He unpacked the food and opened the wine, pouring a glass for each of them. He knew which wineglasses were her favorite and he knew which cupboard she kept them in.
Layla knew a lot about him, too. She knew that sometimes, instead of wine, he wanted a Hendrick’s gin and tonic or a craft beer. He preferred pot stickers over egg rolls with his beef and broccoli, and he was severely allergic to shellfish. He was baffled by anyone who wore socks to bed, which she had vehemently defended as completely normal and in her case necessary. “I can’t help it that my feet are like little blocks of ice,” she’d said. Most of these getting-to-know-each-other-better revelations took place on the phone. In addition to the daytime texting, there were actual conversations at night. Josh usually hated talking on the phone, but he could spend an hour chatting with Layla after Sasha was in bed.
“Takeout, wine, and a concert,” he clarified.
Her forehead creased. “Who’s playing?”
“You,” he said.
Her eyes grew wide. “Excuse me?”
“I was really hoping you’d be in the mood for a basement concert for one,” he said. “I thought maybe I could sit on your couch instead of watching you through the window like some neighborhood weirdo.”
“You’re the reason I bought the curtains.”
He laughed. “I said I was sorry.”
She took a drink of her wine and then they carried their plates to the kitchen table and sat down. “Yes, I will play for you,” she said. “But mostly because you brought wine and one of my favorite meals.”
“Mostly? What’s the rest of the reason?”
“I just feel like playing.”
* * *
After they finished eating, Josh topped off their wine and they headed down to the basement, Norton in tow.
“What can you play?” he asked.
“I can play everything,” she said as if it were just that easy for her. Maybe it was.
“How about starting with ‘Let It Be’?” He sat down on the couch. Norton jumped up next to him and laid his head on Josh’s leg.
“Sure. But it won’t be the same without the kids.”
“Try and muddle through.”
She grabbed an acoustic guitar and settled herself on the stool in the center of the room. She sounded incredible, that was a given, but there was something so intimately sexy about a woman singing a song just for him and he found it as alluring as foreplay.
“That was really good,” he said when she finished. “You don’t need those kids.” He hesitated for a moment, but then he decided to say what he’d been thinking. “Did you and your ex-husband ever talk about having a child?”
“Yes.”
“Was that something you wanted?”
“I had reservations, but Liam wanted one.”
She picked up the guitar again and started strumming. He requested several songs—all of which she could play—and then she ended the private set with “Ironic” by Alanis Morissette. It made her laugh for some reason.
He met the end of each song with his hearty applause. “Are you tired of my voice yet?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Nope. I could sit on this couch for hours listening to you play. But you don’t have to keep playing if you don’t want to. This concert has been well worth the price of admission.”
“Gotten your money’s worth, have you?” she teased.
“And then some,” he said.
“Is this the part where you tell me you’ve got a great voice and you’d like to join in, and we absolutely smash a duet?” she asked.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I am mediocre at best when it comes to singing.”
She traded the acoustic for the Craigslist guitar and plugged it into an amp. “I’ll play one more, and I’m going to turn this down so your eardrums won’t bleed,” she said. Layla had mentioned that she hadn’t been so kind to her own ears in the past and would probably need hearing aids in her old age.
She played the opening notes of “Magic Man” and he cheered. There was something almost animalistic about the way she sang the song. And a woman playing electric guitar and singing to you was just straight-up sexy, no two ways about it.
“This concludes the concert for one,” she said as she set the guitar back in its stand. She switched on some music, leaving it low in the background, and sat down beside him on the couch. She was flushed and breathing a little heavy and so utterly desirable to him that he wasn’t sure he could resist her for much longer.
And no real reason that he should.
“That was absolutely fantastic. Thank you,” he said.
“Anytime.” It had been a good long while since a woman had looked at Josh the way Layla was looking at him. He liked that she was one hundred percent present and focused, because he knew what it felt like when the woman beside you was more interested in strangers on the internet than she was in you.
It wasn’t fair of him to compare the two scenarios. He and Kimmy had been together for years; he and Layla were still on their best behavior. There were no distractions, no pressing concerns or decisions they had to make together.
There was just wine and music and the growing thrill of physical attraction.
Layla took a sip of her wine and sank further back into the cushions of the couch. “Comfortable?” he asked.
“Very. Playing relaxes me. Or maybe it’s just the wine. What about you? Are you comfortable?”
Norton’s big head was pressing down on his leg and Josh was pretty sure Norton had slobbered on him at some point because there was a spot on his jeans that felt a little damp, but all he said was “Definitely comfortable.”
Something needed to happen. Either he took this to the next level and hoped it was received in a positive way or he needed to interrupt the moment by going upstairs to refill their wine or pretend that Norton needed to pee.
He chose not to go upstairs, and his hand was halfway to her face so he could bring her mouth to his when his phone rang. He hesitated for a split second and then pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the display.
Layla might have been the one he talked to on the phone voluntarily, but Kimmy was the one whose calls he would always take, because she only called when they had something immediate to hash out that was too long to go into over text, or there was a problem with Sasha.
“Hey, is everything okay?” he asked.
“Sasha is really sick. I can’t get her fever down and she’s screaming in pain and I’m really scared. There are no urgent care clinics open so I’m taking her to the ER.”
“Meet you there,” Josh said, and he filled Layla in on their way upstairs, asking her if she could keep Norton overnight if it came to that.
“Of course,” she said. “Go.”
* * *