Page 12 of Layla

Layla

The phone rings way too early the next morning. I groan, burying my head in the pillow. Maybe they’ll leave me alone if I ignore it. As soon as the phone stops ringing, it starts again. This time I curse, fumbling for it. It’s only then that I realize it’s the room phone, not my cell.

“’Lo,” I mumble into the receiver, wincing when the cheerful voice on the other end of the line chirps, “Good morning, Miss Perry. This is your eight a.m. wake up call.”

“Thanks,” I manage before tossing the phone back on the nightstand. I had forgotten for a moment where I was. That’s pretty common with touring—we’ve been to more than a dozen cities in the last month.

Telling myself that I can take a nap on the bus, I pull myself from the bed and stumble towards the bathroom. I’ve only made it a few steps before a knock on my door draws me up short. I scowl at it. Everyone in the band or on our crew is well aware that I do not speak to anyone before I have my coffee. Even Louis respects that rule, having been on the receiving end of my pre-caffeine rants one too many times.

I peer through the peephole and curse when I see John on the other side. He’s dressed almost identically to the outfit he wore last night, except I think his tie might be gray this time. Is this guy for real? Does he realize that he’s on tour with a rock band?

His voice makes me jump back from the peephole. “Miss Perry, I know you’re there. I heard you swearing.”

I pull open the door. “What do you want?”

His eyebrows go up. “Someone is chipper in the morning.” Then he snaps his mouth closed as his gaze flicks down. It’s only then that I realize I answered the door in nothing but a t-shirt. It covers all the most important parts, I guess, but not much else. Almost as quickly, his eyes snap back to my face. Or, rather, a point directly to the left of my face. Are his cheeks getting red?

“Did you need something?” I ask, unable to keep the smirk off my face at his obvious discomfort. Serves him right, knocking on my door this early.

“I wanted to make sure you were awake.”

I cross my arms, glaring at him. “I didn’t realize it was in your job description to wake me up in the morning.”

Still, he keeps his eyes trained on that spot to my side, not quite meeting my gaze. “You had a late night,” he says, voice tight.

I reach out to grab his arm and he visibly flinches. “What are you doing?”

“Checking to see if you have coffee. Maybe you’re hiding it behind your back? Surely you didn’t knock on my door this early in the morning unless you were bringing me coffee.”

Finally, he smiles, just a little, the barest hint of his lips pulling up at the corners. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

“There doesn’t need to be a next time,” I tell him. “You don’t need to check on me in the mornings. I never ignore my wake-up call.” He finally meets my eyes and I can see the skepticism in his gaze. “What?”

“You don’t strike me as the early bird type.”

“I’m not,” I say. “But I am the type to take my job damn seriously. I’ve never missed a call time in my life.”

He watches me for a long moment before he finally nods and takes a step back. “I’ll leave you to get ready then. When do you want to head down?”

I groan. “You donotneed to walk me down stairs.” He doesn’t respond, merely holds my gaze until I finally sigh. “Fine. I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

I slam the door before he can say anything else. I don’t know what it is about this guy that has me so easily agitated. I do not let myself get rattled by guys. I don’t let myself get rattled by anyone, really. But there’s something about John that has me constantly on edge. And flustered.

It’s pissing me off.

Since I showered last night, my morning routine goes quickly. I wash my face, brush my teeth, and throw on a clean pair of jeans. After precisely fifteen minutes have passed, there’s another knock on my door. I roll my eyes and grab my bag. This guy is seriously unbelievable.

Some of the annoyance goes out of me when I answer the door and see that he’s holding two white paper cups. He holds one out to me without a word.

“Thank you,” I mutter, and I think I catch him covering a smirk with his hand as I step out into the hallway with my bag.

“Figured you’d be less likely to bite my head off again if I brought a peace offering.”

“Caffeine is the surest way to bring out my sunny side.”

There’s a loud snort of laughter behind us and I turn to see Lance coming out of the room on the other side of mine. “What is this sunny side of which you speak and why have I never in my life seen it?”

I can’t help but tense up a little when I see him. The last thing I wanted was for any of my bandmates to see me with my new babysitter. But Lance is almost immediately distracted by Willa, who comes out of this room right behind him. She smiles when she sees me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Layla is always perfectly sunny with me.”