Page 107 of Layla

I throw back my head to laugh. “I don’t doubt that for a minute.”

We sit there like that for a long moment, me on my knees on the floor, Layla in my lap, holding each other tight.

“You want to talk about tonight?” I finally ask, and a shudder passes through her. “I know it’s hard,” I whisper into her hair. “But if I’ve learned anything these past few weeks, it’s how much talking helps.”

She pulls away to eye me. “What does that mean?”

I want to fidget, to look away, but I force myself to hold her gaze. “I started to see a therapist. Someone who specializes in PTSD.”

The hope on her face is unmistakable. “Yeah?”

I nod against her forehead. “I need to be with you, Layla. But I need you to be safe, too. And that means I have to deal with this shit.”

She frowns. “I hope that’s not the only reason you’re doing it.”

I blow out a breath. “I’m not going to lie. It’s a big one.”

She’s quiet for a minute. “What did he say? About the sleeping thing? Is it…I mean, does he think it’s dangerous? For us to…”

The fact that she’s still interested in sleeping with me after everything overwhelms me all over again. “He was encouraged by the fact I’ve never been violent during my nightmares before. And that you were able to wake me up so quickly.” I clear my throat. “We should probably sleep in separate beds for a while, but he thinks the nightmares will decrease now that I’m working on the problem.”

She nods. “Okay then.”

I’m so relieved by her easy acceptance it’s hard to breathe. At the same time, I can’t help but feel that surge of guilt. “You deserve better than that,” I mutter. “A man you can’t even fall asleep next to…”

“Can’t fall asleep next to fornow,” she insists. “Until we see how things are going, right?” She shrugs. “I can live with that. If it means I get to be with you, I can live with it.”

Jesus this woman. “There are some other things I could try,” I tell her. “Anti-anxiety meds could help. Or, um, leaving a light on.” That parts more than a little embarrassing but she just gives me that cheeky grin of hers.

“A nightlight would make it easier to see your body.” She waggles her eyebrows at me and I laugh, feeling some of the guilt drift away.

That’s what Layla does for me. She makes everything better than it was.

We’re quiet for a long moment. “What happened tonight, Layla?”

She stiffens against me. “I was so scared,” she finally whispers. “When I realized who he was, and I didn’t know if someone would come in time…” she trails off and I have to suppress the urge to apologize again. I should have been here.

I’m never going to make the same mistake again.

“Sean said Haylee found you first?”

Layla pulls away and I’m surprised to see she’s grinning. “She was awesome. I would have thought she’d freak out, you know? Whenever she would panic about what happened to her, she would always shut down. Freeze up. But she wasn’t like that at all. She was totally calm, and she kneed that asshole in the balls before James could even figure out what was going on.”

“She did?” I gasp. Sean hadn’t mentioned that, but Haylee’s warning from earlier sure makes a lot more sense now.

“It was epic,” Layla says. “I’m so fucking proud of her.”

I bring a hand to her face. That she would focus on Haylee in the middle of her own trauma really says something about the woman in my arms. “You’re a good friend, Layla.”

Her face turns serious. “They’regood friends. James, Dylan, Lance. Haylee.”

“What about Louis?” I tease.

She makes a face at me. “Louis too, I suppose.” Her expression softens. “They showed me something this week, John. Even though I was really missing you, and sad, I still had them, you know? And tonight, when everything went to shit, when I was so scared, they were there to stand between me and danger.”

I swallow, fighting down the panic that she’s about to tell me that she doesn’t need me.

“That’s a good thing,” she says gently, as if reading my mind. “Because it means I don’t just want you because I’m scared, or lonely, or desperate. Without you…” she shakes her head. “I would still survive, John. I would have a good life.” She places her hands on either side of my face, squeezing slightly. “But I know it would be so much better with you in it. I don’t need you to take care of me, or protect me. I need you because I love you.”

I have to kiss her then. I’m pretty sure I’ll start crying like a little boy if I don’t. Hell, I might cry a little anyhow. But Layla doesn’t seem to mind. She kisses me right back, wiping away any tears with a gentle swipe of her fingers.

And she doesn’t even tease me about it.