Page 70 of So This Is Love

I count through the bills I need and stuff them into the receipt holder. I stand and grab my purse.

“You don’t get a trophy for doing the bare minimum,” I say before turning on my heel and leaving.

24

Sonny

I had surely passedwhatever socially acceptable time there was to watch someone as they slept but I don’t give a damn. She looks peaceful, her beautiful face calm and relaxed as she sleeps.

Before Laila, I didn’t know I could be so addicted to someone’s presence. It had been like this before when we were just friends, when we hadn’t crossed the line in the sand that she had drawn all those months ago. But now that she was mine? That feeling has only amplified and when she isn’t around I want her to be.

I’m not sure why my body refuses to rest after staying up late going round after round, lost in Laila, but after only a couple hours I’m wide awake. The clock on my nightstand tells me that I only have about an hour until I’m supposed to get up to meet the guys to play ball. I already turned off the alarm I had set when I realized that no amount of counting sheep, or pretending to sleep, would actually help me to fall back asleep.

Laila shifts in her sleep, going from her head resting on my chest to lying on her other side facing away from me. I take this as my opportunity to get up. I know that the chances of meunintentionally waking her up continue to increase the longer I lie in the bed awake next to her. I ease out of the bed and walk out to the living room. I don’t bother to turn on any lights and instead let the moonlight and my knowledge of my place guide me to my piano. It is far too late, or early depending on how you think about it, to play anything but working on lyrics felt better in front of my piano than anywhere else.

I grab my journal and my pair of over ear headphones to listen to the beats and lose myself in the words. I’m so absorbed in what I’m doing that I don’t notice Laila until she’s sliding onto the piano bench next to me.

I pull the headphones off and place them on the little table next to my piano.

“Hey you,” Laila murmurs.

I place a small kiss on her lips. “Hey yourself. I didn’t wake you did I?”

“No, I have a hair appointment in a little bit so I had an alarm set,” Laila says, yawning. “What are you working on?”

“I was working through a new song and then I have a meeting with Morgan after I get back from the gym to talk about all the promo and events she thinks I should do before the release of the album.”

“Ooo fun. Is there anything solidified yet?”

“We’ve started doing a schedule for social media posts, there's a couple interviews and she also wants me to have an album release party. We’ve also started planning some small events, pop ups in different cities, but for small groups to listen to some songs.

“I think those are all great ideas. You’ve talked about wanting to really connect with your audience and show them more of who you are and all of that will definitely help accomplish that.”

I smile. “I agree, all of this has definitely been a labor of love, but I think I might actually like the result once it’s all said and done.”

Laila wraps her arms around my neck and places a kiss on my cheek. “I know you will.”

I wrap one arm around her waist and pull her onto my lap so she’s straddling me. One of Laila’s hands travels down my bare chest and rests right above my heart. In my attempt to not wake her I didn’t grab a shirt to put on.

“Do these have a meaning?” Laila asks, her eyes still focused on the ink.

Her fingers are lightly running over the tattoo on the left of my chest. The only ink on my body, because nothing else has made me feel strong enough to want to have it on me for forever.

Two lines of six numbers, small and simple, exactly how I wanted it.

Laila’s eyes are focused on watching her finger as she traces the numbers but I still look at her as I respond.

“They’re dates that had a significant impact on me. The first one is April 17, 2019. The day my dad died.”

Laila’s fingers stop moving and she snaps her head up to look at me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

I shake my head. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“And the other one is -”

“October 22, 2020,” Laila interjects.

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