He’s right, that was our deal when the three of us sat down to discuss our future.
“My parents will never approve of my dating Layla,” I voice my biggest worry.
“Since when do you care about their approval?” Lake challenges me.
He has always been able to see right through Mason and me.
“There are so many reasons why not to date her,” I admit. “For one, she’s Stephanie’s daughter. Stephanie will have my balls on a golden platter if I hurt her daughter. Let’s also not forget she knows every single thing about us and CRC. I’d be stupid to screw with that.”
“Stephanie is a professional, Falcon.”
“Layla will become a target. What happened with Grayson will only be the beginning.”
“We’ll protect her,” Lake replies to my worry.
“Who says she’ll want to date me anyway?” I begin to scramble for reasons.
“Yeah, you have a point. You’ve been a bastard the past week. Please, stop with the coffee orders. Mason and I can’t drink much more of it.”
A smile begins to form around my mouth, but then Lake says, “Do you like her that much?”
I’ve asked myself the same question so many times since Layla fell asleep in my arms and the answer is the same every single time. “Yes.”
“Then you should give a relationship with her a chance, Falcon. Don’t let her slip through your fingers.”
I nod, knowing it will be something I’ll regret if I let her go.
“But first you’ll have to grovel. Flowers, chocolates, cruises, Tiffany & Co.” I nod harder and begin to chuckle when he adds, “She’s a good match for you. She won’t take your shit.”
“Like you?” I ask, pulling him closer for a brotherly hug.
“Yeah, and seeing as I’m already taken, she will have to do,” he jokes.Somehow, we get to the hall before Layla and Kingsley, even though they left a good ten minutes before us.
We join Mason at our designated table. I unbutton my jacket before taking my seat, then let my eyes scan over the tables again.
“Who are you looking for?” Mason asks, looking bored out of his mind.
“No one,” I answer, and reaching for the tumbler in front of Mason, I bring it to my face and sniff. “Whiskey?” I set it down again and lean back in my chair.
“Yes, or I’ll kill someone.” His eyes go to where West is sitting.
“If it’s that hard for you I’ll ask him to leave,” I offer.
Mason shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink before saying, “I just hate seeing him breathing.” A coldblooded look hardens his features. “The fucker got away with murder.”
Lake and I have tried talking to Mason about the accident his sister died in. Logically, it was an accident. It was snowing heavily the night Jennifer lost control of her car and collided with a tree. West also lost control over his car and crashed into the back of Jennifer’s car.
Mason knows this deep down because he was in the car with her when it happened, but the loss was too much and way too sudden. Hating West is Mason’s way of coping because he’s definitely not dealing with losing Jennifer.
“Excuse me,” one of the freshmen says, drawing our attention away from West. “Lake, Mason, I noticed you haven’t chosen your assistants yet, and I would like to hand in my application for the position. If that’s okay, of course.”
Mason stands up and taking the half-empty tumbler, he starts to walk toward the balcony. “There’s no way in hell I’m subjecting myself to that level of torture. He’s all yours, Lake.”
At first, the freshman looks like a regular nerd, but when I take a closer look, I see the intelligence in his eyes.
I’d bet my shares this guy is the genius we accepted.
“What’s your name?” I ask, and gesture toward an empty chair for him to sit.
“Really?” He rests a hand on the back of the chair, waiting, and when I nod, he quickly sits down. “Thank you. I’m Preston Culpepper. It’s such an honor to study at Trinity. Thank you for accepting me.”
“You’re studying Economics, right?” I ask, and leaning back in my chair, I smile at Preston.
“You know what I’m studying?” Preston asks, looking shocked.
“Yes, but not the reason why.”
Lake leans his elbows on the table. “Guys, not to interrupt your budding romance, but I’m the one who needs an assistant.” A mischievous smile forms around his lips. “Then again, I could take Layla, and you can have Preston. I don’t mind switching.”
“Preston, you’re Lake’s assistant. Congratulations,” I say quickly because there’s no way I’m giving up Layla.
“Are you guys joking right now?” Preston asks, an unsure look pinching his eyebrows together.
Lake holds his hand out to Preston, who cautiously takes it. “You start tomorrow.”
“I got the position?” Preston’s entire face transforms from unsure if we’re screwing with him to looking like he’s about to cry from total elation. “Thank you so much. I’ll do my best.”