a pair of jeans then tiptoe downstairs. The house is so quiet I figure I’m the only one up until I walk into the kitchen and see Laylen stretched out on the floor. His blonde hair is damp, and his tattooed arms flex as he twists a wrench around a pipe underneath the sink.
Laylen is utterly gorgeous and dangerously sexy, and we get a long fantastically. There are rare occurrences when I look at him and wonder what it’d be like to be with him. But I know it’s mostly my hormones and newfound emotions possessing me. That I sometimes might be attracted to him, but there’s only one person who can make me feel . . . Well, I haven’t completely accepted what I feel for Alex. Deep down, I think I know where my emotions are headed, though.
“What are you doing?” I ask Laylen through a yawn.
Laylen dips his head and smiles up at me. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. You’re up early.”
“So are you.” I sink down into a chair at the table. “Fixing the sink, I see.”
“Yep.” He taps the wrench against the pipe. “That stupid drip has been driving me fucking nuts.”
“God, I wish every problem was that easy to fix.” I picture picking up the wrench and banging Nicholas on the head with it over and over again until he finally spills whatever secrets he’s keeping from me.
Laylen’s brows knit. “Are you okay? You seem really depressed lately.” He frowns as if realizing something terrible. “It makes me worry that I’m not doing a very good job when I promised Alex I’d make sure you’re okay.”
“It’s not that.” I shake my head, loathing that I’ve been so down lately and hating even more that Laylen is concerned. “I swear I’m fine.” I force a smile. “I’m just stressed out”—I wave at the boarded window—“with the apocalypse happening and everything.”
His expression softens. “Gemma, you need to stop worrying so much. We’re going to fix this”—he pauses—“without sacrificing you and Alex.”
“I hope so.”
He sternly points the wrench at me. “Well, I know so, so cheer up.”
“Okay.” I force another stiff smile.
“Are you sure that’s all that’s bugging you?” he asks, growing concerned again. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”
I absentmindedly splay my fingers across my stomach. “Can I?” I whisper. Just thinking about telling him everything makes me want to vomit. “Laylen, I swear to God I’m fine. I just don’t feel very good. That’s all.”
He gives me a skeptical look before leaning back and reaching for the pipe again. After he fiddles around for another minute or so, he tosses the wrench onto the tiled floor and sits up.
“That’s it. I give up,” he surrenders, throwing his hands into the air. “Clearly, I suck at the plumbing thing.” He stands up, stretching his arms above his head, giving me a glimpse of his rock hard abs that I try not to gawk at too obviously. “I guess we’re just going to have to deal with the dripping.” Lowering his hands, he pulls up a chair and joins me at the table. “You never said why you’re up so early. Is it your nightmares? Or is Nicholas bothering you? Because if he is”—he cracks his knuckles as a smile plays at his lips—“I can totally take care of him for you.”
I contemplate on where to start. “It’s that stupid nightmare again that woke me up. I can’t stop dreaming about my death, no matter what I do.”
His expression plummets. “Is it the one with you in the coffin?”
I nod. “Yep and everything happens exactly the same, no matter how much I tell myself I’m going to try to manipulate my dream.”
He drapes an arm around my shoulder and pulls me close to him, stroking my shoulder with his fingers. “You know I won’t let that happen. You’re not going to die until you’re super old and have lived a full, happy life.”
I rest my head on his shoulder, hoping somehow he’s right. “I wish it were that easy—that you could just want something to happen and it would—but nobody can control the future.” I gesture at the back door that has five deadbolts and three chains securing it. “Otherwise, stuff like what’s going on outside happens.”
A scream comes from outside, adding an emphasis to my point.
“We’re going to fix what’s happening,” Laylen promises, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “But without anyone dying. There’s been too much death already.”