“Do you know what Brian and I need to really round out our act? A backup dancer. Come on,” Layla said, laughing. “It’s your time to shine.”
“Be careful what you wish for. One more glass of wine and I’ll probably do it.”
* * *
When the night was over and Josh drove them back to Layla’s house, she was still flying high on the adrenaline of a successful performance. Josh killed the engine and followed Layla to the front door. He’d brought Norton with him, so the first thing they did was rouse the sleeping dog and let him out in the backyard to do his business. Then either Josh would kiss her good night and head home with Norton or they’d both stay. Norton ambled back through the sliding glass door and flopped down in his bed again, and Josh answered Layla’s unspoken musing with his mouth when he pressed it against hers. They stood in the kitchen making out in the dark, and then Josh nudged her toward the hallway, where she slipped her hand into his palm and led him to her bedroom. They fell onto the bed, and Josh twisted his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back to reveal the length of her neck, which he nibbled and sucked, eliciting a loud moan from Layla.
He tugged her shirt from the waistband of her jeans, and they quickly helped each other out of their clothes. Josh explored every inch of her with his hands and his mouth, like someone who’d been waiting a long time to unleash the pent-up passion he let rain down on Layla. It had felt like forever since she’d been intimate with anyone, and the last few times she and Liam had been together had seemed more like an obligation on both their parts. Now Layla touched Josh’s body with a similar urgency, running her hands down his chest and lower, skimming across his stomach, enjoying the way his breathing grew ragged and how it seemed like he was barely maintaining control. It was a big step for them, but Layla told herself that it didn’t have to mean anything; it could simply be something she wanted to do because she felt safe and it felt good and it had been a while.
When it was over, their movements slowed, became less frantic, gentler, and she felt the first wave of pure relaxation wash over her. Josh got up to take Norton out and when he slid back underneath the covers, he wrapped his arms around her and she could not think of a single place she’d rather be than right where she was.
chapter 42
Layla
The next morning, Layla brought Josh a cup of coffee in bed. He sat up and she handed it to him and snuggled back under the covers with her own cup. It was snowing hard, which didn’t bother her at all, because it was cozy and warm inside and neither of them had anyplace they needed to be.
They were still in bed and were on their second cups of coffee when Layla’s phone rang, and GUITAR SHOP BRIAN flashed on the screen.
“Hey,” Layla said. Maybe they’d left something behind last night or someone had reached out to book them for another show.
“Brace yourself,” he said.
She sat up so fast she splashed a bit of coffee on her white comforter. “Damn,” she said, blotting at the stain with the hem of the long T-shirt she’d thrown on to make coffee. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it’s good news, Layla. It’s phenomenal news.”
She could handle a coffee stain for phenomenal news. “What?” she yelled. “Tell me.”
“Our little song has had a very big development.” Their daily average for downloads was now around three thousand, which sounded like a lot but really wasn’t. Not in such a crowded marketplace full of infinite choices.
Tiny fish, big huge pond.
“Because we played it last night?” she asked. “Don’t get me wrong, it was a good-sized crowd, but I didn’t think it would be enough to make a difference.”
“No, not because of last night. We showed up on a playlist, Layla.”
“No way,” she said. She knew immediately that Brian wasn’t talking about a user-created playlist. What he meant was that they’d landed on one of the algorithm-driven playlists that matched song and listener data. It was a serendipitous event completely out of their control, and it was the holy grail of good luck for independent artists hoping to stand out.
“Yep. I can’t believe it, either.”
“How many downloads?” she asked.
“Fifty thousand.”
“Holy shit.”
“We might actually make some money, which I desperately need because the guitar shop is barely operating in the black.”
Layla hadn’t thought much about their income potential; she thought it was cool that they’d made back their operating costs and that a little money had started trickling in.
“I’ll track everything. Prepare for hourly updates.”
Brian was much more interested in the analytics than Layla was. He kept a spreadsheet and he tracked their downloads, and the data geek inside him would be busy in the coming weeks.
“Keep me posted,” Layla said.
“Sounds like Brian had some very good news to share this morning,” Josh said.
“The best kind.” Layla brought Josh up to speed and answered his follow-up questions.
“Maybe you’re getting a second chance to do the thing you weren’t quite ready to stop doing,” he said.
“Yeah,” she said, laying her head on Josh’s chest when he put his arms around her and pulled her in close. “Maybe I am.”
* * *
They might have stayed in bed a little longer, but Josh’s stomach growled, so they got up and made a huge breakfast of bacon and eggs and toast, and it felt like they’d been making breakfast side by side for years. There was something about it that just felt so easy to Layla, and she practically danced around the kitchen, still flying high from the news Brian had delivered and a morning made even sweeter by what she and Josh had done the night before and once more around 3:00 A.M.
She could do these things now if she wanted. She could have a second chance at a music career, and she could have a man in her bed and that same man in her kitchen the next morning, and she did not have to answer to anyone. She looked at Josh standing at the stove pushing the eggs around in the skillet as she turned the bacon and she thought that maybe she would enjoy doing this on regular basis.
After breakfast, Josh headed home. He was helping one of his brothers with some sort of home-improvement project, and he told Layla he’d call her later. She poured another cup of coffee and sat down on the couch. She didn’t turn on the TV or reach for a magazine or book. She watched the snow falling outside the living room window and savored the absolute joy and peace she felt within the four walls of the small house that Liam would have absolutely hated.
* * *