His Sweet Revenge

Chapter 27.

(Slight trigger warning?)

I quickly grab the washcloth from the counter and throw it away before Nate sees the little bit of blood on it and starts a whole interrogation.

"Mom said you weren't going to be back until Friday."

When I turn around, Nate crosses his arms, looking at me weirdly. "Grace had to return to work early, so I took the next flight out. I thought I may as well spend the fourth with my family."

"Oh."

"Where is everybody? Mom told me Aunt Leah and Uncle Dom finally arrived this morning."

I start cleaning up the kitchen, desperately wanting to avoid this interaction. "At the drive-in. They're playing Casablanca tonight."

"And you're here? ... With Grayson? ... Alone?" He pauses after every part, his brotherly gaze on.

"Yeah." He's putting me on the spot, and I can't think of a good enough lie that quick.

"Seriously? Liam didn't cut it? You had to go after the serial killer's son?"

"What?" I ask, placing a fork into the sink. "We're just friends, Nate. It's not that big of a deal."

He scoffs. "Do friends look flushed when someone else walks into the room? I wasn't born yesterday, Layla."

I walk up to him. "It's not what you think. Can you please stay out of it?"

"You should stay away from him. Trust me. He's not the kind of guy you want to be around."

"Thanks for the advice. But you're severely misreading this. Nothing is going on."

Nate sighs. "If you say so."

He walks back towards the front of the house, and I exhale a breath of relief. The last thing I need is Nate bringing this up to our mom and Hale when Grayson and I don't even know what the hell this is.

I realize I should probably beat it back to the drive-in before anyone starts to wonder where I've gone.

— — —

It's midnight. Exactly midnight. I should be sleeping, but I can't. Tomorrow the whole family is heading off to the beach for the day to relax by the ocean and watch the Fourth of July fireworks at night.

According to Grandma, we're supposed to be up and at it by at least seven, but I'm not even slightly tired. I'm wide awake.

Something comes over me, and I grab my phone from my nightstand, which is currently in a state of chaos. My lip balm, hand cream, extra jewelry, a water bottle full of ice-cold water, and the book I'm currently reading are scattered over it. I need to clean my room.

I find Grayson's contact and hover my thumb over the text icon.

I should lock my screen and put my phone away. Instead, I click the text icon and type out a text.

Hi.

Then I hit send and toss my phone to the other side of my bed.

What am I doing? He's probably asleep. Oh well, no going back now.

The device buzzes. I quickly snatch it up from my sheets.

Grayson: Hands? Is this you?

I smile to myself.

Layla: No. It's actually your stalker.

Grayson: Cool. I've always wanted to have a stalker.