First Chance Book 3

Layla

Temperance is a sight to behold. Her eyes are a captivating slate-blue, and her head is covered in a light golden-brown fuzz. Natalie’s parents would be over the moon.

Liam and I are the first ones to visit. If I didn’t know Liam so well, I’d probably have given him a piece of my mind for hogging the little bundle of joy.

The ride home is tense and awkward.

Liam seems to think I’m gullible enough to buy his feeble attempts at denying his feelings. He may not have planned it, but he fell for Nat. Or at least, he thinks he did.

The day she moved out, he stopped talking. We used to chat into the wee hours of the morning. But that stopped when she left.

His bedroom door has since become a barrier to our conversations and his hideaway. I guess this is how he copes—hide and hope the feelings fade.

But I don’t think it’s going to be that easy for Liam. He needs to face reality.

There can’t be anything between him and Nat. She’s happy with Ryan, and they have a family now.

I think the only way for him to get through this is to confront it. He needs to see how happy they are. That they’re meant to be. Maybe then he can move on.

Seeing that Liam is clearly trying to outrun me—and my probing questions—I decide to give him a break. I’ll give him until morning to sort through his mess.

As I walk past his door, I hear rock music blasting. His way of saying, “Leave me alone.”

I continue to my room, quietly closing the door behind me, grateful that this apartment has some sort of soundproofing.

I toss my crumpled clothes into the hamper, slip into a camisole and flannel shorts, and collapse into bed.

I didn’t bother setting my alarm last night. I figured I’d sleep in, and hopefully, Liam would too. Today is likely to be a busy day.

At the hospital last night, Natalie mentioned that if the baby was healthy, they’d be allowed to take her home after twenty-four hours.

As their best friends, Liam and I should be there to help them with whatever they need.

This will also force Liam to confront his feelings and realize that he can’t ruin what they have.

I know Natalie hasn’t shared everything with Ryan yet, but she will in time. They’ve spent the last few months building a relationship and bonding with Temperance in the womb.

It’s been a whirlwind, with her moving out and setting up a nursery in her new home.

Even though the mansion is an hour away, it doesn’t seem to deter the rest of the band.

My mornings usually involve battling my way to the kitchen to make breakfast, only to be swarmed by three grown men begging me to feed them because they’re “starving.”

By the time I sit down to eat, they’ve finished and are raiding the cupboards for more food.

They’re usually here from dawn till dusk, unless they’re working in the studio Ryan built at his house.

I’m constantly telling them to go home. I have homework and work to do. And cleaning. But it’s impossible to clean with four men taking up every inch of space.

They’re great guys, but they drive me nuts. It feels like I’m living in a frat house.

If I’d wanted that, Nat and I wouldn’t have moved here early to find an apartment close to campus.

Deciding to face the day like any other—with the exception of having a new family member—I throw off the blankets and quickly pull on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

More than once, my door has been opened without warning. I’m sure more than one band member has seen me in various states of undress.

As I slip on my flats, my cell phone starts ringing. I ignore it. It can wait until I’ve at least had a yogurt.

Breakfast is my ritual. It gets me going for the day.

I step out of my room, close the door behind me, and head to the kitchen. I grab a spoon and open the fridge to find...nothing.

I open the door wider, hoping food will magically appear. Specifically, my yogurt.

Nope.

Still empty.

I am. Going. To fucking kill them.

I slam the fridge door shut, toss my now useless spoon on the counter, and look around for the culprits.

Sure enough.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Again?” I yell.

I’d be calmer if this were the first time. Or even the fifth. But it’s not.

This has happened so many times, I’ve lost count. It’s not something I expect every day, because they don’t do it every single fucking day.

I think they enjoy this twisted mind game, and the bonus is a full stomach at someone else’s expense.

I’m starting to think they’re broke, maybe bankrupt. They’ve blown all their money on pointless crap and, instead of mooching off Ryan, they’re mooching off me.

“What is wrong with you guys? How many times have I said the food in the fridge is mine or Liam’s?

“If I invite you over for food, then maybe that gives you permission to eat,” I say, trying to stay calm.

“Now you three can go grocery shopping and restock. And while you’re at it, maybe get some groceries for yourselves.”

“Why would we want to go grocery shopping?” Gage asks.

“You want to go shopping because it’s the right thing to do, Gage. Seeing as you guys ate everything we had.”

“Okay, I get your point. So, if we’re going to do your grocery shopping, does that mean you’ll cook for us?”

I used to think of myself as a patient person. That was months ago. Now, I’m not so sure.

“Don’t pretend like you’re doing me a favor by shopping for me. You’re only doing it because you ate all our food.

“Here’s a thought. How about you don’t eat my food, and then maybe I’ll think about making your favorite dish.”

“Hey, no need to get all worked up, Lals. We’ll get your groceries,” Zepp jumps in. “Let’s just get her some food,” he tells Jason and Gage.

Without arguing, they get up and leave through my front door.

They’re like idiot savants. They’re brilliant when it comes to music, but they’ve forgotten how to live like regular people. How to treat someone with basic respect.

I can’t help but laugh. I wish I could secretly tag along on their shopping trip. They’ll be gone for hours. But I guess it’s about time I spent some quality time with Johnny.

***

“Confession is always weakness. The grave soul keeps its own secrets, and takes its own punishment in silence.”

-Dorothy Dix