33. Kayla

Chapter 33

Kayla

After delays and a short layover in London, it took almost an entire day to fly to L.A.

Cameron picked me up from the airport while Ryan was at work, and I spent the rest of the day in bed, dozing on and off, while I waited for him to get home.

I’m used to flying between Geneva and Edinburgh, but I’ve never ventured this far, and the combination of jetlag and aeroplane lurgies has left me feeling bone tired. I’m only here for five days. Maybe adjusting to a new time zone isn’t even worth it.

Ryan got back late last night, and the hours passed in a blur of lazy sex, talking until he fell asleep, and me squirming half the night trying to shut my brain off. Now, with sunlight peeking through his thin curtains, and a helicopter hovering somewhere outside, I watch with one eye open as he dresses for work.

“I’m so sorry I have to go.”

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, for the hundredth time. I knew what I was letting myself in for. Being in the same room as him is enough, I think. Seeing him get dressed in khaki shorts and a loose fitted shirt is strange. It’s a totally different vibe to how he dresses in the mountains, but I like it all the same.

“I’ll be done as quickly as I can, and then I’m taking you out tonight. ”

“You are?”

“Absolutely. I booked a table for eight at a place I think you’ll love.”

The red dress I’ve hung in his closet will be perfect. I wasn’t sure if I’d get a chance to wear anything fancy, but I brought it just in case.

“Do you have plans today?” he asks.

“No, I might explore a little, catch up on some more sleep.”

He crouches beside me, freshly shaven and wearing that same cologne he sprays his postcards with. “I’m so fucking happy you’re here, Kayla. You have no idea how hard it is to drag myself away from you right now.”

“So stay,” I beg, reaching an arm out from underneath the blankets to pull at his clothes. “Bunk off with me.”

It’s not fair to ask, I know. I’d never ditch a work commitment for him. His mouth finds mine and his kisses taste like toothpaste. I probably taste, and look, like death.

“I wish I could. Did you make a wishlist for your time here?”

“I might have done, but I've scrapped it all for the idea of you tying me to this bedframe.”

I roll onto my back, stretch my arms above my head, and let the covers fall from my bare chest when I wrap my hands around the bars of his headboard. His eyes flare, and I keep mine locked on his, lick the length of my two middle fingers and slip them beneath the sheets.

“What are you doing?” he whines.

“What?” I shrug, feigning innocence. “If you’re not going to make me come, I guess I’ll have to do it myself.”

“Oh my god, you’re a fucking nightmare and a dream all rolled into one,” he says, walking backwards out of the room. “But Cam is out, so make all the noise you want, Bunny.”

It’s all for show. Once I hear the door close, I roll over and bury my face in his pillow, too tired to get myself there, anyway.

Ryan: I can’t stop thinking about you naked in my bed and how much I want to run home and fuck you.

Ryan: Makes me so happy knowing you’re close by

Ryan: Whatever you want tonight, it’s yours.

My phone rings as I’m adding the finishing touches to my hair and make-up. I never wear much more than sunscreen and mascara in the mountains, and it’s so nice to take my time and make an effort for once.

“Hi, are you almost back? I’m nearly ready.”

“Kayla, I’m so sorry.”

My heart sinks. I drop onto the end of his bed and try not to look too disappointed.

“We’re behind schedule here,” he continues. “I’m going as fast as I can, but I won’t be back in time for dinner.”

“It’s OK,” I tell him, slipping my shoes off. “I wouldn’t have lasted long in these heels, anyway.”

His face crumples, and he rubs at his eyes. “You look incredible, and I am such a dick. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Honestly, it’s fine.”

“I hate this, but I need to get back. I’ll be home as fast as I can, I promise.”

There’s a knock on Ryan’s bedroom door a few minutes later, and Cameron’s voice, full of pity, on the other side. “Hey Kayla, can I come in?”

His face lights up when he sees my dress and my hair. It took almost an hour to straighten it, and it was all for nothing.

“Oh, you look so nice.”

“Thanks. Unfortunately, Ryan won’t be back in time for dinner, so I’m about to change out of all this.”

“That’s why I’m here. I’m taking you out instead.”

“Oh God, no, you don’t have to do that.” My lip wobbles, and he steps closer, wrapping me in a big hug.

“I’m sorry, I know it fucking sucks,” he says, holding me tight. “But you came all this way, and he booked a table at Yvet. It would be a crime for you to go home without eating their grilled peach salad.”

“Honestly, it’s fine,” I sniff. “I feel wildly overdressed, anyway.”

“Nobody who says they're fine is every actually fine.” He releases me and gives my shoulders a friendly squeeze. “Please don’t cry. And do not take that dress off. You’re gonna fit right in. Give me fifteen minutes to shower and change, and then we’re going to eat everything on the menu on Ryan’s dime.”