Layla - Colleen Hoover Page 0,9
like this,” she says. “The womb is one existence. As a fetus, we didn’t remember life before the womb, and we had no idea if there would be life after the womb. All we knew was the womb. But then we were born, and we left the womb and came into our current realm of existence. And now we can’t remember being in the womb before this life, and we have no idea what comes after this life. And when our current life ends, we’ll be in a different realm altogether, where we might not remember this realm of existence, just like we don’t recall being in the womb. It’s just different realms. One after the other after the other. Some we know for a fact exist. Some we only believe exist. There could be realms of existence we’ve never even entertained the idea of. They could be endless. I don’t think we ever really die.”
Her explanation makes sense, or maybe I’m just feeling agreeable because my mouth is on her breast. I grab another condom as I ponder her theory. It seems more probable to me than the idea of pearly gates or fire and brimstone ever has.
I’m still convinced that there is life and there is death and that is all there is.
“If you’re right, then I like this realm the best,” I say, covering her body with mine.
She parts her thighs for me and grins against my lips. “Only because you’re in it.”
I shake my head as I push into her. “No. I like it best because I’m in you.”
CHAPTER TWO
I stare at her for a few minutes, hoping she doesn’t wake up right away. Her hand is draped across my chest—a deadweight as she sleeps. I try to drag out the moment because I know how one-night stands work. I’ve had my fair share of them. I’ve snuck out of a lot of beds, but I don’t want to sneak out of this one.
I’m hoping Layla doesn’t want me to sneak out of this one.
She’ll wake up soon, and I know how she’ll feel as soon as she does. She’ll probably shield her eyes from the sun and roll over while she tries to remember how we got here. Who I am. How she can get rid of me.
Her fingers are the first thing to move. She drags them from my shoulder, around to the back of my neck. She keeps her eyes closed as she pulls me against her so that she can tuck herself against me.
I’m relieved that I’m familiar to her—that she just woke up and knows exactly where she is and who she’s with and isn’t trying to pull away.
“What time is it?” she mutters. Her voice doesn’t float out of her throat this early in the morning. It’s a scratchy whisper and somehow even sexier than when she’s wide awake.
“Eleven.”
She looks up at me, her eyes puffy and smeared with mascara. “Did you know eleven in the morning is the deadliest time of day?”
That makes me laugh. “Is that a fact?”
She nods. “I learned that in college. More people die during brunch than any other time of day.”
She’s a hot mess. I love it. “You are so strange.”
“Want to take a shower with me?”
I smile. “Fuck yeah.”
I assumed we wouldn’t actually shower in the shower, but it was a legitimate invite.
I’m massaging conditioner into her hair, asking her questions I normally wouldn’t ask a girl after a one-night stand. There’s just so much about her I want to know.
“Is Aspen your only sibling?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like her?”
“I freaking love her,” Layla says. “I don’t really agree with her taste in husbands, but whatever works for her.” She looks over her shoulder at me. “Do you know what his name is?”
“No. What’s his name?”
“Chad Kyle.”
“No way,” I whisper.
“I’m serious. That’s his actual name.”
“Is it fitting or unfortunate?”
“Unfortunately, it’s fitting,” she says. “He’s such a typical Chad. Frat boy, country club membership, a quarter-ton pickup, and a dog named Bo.”
“That explains why he likes Garrett’s Band.” I grab the handheld showerhead and begin rinsing her hair. When it’s wet, her hair goes down to the middle of her back. I’ve never washed a girl’s hair before, but it’s kind of sensual. So is the shape of her head. It fits perfectly against my palm. “Your head is sexy.”
“How can a head be sexy?”
I cover her eyes with my free hand so soap doesn’t run into them. “I don’t know. But yours is. Or maybe