Page 64 of Layla

The door next to us opens, Layla’s curious face appearing. “I heard—” She takes in our positions, her eyes widening. “What the hell?”

Conner takes advantage of my surprise by pushing me off. “This guy is an asshole,” he says, pointing at me. “Seriously, dude. Touch me again and I’ll get the label on you. I don’t have to put up with this shit.”

“Get. Out. Of. Here.” I manage through gritted teeth. He shoots one last pissed off look towards Layla, shaking his head, and then turns down the hall. I watch his retreating back until he turns a corner. Only then do I look at her.

I almost wish I didn’t. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look this angry.

“What thefuck, John?”

“He was being an asshole,” I say quickly, knowing how lame I sound.

“You’re listening outside my door now?”

“It wasn’t like—”

“I cannot believe you put your hands on him.” She shakes her head, gaping at me. “What is wrong with you?”

I’m completely losing my fucking mind over you.But I can’t tell her that so I stick to a version of the truth. “He was being an asshole. Saying shit about you.”

She throws up her hands. “Of course he was! I had just turned him down, he was pissed.”

I get caught on the words “turned him down,” a hot rush of relief washing through me. I had figured as much when he left her room after a mere ten minutes, but I wouldn’t put it past the ass to be that pathetic in bed.

She must see the relief on my face because her expression hardens before she turns back to her door. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Layla—”

She spins, that purple hair I loved touching last night whipping around her, eyes lit with anger. “You’re an asshole, do you know that?”

I close my eyes. “Yes.”

Her hands come out to shove my chest, pushing hard. “You kiss me then act like it’s the worst mistake you’ve ever made—”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Then you make me feel shitty about hanging out with another guy—which you have no right to do, by the way.”

I take a step closer, the anger I’d been trying to clamp down on since her door shut rising up in my chest. “I don’t have a right?”

Her eyes are flashing. “No. You don’t. You gave up that right when you treated me like a dirty secret this morning.”

“You think this is easy?” I snap back. “You think I want to feel like this?”

Her cheeks flame red. “I’m so sorry to be such an inconvenience to you.”

Fuck. “That’s not what—”

She holds up a hand to silence me and I can see that it’s shaking. She’s upset and even though that’s completely my fault, the instinct to pull her into my arms and try to make it better is so strong I can barely stand it.

“I’m going to Haylee’s room,” she says. “You’re not following me.”

“Wait.”

“No!” Her anger makes her breath heavy, her cheeks red. God, she’s gorgeous, even pissed at me. So gorgeous it makes my chest ache. “I’m going to Haylee’s room because I don’t want to sleep within twenty feet of you. You can send someone else down there to prowl around the hallway like a stalker if you want to, but if I see you anywhere near her room, I’ll be the one calling the label and telling them to fire you.”

That pulls me up short. “That’s what you want? You want me gone?”

For just a second the anger in her eyes slips, revealing something that looks a lot more like pain. “It doesn’t matter what I want, does it?”