Say You're Mine - Layla Hagen Page 0,16

have any of that.”

“Why not?” I climbed another step, which put me level with her.

“Because I might turn around and jump you.”

I’d never met anyone so sassy.

“I don’t have anything against that,” I assured her. “I promise I can carry you up these stairs no problem.”

I thought that would make her blush. Instead, she touched my right bicep with her thumb and forefinger, then the left one.

“Yeah, these seem rock solid.”

Winking, she turned around, walking up the stairs quicker than before.

Smiling, I followed her.

She took her time in each of the rooms, especially in the main one, heading straight to my piano, walking around it, touching the edge. I’d love to bend her over it, strip her naked, and sink inside her. A vivid image popped in my mind, and I had to make a concerted effort to focus on her words.

“So, I think if you record any clips of you rehearsing, or just being in this room, it would make fans happy. I’d say start doing this, and then you can go from there, depending on the fans’ reaction.”

“Sounds good.”

Something in my tone must have clued her in that my thoughts were elsewhere, because she turned around.

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything. Perhaps she could tell we were toeing on a fine line. It wasn’t just the physical attraction that made it so hard to keep myself in check. I liked talking to her about almost anything.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come after all.” Her voice was shaking lightly.

I didn’t even care about the damn party. All I wanted was an excuse to spend more time with her, but I didn’t want her to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with.

“Your call, Isabelle. I understand if you want to put some distance between us. But I really hope to see you at the party.”

Desire was in her eyes, and I kept mine on hers so she knew exactly what my intentions were. Then she asked, “Who knows how things might escalate though?”

When I answered, my voice was a whisper. “Yes. Who knows?”

I had it bad for her.

Chapter Five

Isabelle

Doting on my brothers was one of the finest pleasures in life. Of course, they sometimes saw “doting” as “nagging,” but we didn’t have to agree on everything, did we? Besides, they were equally “doting,” so they couldn’t hold that over my head.

“Ohh, you’re picking me up. I feel pampered,” I said when they both showed up on my doorstep on Saturday morning.

We were going to a breakfast hotspot near Josie and Hunter’s house. Our sister had given birth five weeks ago, and she insisted we meet somewhere that wasn’t her house because she felt a bit trapped.

We Ubered to one of the trendiest breakfast places near her house, The Bakery. We’d gone there right after they opened last month, and Josie immediately declared she wanted to come back. The restaurant became an instant hit and the lines were long, but luckily, I knew one of the servers, Cooper. He was a fellow guide at the tour agency where I moonlighted, and he got us the table. I wasn’t sure, but I thought he had a crush on me.

I texted Josie, telling her we’d arrived while my friend Cooper led us to our table.

I studied my brothers as we sat down. They were busy studying Cooper. I barely held back laughter.

“Are you going out with him?” Dylan asked once Cooper was out of earshot.

“No. I know him from the touring agency. We’re friends.”

“Aha, riiight.” Ian sounded unconvinced.

Dylan sat up straighter, keeping his eyes trained on Cooper when he returned to take our order. He spoke in short sentences, using a clipped tone. He’d gone into what I called “alpha intimidation mode.”

Ian shook his head, clearly having as much trouble fighting laughter as I did. I ordered for Josie too, because she’d messaged back saying she was going to be a few minutes late and was starving already.

“Guys, leave poor Cooper alone. I’m really not romantically interested in him,” I said once we were alone again.

“Hey, I didn’t do anything,” Ian said. “Dylan’s the Neanderthal of the family.”

I wondered what they’d do if I told them who I actually was interested in. Ian would probably go into the same mode right away too. He liked to say that Dylan got all the Neanderthal genes, but I had enough proof growing up that that wasn’t the case.

Ian yawned.

“Late night again?” I asked him. “Work or conquest?”

“Not work,” Dylan answered for him.

“Okay, then I don’t