kind of a mix between a handshake and a slap on the back kind of thing. “You must be Layla,” he says, pulling back. He surprises me when he tugs me into a hug.
“Royce,” Owen says, his voice sounding very similar to a growl.
“Oh, boy, here we go,” Sawyer says, standing next to Royce. “We had enough of that with this guy.” She points to her fiancé. “Layla, I’m Sawyer. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Both of you. You have a beautiful home.”
“Come on in.” Sawyer reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me inside. I trail along behind her as she leads us to the living room and takes a seat on the couch, offering for me to do the same. It’s not until I’m sitting that I notice she’s dressed just like me. Cutoff jean shorts and a tank top, and her feet are bare. “How was the drive up from Florida?” she asks.
“Not too bad. Owen drove the entire time. I offered to take a turn, but he refused.”
“Get used to that. If he’s anything like his older brother, he thinks he has to spoil you. Not that it’s a bad thing. It could be worse, but sometimes a girl just wants to drive herself to the damn mall,” she says, exasperated, making me laugh.
I nod. “I can definitely see that in Owen.”
“All five of them. I swear I don’t know how Lena and Stanley did it.”
“Their parents?” I ask.
“Sorry, yes, they are the sweetest people you will ever meet. How they raised five hoodlums is beyond me.” She winks, and there’s a twinkle in her eye telling me she’s kidding.
“Thank you for letting me rent your apartment. Are you sure you don’t mind?” I ask as the guys join us.
“Not at all. This one—” She points at Royce, who plops down on the couch next to her, throwing his arm over her shoulders. “—has been bugging me to break my lease for months. There are three months to go, and you’re welcome to let it go or stay once that time frame is up.”
“There is a slight delay,” Royce speaks up. “I called the cleaners to come in and have the carpets cleaned, and they’re doing that this weekend, so you won’t be able to move in until Monday.”
“Oh, I can just go to a hotel or something until then.”
“The hell. You can stay with me,” Owen pipes up. “Just like you did last night. You know I have the space.”
Something passes in his eyes that I can’t explain. He glances at Royce and quickly pulls his gaze back to me. “Thank you, Owen.”
“Why would you even suggest a hotel?” he asks, not caring that we have an audience.
“I didn’t want to assume or overstay my welcome.” I look down at my hands where I’m wringing them together in my lap.
“Layla.” The deep timbre of his voice has me lifting my head to face him. “You are welcome in my home. If it was up to me, you’d be staying with me. You know that. What’s this about?”
“I know you said that, but this is so overwhelming and new. I wanted you to have the opportunity to back out if you wanted to.” My voice is small, mindful of Royce and Sawyer being witness to our conversation. I can feel the heat of the embarrassment coat my cheeks.
“He’s not backing out,” Royce chimes in.
“Layla, you’re welcome to stay here if you’d rather not stay with Owen,” Sawyer offers.
“No. It’s not that I don’t want to.” I blow out a breath. “I grew up… not like this,” I confess. “This is a life that I’m not used to. My mother was only that because she gave birth to me. She had a revolving door of men, and the job, the move, I’ve been on my own for so long that this is hard to grasp.”
Owen pulls me into his chest as Royce moves to the edge of his seat, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes bore into mine. “Welcome home, Layla,” he says softly.
I blink hard, fighting back the hot tears that threaten to fall. “I’ve never really felt like I had a home.” I realize as the words leave my mouth that it’s true. Sure, I had a shitty apartment back in Florida, but it was never a home. It was a warm, dry place to lay my head at night. There was nothing “homey” about it.
“I’m starving. Layla,