the couch of the Luxury Marathon Coach that Layla ordered specifically for the two of us so we wouldn’t have to travel the next few months with her band. She wanted us to have privacy and who was I to argue? I wasn’t about to leave her side for one minute, even while she finished out her farewell tour, so living a few months on a bus that is bigger than my house is fine by me, especially when I get to go to sleep every night with the feel of Layla’s body pressed up against mine.
Layla shoots me a dirty look over her shoulder for my laugh, and I drop my head to my laptop and finish typing up a report to send to Gwen while the argument on the bus continues and I work to keep my smile contained.
I have a lot to smile about lately. Things are going good with Gwen. She filed for divorce and so far, her ex doesn’t seem to be causing much of a fuss. He’s not contesting the divorce, and he hasn’t even tried to contact her since he was served. Even though I feel better knowing we don’t have to keep looking over our shoulders, I still don’t trust the guy. Since I plan on being by Layla’s side through this entire tour, Layla suggested that Dylan stay behind to keep an eye on Gwen. Not only was I elated that I wouldn’t have to worry about Gwen and Emma while I was gone, I wouldn’t have to worry about that asshole trying to make a move on my woman. Two birds, one stone, and all that shit. Gwen and I knew Dylan back in high school and finding out he was in the bodyguard business was an added bonus. He and Gwen used to date back then, now that I think about it. This might be a recipe for disaster when she sees him, but that’s not my problem. At least she’ll be safe.
It’s been three weeks since I went to the Red Door Saloon and got my girl back. Her tour is going great, and while her fans are sad that she won’t be performing for them anymore, they understand her need to move on, and I couldn’t be more proud of her.
Even though Finn tried to cancel the insurance policy on Hummingbird Records, he didn’t have the power to succeed. All of the money came directly to Layla, and once she’s finished touring, she’s going to build again and run the business the way her father did: by being fair, open-minded, and listening to her clients' wishes. Every time I look at her, I’m amazed at how strong she is after all she’s been through. She has her moments, though, and every once in a while I can see the grief and sadness overtake her features, and I know that I need to remove her from whatever situation she’s in, close the door, and just hold her in my arms and let her cry. Some days are more of a struggle then others, particularly when something reminds her of Finn. He was her whole world for a long time, and she constantly battles with her emotions, not knowing whether to hate him or feel sorry for him. She’s going to be okay though, my girl’s a fighter. And I’m going to be here every step of the way to take care of her.
I look up at Layla when I hear the door to the coach slam closed and she sighs, turning around and removing the computer from my lap before climbing onto me and taking its place, straddling my thighs and wrapping her arms around my shoulders.
“Boys are gross,” she states with a roll of her eyes.
I laugh and reach up to brush her bangs out of her eyes.
“I’m a boy. Am I gross?”
She shakes her head at me and smiles. “No, you’re not gross. You’re hot. And we should get naked now.”
Layla starts unbuttoning my shirt while I laugh, and when she’s halfway down, my cell phone rings. With a groan, I pull it out of my pocket and growl my hello while Layla tries to distract me by nipping her teeth into the side of my neck.
“Austin, what the hell do you want?” I ask, goose bumps rising on my arms as Layla swirls her tongue around my ear lobe.
“I just got your voice mail. Um, are you sure you want me to fill in for