“This is pretty,” Lyla says, burying a fry in her ketchup. The outside lights are on, and they reflect against the water. They also allow me to see her, and I can tell she’s completely relaxed with me now. I don’t know why that makes me feel good, but it does.
“It is,” I murmur, looking out over the water.
“Do you come here often?” she asks. I pull my gaze from the lake to look at Lyla.
I don’t know why the question strikes me as funny, but it does. It’s been a messed-up, fucking hell of a day, and just to see her looking at me with that smile, asking a silly, cheesy question that sounds like a pick-up line makes the pain from the day dull. It allows me to breathe in the night air and notice that it feels clean. Being with Lyla feels clean.
She looks confused when I shake my head. “Do you use that line on a g-guy a lot?” She stares at me for a minute, and then it hits her. She throws her head back in a genuine laugh and the sound reminds me of sunshine—warm and comforting. “I like you, Lyla,” I admit when the laughter recedes—not a sign of my stutter in sight.
“Same, Thomas,” she says, and then she surprises me. She curls into me, wrapping her arm around mine, her fingers pressing into my forearms. Then, she gently puts her head against me. The side of her face rests on my bicep. It feels good—really good—to just be like this. No words, no pressure, no demands… and no lies. “Are you going to be brave and try the milkshake?” she challenges me.
“If this s-sucks, I’m c-coming after y-you,” I joke.
“Oh, quit being a baby,” she giggles, straightening back up to hand me my shake as if to dare me. I take it, my gaze locked with hers. “I’m telling you, this is life changing, Thomas.”
“I c-could use a change,” I admit. “N-not sure a m-milksh-shake will do it.”
“Try it,” she says with a smirk.
I take a cautious sip and laugh as I shake my head.
“You like it,” she cries with way too much happiness.
“It’s okay,” I allow. It is actually really good, and that’s almost as surprising as this night has been.
“It freaking rocks, and you know it,” she grumbles good naturedly. “So why are you contemplating major changes?”
I shrug, the smile dying on my face almost instantly. “Family.”
“That I can understand,” she responds.
I scratch my forehead as I study her. “D-Doubtful.”
“You’d be surprised. I was actually supposed to visit my mom this week in Kentucky. My dad thinks I am.”
“Why aren’t y-you?”
“There were a lot of reasons, I guess. I mean, I did go there initially, but well, I guess it boils down to the fact that she didn’t really want me. Instead of telling Dad that, I decided to stay at school and let him believe I was in Pikeville.”
“Your mom there?”
“Yeah, for now,” she laughs, but there doesn’t seem to be a lot of humor in this laugh. “So, if you leave your family behind, where will you go?”
“Still fi-fig-guring that out,” I respond.
“You know what helps me think things through when I need to make decisions?”
A smile pulls at my lips, but I don’t let it show—or at least I try to make sure it doesn’t. “A m-milkshake?”
“Well, that and a double bacon cheeseburger.”
“You ordered a p-p-plain hambur-rger.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t. And it’s not plain. It has mayonnaise.”
“But—”
“Eat your burger, Kentucky boy,” she says, taking a bite from her own.
We eat, talking here and there. It doesn’t feel forced, and I find myself relaxing for the first time in weeks. To say it’s surprising is an understatement. The fact that I’m enjoying being with her, despite the fact that she looks like Gabby, is even more shocking. I know it’s just one night, but it feels good not being looked at like Dom’s little brother or Dragon West’s son. For the first time in my life, I’m just Thomas.
I have to say it feels damn good.
Chapter 15
Lyla
Two Weeks Later
I stare down at my phone when I feel it vibrate in my hand.
Thomas: I’ll bring the pizza.
Me: I’ll bring the milkshakes.
Thomas: Sunflower, you’re crazy. I’ll bring beer.
My lips curl in a smile and this warmth spreads through me.
Happiness. That’s what this is. It’s the kind of happy I’ve never experienced before. Don’t get me wrong. I have a good life and a great family. My mom may kind of suck—not that I would admit that to my father—but my father has always been good to me. The club has always watched over me and did it in a way where I didn’t feel like a responsibility. I felt like they really cared. It was just… lonely. There are no other kids in the club. Dad’s men don’t do happily ever after that I’ve seen. That’s why I’ve always had a clear plan to never, and I mean never, get involved with a biker.