lose control.
As quick as this kiss happened, her lips tighten, breaking it. Layla slides her hands down my chest and pushes, slowly creating distance.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the morning we woke in the Suburban.” My forehead rests against hers as I catch my breath.
“We...we could ruin everything.” She looks down, her hands magnetized to my chest. “I can’t lose you twice.”
Please look at me.
I can’t be just friends with her. Not after tasting her lips and feeling her warmth hug my cock.
“Layla, how I feel is real.” Her face cradles perfectly in my hands. “I’m all in, sweet girl.”
“You just got home. It’s happening too fast, Stetson.” Layla’s touch vacates my body. “I need to get back to work.” Fuck. She scoots toward her canvas and picks up a brush.
“You’ve got a busy day at the market.” Her head tilts, eyes finding my lips again. “I’ll let you be.” For now.
Hot air stifles around me, debating whether to walk back to the ranch as punishment for getting hammered.
“Stetson, wait!” Layla trots down the side steps from her apartment above the shop, her pebbled nipples peeking through her tank top holding my attention. Fuck, I want to bite them. “I’ll give you a ride home.” She stops in front of a corolla almost as old as her.
“You said you’d never buy a Toyota.” I tease. She claimed to be a Chev girl through and through even before getting her license.
“Not all of us can make millions in eight seconds. This car was in my price range.”
“I’ll have to change that.” She gives me a pointed look, shaking her head no.
“I worked hard for this, and it’s mine.”
We head down the street, the radio quietly playing.
“Kissing you was the last thing I expected.” Layla stops, taking her hands off the wheel before turning into my long driveway.
“I want to do it again.” She pauses and I nod, encouraging her to finish her thoughts, “but everything with you, and the intimacy between us...” I take a deep breath, hoping she mimics the action. She does. “It gives me anxiety.”
“Understandable, sweet girl.”
“Let’s…see how it plays out.” My hand rests on her thigh as she bites back her smirk.
“I’m down for playing.” A sense of accomplishment warms me when my deep tone has her pressing those pretty little legs together.
“You need to go home, mister.” Gravel crunches under the tires as she continues driving.
My mom smiles, waving from the porch as we pull up. Their biweekly dinners with Layla never changed in the time I was on the road.
“What do you think she’s got in her head about this?”
“She’ll think we hung out like we used to.” Layla shrugs, keeping her gaze on my mother. “You’re gonna tell her you got drunk and passed out on my couch.”
“Will we see you for dinner this week?”
Keeping my eyes, or hands off her the entire dinner will be my biggest challenge.
“We shall see.” She shoos me. “Go clean up because you reek of alcohol.”