Page 21 of Whiskey and Honey (Empire Records 1)

I want to get her out of here. Spend time just the two of us. Talk about that fucking ridiculous idea of being just friends. I slowly pull away, dragging my hand across her thigh on my way, then I walk slowly around the back, trying to get ahold of myself to drive us home.

The ride back is comfortable and filled with her telling me all her ideas for the different sites and I find myself in awe. She’s brilliant and I agree with everything, I hadn’t thought about a couple of her ideas that I think will be real game changers for my company brand. She goes on and on with so much excitement I can’t help but hang on her every word. We talk shop all the way home and well into night.

For dinner she made steak with roasted carrots in some kind of fancy sauce that was mind-blowing. Marcus just walked in and sat down with a plate, looking exhausted.

“Long day, buddy?” she asks him sympathetically.

“Sure feels like it, but I’m actually home for dinner so I guess it was an early day per norm,” he tells her, rubbing his hands down his face then taking a bite. He starts making moaning noises and nodding his head energetically. “Lyla, this is amazing. Thank you for dinner. You’re a way better roommate than Cole.”

I spit out a loud laugh. Shaking my head, I stand and gather my plate and grab hers and take them to the dishwasher. I clean up the kitchen while they talk, and when I’ve put the last of the leftover containers away, Lyla comes up behind me.

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much. You didn’t have to do this; I would have.”

“I don’t mind. You didn’t have to make all that amazing food or let me eat any of it, but you did so this is the least I can do.”

“Hey, anytime. I think I’m starting to like cooking again. It used to rule my life, and I wasn’t so sure for a while there if I would ever enjoy it again, but lately it’s been fun,” she says with a pointed smile. I see something in her eyes, but it’s gone too fast to figure it out. She turns and grabs the whiskey, looking back over her shoulder at me. “Care to join us for a drink?”

Her smile is revealing. She’s thinking about the last time we drank whiskey together and now so am I. I can see the fire burning, her eyes darkening, and all I can do is nod and follow her. I adjust myself before Marcus can notice, and Lyla pours us all a drink and we celebrate our new “friendships”—her words not mine—for hours. Half the bottle of whiskey later, the three of us have overshared drunken college stories, and I was blessed with embarrassing moments of teenage Marcus and Lyla and even learned a little more about Charlie since they all grew up together. All in all it’s been a great night. We finally waddle up to our bedrooms and collapse into bed. I know that’s exactly what I did, my California king never feeling so inviting. Feeling drunk, I thought sleep would come easy, but I toss and turn.

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