Say You're Mine - Layla Hagen Page 0,68

Let’s just enjoy the party.”

He stared at me. I was determined not to give in.

“Isabelle, if something bothers you, tell me. If someone bothered you, I want to know that too. You’re mine, do you understand? We’re in this together.”

I gave him a quick peck on the lips, caressing his cheek with the backs of my fingers. I had thick skin, but I was still annoyed. People like Lilian were insecure, and the only way they could make themselves feel better was by putting others down.

He clasped my wrist, pinning me with a hard stare. I shook my head. I simply wanted to pull myself together a bit. I decided I would tell him at another time—I wasn’t going to let her spoil our evening.

Chapter Twenty-One

Brayden

I was pissed off but also worried. Why wasn’t she saying anything? I wanted to know what she was thinking, why she was so on edge. But she was closing up right in front of me, and I instinctively knew that if I pushed more, she’d just shut me out completely.

This was so unlike Isabelle that I was completely thrown. She was always saying what was on her mind. I needed to find a way to get through to her, but I needed to be alone with her for that. Right now, the guys were approaching us.

“Gang, let’s take the insider pics before I’m too wasted,” Lars exclaimed. We always shared photos from the party on our social media the next day.

“I definitely don’t look like myself when I’ve had too much to drink, and everyone wants more of the sexiest man alive,” he added.

Isabelle gave me a small smile. Even though she was trying to act as if there was nothing bothering her, she looked vulnerable. Fuck. What’s going on?

“Lars, you’ve never been the sexiest one,” Harvey said.

Thomas nodded. “Yeah. Checked the top one hundred sexiest men alive lately? Harvey, Brayden, and I are in front of you.”

“Whatever,” Lars exclaimed. He took out his phone and snapped selfies while we all gathered behind him in front of a couch. Harvey was holding out a bottle of champagne. Thomas had his fingers in a V behind Harvey’s head.

I kept Isabelle firmly next to me. “Stay. I want you here,” I whispered in her ear.

Sasha and Cami were also in the pics. I was usually looking forward to this, because they gave fans a real glimpse into the evening, and into us—our lives. But right now, all I wanted was to pull Isabelle somewhere private. I was determined to do it as soon as we finished with the pictures, but I didn’t get the chance, because she and Cami went to the bathroom.

“Is it just me, or is your girl avoiding you?” Harvey asked.

How the fuck had he caught on?

“Not just you,” Thomas said. “Dude, whatever it is, don’t let it escalate.”

“Stop hazing the poor guy,” Sasha intervened. “Maybe Isabelle’s tired of you lot. Did you think about that?”

Lars rolled his shoulders, pushing out his chest. “Impossible.”

Sasha laughed, running a hand through her hair.

“I’m not in the mood for this,” I said, walking away from them. I went to the bar, ordering a glass of water; they’d only set out champagne throughout the room. The bartender handed me a huge glass immediately, and I chugged it down, needing to hydrate.

Lilian approached me. “Your little girlfriend seems sulky. Did I scare her away?”

I stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. I’m sure she ran to you complaining about our encounter.”

“What exactly did you tell her?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice calm.

“The truth. That she’s not part of this world. She doesn’t know how to deal with everything. And that you’ll get bored of her eventually. You need someone who can take on everything. And who’s much better looking and knows what the camera loves. Like me. She doesn’t even know how to dress up for an event like this. Who comes with an off-rack dress to a party full of A-listers? The reporters already asked about my outfit when I arrived.” She was smirking. Lilian had always come across as arrogant and far too self-assured. I’d never paid attention, because I had zero interest in her personally, and Sasha insisted she was good at her job.

I looked straight at her, determined to keep my voice low but strong and clear.

“You’re fired.”

She blinked. “What? You can’t do that. The tour season is about to start.”

“We’ll manage without you.”

“You’re not—”

“Effective immediately. Leave the premises