“Do you take after your father?”
I nod and proudly smile. “My favorite memories of my childhood were the times he came home, and we’d spend the summer vacation in a cabin. He’d tell me about all the places he had traveled to, and what he saw. He’d show me a photo and weave an entire story around it.” I let out a happy sigh. “My dad is magical.”
Emotion washes over Falcon’s face, something similar to pain. Longing?
I watch as he composes himself. “Your father sounds amazing.” I wait, giving Falcon time, so he’ll tell me what he’s thinking, but instead, he points to my half-eaten toast. “Let’s finish so we can get back to campus.”
Not wanting to force him into opening up to me, I smile and continue to eat. When we’re done, and Falcon reaches for his wallet, I shake my head. “I’m paying.”
His eyes snap to mine, and I can see he wants to argue. I can’t resist taking advantage of the moment to tease him. I get up and walk around the table, then quickly slide in next to him. Placing a hand on the table, I lean in really close to him. When my lips part, his eyes immediately drop to my mouth, and then I whisper, “Thank you.”
He frowns. “Huh?”
Struggling not to laugh, I say, “Would it kill you to just say thank you?”
Falcon lets out a burst of laughter and takes hold of my chin, keeping me close to him. His eyes shine with warmth as he stares deep into mine. “Thank you, Layla.”
“You’re welcome, Falcon.”
Wanting to hear him laugh, I quickly close the distance between us, press a kiss to his mouth, then dart out of the booth. I throw cash on the table and walk as fast as I can away from him, and sure enough, his chuckle follows me all the way to the exit.
When we step outside, I grin at him. “You survived eating at a diner. I’m impressed.”
“Let’s hold off on celebrating just yet. Food poisoning takes a while to set in,” he jokes.
“Mr. Reyes!”
Both our heads snap in the direction of the person calling Falcon, but before I can see who it is, Falcon grabs hold of me and shoves me against his chest.
“Back into the diner,” Falcon snaps, and I don’t have a choice but to move with him, because he’s not letting go of me. “How do I get to the back entrance?”
Only when we’re rushing down a narrow hallway does Falcon let go of me, but then he grabs my hand. “We have to run.”
“Why? Who was that?” I ask, and the worried look on Falcon’s face makes me glance over my shoulder to see if we’re being followed.
“It’s paparazzi. Just keep your head down, so they can’t get a photo of your face.”
Wait. What?
Stunned I follow Falcon out the back and I automatically just run with him. I don’t take in my surroundings or where we’re heading. I vaguely hear Falcon make a call.
Falcon doesn’t want to be seen with me in public?
But he practically announced it to the whole Academy yesterday?
But the press? That’s everyone finding out, including his family.
A Bentley pulls up next to us with screeching tires, and then Lake calls out, “Get in. Quickly.” Falcon yanks open the back door and shoves me inside before sliding in next to me. He shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around me, covering my head.
Why are there tears burning my eyes?
Why do I feel like less?
Because Falcon is hiding you. You’re a secret, Layla.
I shouldn’t be hurt. I knew this would happen. Our lives are light years apart. Who was I kidding to think if we really wanted it, we could make it work.
Falcon will marry a trophy wife who will look good on his arm, not the PA’s daughter who got a free ride because his father felt charitable.Chapter 14FalconThat was close. I keep Layla covered, and when Lake drives through the gates of Trinity, I glance at the press vans parked outside.
I shouldn’t have let Layla leave the campus. That was a stupid mistake.
Lake parks right in front of our dorm then glances back to us. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I should’ve expected it after the article.” I open the door and get out. Turning back, I hold my hand out to Layla, but instead of taking it, she gets out and shoves my jacket against me.
Without a word, she begins to walk back towards the entrance where the press are all camped out.
“Layla,” I call after her, “what are you doing?”
She doesn’t stop, and when I take hold of her arm, she yanks it away from me. “I’m going to get my car.”
I dart in front of her and grab hold of her shoulders, so she won’t just walk around me.