Grimacing, I suck in a sharp breath. “No, I’m dreading ithonestly. But I plan to tell her tomorrow morning over breakfast. After all, I need to tell her before her oncologist does.”
I called him the second I left Grayson’s house and made him administer the medication to my mom. I was quickly informed of the lengthy treatment and different stages, most needing to be administered in the hospital.
“Where does she think you’re going tonight?” Layla asks, pulling my thoughts away from the lengthy phone call with Dr. Stewart.
“Well…”
Layla’s startled gasp fills my childhood bedroom, which is still littered with moving boxes.
“Bella Stratford, are you sneaking out of your house at the ripe age of twenty-six?”
Now I’m cringing—at myself. “Yes?”
A cackle of laughter comes over the line. Scooping my phone up, I take her off speaker, although with the sleeping medication my mom is on, she’s knocked out.
“Stop laughing at me!”
“Are you going to leave out the window?” She snorts. “My god, can I drive by and watch this unfold?”
“No, you cannot!”
I can’t help but laugh right alongside her. Her laughter is infectious.
Sliding my feet into my black knee-high boots, I step in front of my full-length mirror, twisting this way and that as I inspect the little white dress I’m wearing. It hugs my curves but is stillbreathable, made with a thick knit fabric that is as soft as pajamas.
I contemplated wearing red, but I thought it would be giving into him too easily.
I had to pair the dress with my thickest coat, considering the dropping temperature. I have no doubt snow will be falling in spades soon enough, probably by this weekend. We had a light trickle two weeks ago but the full force of Colorado winters is about to hit.
I just hope wherever he’s taking me has heaters.
Checking the time, I swear under my breath. “Layla, I’ll call you tomorrow. He’ll be here any second.”
She whistles over the phone. “Just remember that I won’t judge you if you want to kiss him…or sleep with him.”
“I’m going now. Bye!”
“I can’t wait to hear about it all in the morning,” she yells over the phone, the demand evident. I’m not going to be able to avoid her probing.
Hanging up with a snort, I take a deep breath, check my makeup in the mirror one last time, and say a prayer that I won’t embarrass myself tonight as I tip-toe through my mom’s house and open the front door.
Only to come to a stop.
I never knew that a man could look so ruggedly handsome, could practically drip with sex appeal, could be tall and built with muscles upon muscles that borderline glimmer when the light shines on his sun-kissed skin. Never knew he could have a face crafted by gods and yet be such a sweetheart.
That is until I step out my front door and see Grayson Crawford, standing on my porch holding a bouquet of lilies, with a slight tint of crimson staining his cheeks.
LAYLA
I mean it, B!
send me updates as soon as you can
EEEKKK
I’m so excited for you
and please for the love of god, if the opportunity presents itself, climb that man like a tree!!!
