Page 16 of Second Draft

“He’s Travis’ brother.” There it is. The big cosmic joke. I swear if there is a God, he’s somewhere up there having a good laugh at my expense. Or maybe this is my punishment for being the little slut my mom always accused me of.

There’s a long stretch of silence before Kira responds. “Oh, shit.”

Oh, shit is right.

“What are you going to do?”

“Nothing. Except move out.”

“But–”

“I can’t stay there any longer. Especially not when Carter is there too.”

“Carter?”

“Bar guy.”

“Right.” There’s a heavy breath on the other end. “You know I’d let you stay with us if there was room.”

“I know.” Kira moved into a bachelor apartment four months ago with her current boyfriend, Max. It’s the reason I had to find a new place, because I couldn’t afford the rent at the old one without her.

I’m happy for her though. The two of them are cute together, and the guy seems to genuinely care about her. Which is something.

It was Max who introduced me to Travis and suggested I move in with him. Travis was looking more for a maid than a roommate, but the rent was cheap, and it was the first time I’d actually lived in a house, and not some rundown apartment, since I’d run away from home seven years before.

Everything was good at first. Travis was easy to get along with, if I ignored his excessive drinking, smoking, and the rotating string of women he brought home.

I liked having a backyard to plant flowers, and a large kitchen to make meals. And to cook for someone who actually enjoyed the different recipes I tried.

Kira had always been so picky, preferring Kraft Dinner over the fancier meals I made, like Chicken Parmesan or Eggplant Lasagna.

I’d been warned that Travis was a playboy, but I’d moved in on roommate only terms. And I’d spent the last seven years running from temptation. I didn’t have any worries where he was concerned, because I never intended for anything to happen between us.

Travis, being Travis, had other ideas.

Two weeks into living with him, I knew I was in trouble. He was all over me. It started out as innocent flirting, but quickly escalated when he realized I wasn’t falling for his typical moves.

It wasn’t that I didn’t find him attractive. Travis is gorgeous in that California surfer boy way. Dimples, rock hard body, and a carefree charm that makes you wish you could spend your day lounging in the sun.

But he wasn’t my bar guy. The one who haunted my dreams, with his intense blue gaze, and soft full lips.

The one.

At least that’s what my overdramatic brain believed. And this is why little girls should never be read fairytales. Because they’re complete and utter rubbish.

“Layla?” Kira’s voice breaks through my thoughts.

“Sorry. I was just thinking.”

She sighs, but there’s only sympathy when she says, “You’re sure you want to go through with this?”

No. I’m not sure. I’m not sure about anything.

I blink back the tears that are blurring my vision. “I can’t get rid of it.”

“I know.” And she does. She’s one of the only people in this world that knows why I won’t have an abortion. Why I’d never survive. “I just meant that there are other options.”

Adoption. It’s something that crossed my mind. But the thought leaves a black hole burning in my chest.

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