Finding Love's Wings (38 page)

I watch as Layla steels herself and takes a half step forward. Sasha isn't having that; she moves in our direction. I put my hand up to tell her to stay put. I can tell by Layla's body language that we're not going to get physical.
 

I hear a couple of heavy footsteps behind me and Mike comes into my peripheral vision. Layla's eyes go wide as she realizes that there are not one but two bodyguards in the room.
 

"Who are you?" she asks, surprise evident in her voice.

"Someone you should learn to play nice with because fucking with me will only damage what little chance you have left in Hollywood." I pull in a long breath. "Your little stunt yesterday with the fire is a true credit to the type of person you really are." I pause for a second, but she doesn't deny it. Rage flashes in me again. "Not to mention the fact that the alcohol on your breath tells me that you have no respect for yourself or for the unborn child you're carrying. Unless you were lying to smooth things out with Tristan."
 

She retreats a couple of steps.
 

"What were you expecting, Layla, that he would fall to his knees with open arms for you?" I look over at Sasha, whose mouth is slack with surprise at my speech.
 

Layla has turned white as a ghost. "He's here. I knew it!" she exclaims. Of all the things to pull from what I'm yelling at her about, she decides to jump to the conclusion that Tristan is here.
 

"What the hell are you talking about?" I snap back.

Her eyes dart from me to Mike to the door and back again. "Tristan. He's here, isn't he."

"Hell no, he's not here."
 

"Then how do you know all of that? About me?" Her voice is mousy and weak.

"Because I am privy to all of my clients’ most personal and private details, whether he wishes to share or not."

"You're not his lawyer."

I laugh. "You're really dense, aren't you." She scowls at me. "Did you see his press release yesterday?" She just nods. "I wrote that press release. Tristan is one of my company’s biggest clients. So yes, Layla, I am fully aware of all your little stunts, and I do have the power to destroy you. So be a good little girl and go back downstairs. You're not welcome here." I take a step back and Sasha visibly relaxes.
 

"I—" She stutters a little. "I never meant to hurt him." Her voice is still small and weak. "Please," she says, "if you talk to him, I really need to speak to him."

My heart lurches at her expression and anger washes over me.

"Don't hold your breath. I'm pretty sure the two of you have nothing to discuss." I turn to Mike. "See to it that she leaves my suite and returns to her own." He nods and I move toward the door to the sitting room.
 

"I'm not pregnant," she says behind me, and my rage fires again.

"Bloody hell! What do you mean, you're not pregnant?" I ask without turning around.
 

"I—"

"Please do not tell me that you had an abortion, because you will win no points with me," I say through clenched teeth.

"No. When I told Tristan I was pregnant, I only thought that I was."

"Oh, now that’s great. You knew that was the one thing that could possibly get Tristan to his knees and you used it against him." I turn slowly, rage seething in my veins. "That was a low blow, Layla, and you know it." My voice is strained as I fight for control of my anger. I want so badly to hit her, or at the very least make her cry. "You are an insensitive, selfish bitch. What in the world would possess you to do something like that?"

"I—I don't know. I was scared. I didn't want to lose Tristan."

I shake my head. "No, Layla, you didn't want to lose your supposed career. But what you really need is help. Professional help. You are not cut out for Hollywood. You're too caught up in yourself, drinking, and drugs, and that combination will only do one of two things. It will get you kicked out of Hollywood or get you killed."
 

She slumps in defeat. No doubt this is the last thing she expected to have happen when she came up here tonight.
 

I get in her face again, and Mike and Sasha are instantly at my side. Tears are forming in Layla's eyes. Her pitiful look makes me want to smack her and wake her up to the reality she has created for herself. "Hollywood is no place for little girls," I rage. "Get your shit together and get out of my suite."
 

I turn, and walk toward the door. To no one in particular, I say, "Get her out of my suite."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Get her out of my suite."
 

I can tell from her voice that she's angry, which matches my own sentiments regarding Layla right now.
 

She's not pregnant. God dammit, it really was a ruse to get back at me. She knew that would be the one thing that would make me crumble to my knees.
 

"Jesus, she's manipulative" I mutter to myself.
 

On the plus side, the news that Layla isn't pregnant is a huge relief. I'd felt guilty that Layla was facing a pregnancy alone with all her issues. I don't think that's something any woman should have to go through alone. And I was worried about the long-term effects of being a single parent on top of her other issues. Any child deserves love and affection, and I'm beginning to believe Layla isn't capable of providing either.
 

I'm completely blown away by what Cami's just said to Layla. I'm not thrilled with the idea that she revealed to her that she knows more about Layla than maybe she should, but at least Layla still doesn't know who she is. For now. I suppose over the coming days and weeks it will quickly become a well-known fact as to who Cami is, and Layla, if she is paying any attention at all, will quickly put two and two together. Oh to be a fly on the wall when Layla sees the pictures from New York next week. She'll know I was here, and that will chafe her hide more than anything. Though I wouldn't say I want revenge on Layla, per se, it would be nice to watch her squirm just a little bit.
 

I hear the door open and close, and instantly all my angst about Layla washes away like the tide of the ocean. I'm hiding around the corner, and I can't see her, but I can hear her heels clicking against the hallway tile. As she passes I slip behind her, grab her by the arm, and spin her around. She squeals and smiles as she lands in my arms.

"Hello, beautiful."
 

She blushes and a big smile spreads across her face. "Hello beautiful yourself."
 

I lean in and lick the bottom of her earlobe, and she lets out a breathy chuckle in my ear. "Behave," she breathes, but I can't help but nibble a little at the lobe because I know it will drive her nuts.
 

"Kiss me," she says and I happily oblige.
 

The sensation of our lips touching sends shivers down my spine and straight into the erection I've been fighting. Kissing Cami is like nothing I have ever felt before. Each contact, each stroke, each sensual touch is like an electric shock through my entire body, straight into my heart. Each shock stranger than the one before.
 

I pull back ever so slightly. Her lips follow mine, not wanting to lose the contact between us.
 

"You are possibly the bravest woman I know. I'm in awe of you, Cami."

We stare deeply into each other’s eyes for endless minutes, communicating wordlessly, and I realize that my life will never be the same. Regardless of how our relationship plays out we will always be a part of one another. Imagining Cami as anything other than my other half twists my stomach into an uncontrollable knot.

"Thank you," I whisper, and her eyes never leave mine but I can see the puzzled expression cross her face. Rather than wait for her question, I say to her, "Thank you for what you did in there, with Layla."
 

"You were listening?" The shock is not lost on me.
 

"If it hadn't been for Tyson I would have been through that door in a nanosecond. I wasn't going to allow her to talk to you like that. When she told you about the pregnancy, Tyson actually had to hold me back from charging the door. I was so angry with her. One, for lying, and two, for the fact that she has some real nerve inviting herself up here. It just proves to me how unstable she is and incapable of respecting anyone." I take a deep breath. "I'm finally beginning to see all of her games and regret the fact that I have spent the last five years with her."

She wraps her arms tighter around me. Without breaking eye contact she whispers, "Never regret the things you do in life, Tristan. Layla is the one that will suffer in the long run from all this nonsense. She doesn't deserve what a wonderful man you are, and what you are capable of." She pauses. "Neither do I for that matter."
 

For the first time in the last few minutes she drops her eyes from mine and lowers her head. I try to let her words sink in. Try hard to understand why she would say such a thing. She certainly deserves to be loved by a great person. Why in the world would she think otherwise?
 

"I don't deserve you, Tristan." I can hear the pain in her voice.

"Cameron Enders, what on God’s green earth makes you say such things?"
 

"Tristan, I—" She is fighting for the words. "I don't know love. I don't know what it feels like to love another or be loved by someone. I'm scared."

My heart lurches and my stomach twists. "Then let me show you," is all I can say, and her eyes, full of unshed tears, open wide to look deep into my own. "Please, Cami, don't cry. Let me show you."
 

"I don't know how," she breathes. Her unshed tears threaten to fall down her cheeks.

"There is nothing to know. It just comes naturally. You'll see, I promise." I plead with my eyes.
 

"I'll try. I will try, Tristan."

"That's all I'm asking."

We're interrupted by Beau, who calls to us from the patio. "Come on, you two. Let's go swimming."
 

"We'll be right there." I speak up so that Cami can try and compose herself without answering.

"Are you guys okay?" Beau asks, her voice getting quieter and closer.
 

"We're fine, Beau. Give us a minute?"

"Sure." She walks away.
 

I look back up at Cami. "Are you all right?" I ask. She nods her reply. "Can we continue this conversation later?"

"Yes," she breathes. "I didn't mean to cry."

"Shh. Please, Cami, it's okay. Never be afraid. Please?" I bring my hands to her face. "I'm not going anywhere," I say with emphasis on each word, and as I say them, their truth becomes evident.

"I'm trying, and I will continue to try."
 

For the moment, it's enough. I have patience to wait for the rest to follow.

I start to kiss her, softly, but her hands quickly find my hair and she pulls me into her. My answering kiss is hard and insistent, my desire for her building with each second. I want her right here, right now, and nothing's going to stand in my way.
 

"You do know that there are four bedrooms in this suite, right?"
 

Dammit, Travis!

PART THIRTY-SIX

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Can I use your bed?" Tristan asks Travis, and I blush from head to toe.

"Hell no. You have your own room. Unless of course you're planning on sharing."
 

I stiffen and giggle nervously. Is he joking?

"That might not be a bad idea," Tristan says, and I go still. Travis immediately notices my discomfort and lets out a low chuckle.
 

"But you have to bring Naomi along too," Tristan says. "You can't be the only one having all the fun." I smack Tristan on the shoulder. "Ouch!" he exclaims, then busts out laughing.
 

Oh thank God he's joking.

"I'm thinking Cami disagrees with our idea."
 

I scowl at him, then decide to tease him back. "I think that Naomi is rather straight, boys. Get Beau, then we can talk."
 

"What about Mick?" Tristan asks.
 

I giggle. "I'm pretty sure he wouldn't mind joining the party."

Tristan gazes at me, the expression in his eyes a mixture of playfulness and concern. I wink at him, and the concern vanishes.

"Why don't we all get naked and skinny dip?" Tristan says.
 

Now it's Travis's turn to look a bit nervous, but there's some excitement in his eyes too.

"Sure," I say. "Then we can have a penis contest."
 

I burst out laughing because Travis is doing a perfect impression of a cartoon character whose eyes are bugging out of his head.
 

"I'll go get the girls, and you can grab the guys and get naked. We'll climb on the couch and judge." I start walking toward the patio but don't get very far before Tristan scoops me up. I squeal and laugh out loud.
 

"Oh, no you don't," Tristan says. "There will be no penis viewing for you!" The smile on his face practically lights up the room. He carries me toward the patio doors.

I cross my arms. "Hmph. Talk about spoiling a girl’s fun." I give him my best mock pout.

As Tristan crosses the threshold onto the patio he takes off my shoes. "You don't need those."
 

Everyone else is already outside, and before Tristan or Travis can ruin my fun, I blurt out to Beau, Jolene, and Naomi, "The boys want to have a penis contest."

Beau raises her eyebrow at me, a move I am certain I taught her. "A penis contest, eh?"

I proceed to burst into a fit of laughter that has me nearly in tears. "It sure as hell wouldn't be a boob contest." I look very pointedly at Beau because she's clearly the biggest chested in the group. I squirm to get Tristan to put me down, but he holds on. "Why don't we all just grab our suits and go swimming?" I ask.