“It’s a really long story.” Layla sighed, in no mood for a retelling. “And it’s hardly worth getting into at this point.”
“Don’t be mad at her,” Tommy mumbled as he struggled to sit. “It’s not her fault.”
“I’m not mad,” Mateo shot back. “Just—” He shook his head. “Never mind. You okay? You want some water or something?”
Tommy shook his head. Looking at Layla, he said, “What’d she give me?”
Mateo handed over the note.
Tommy scanned it, then tossed it aside. “I feel like an ass.”
“Don’t,” Layla said. She thought of the crumpled T-shirt. Madison had set him up, pretended to seduce him, then fled—oldest trick in the book. Though she wasn’t about to tell him that and make him feel worse. “Why don’t you sleep it off? We’ll stay with you, if you want.”
Tommy shook his head. “No, I’m not . . .” He acted like he was about to get up, but Layla pressed a hand to his shoulder to stop him.
“Oh, no. You’re not going anywhere. For one thing, I’m pretty sure she took your car. That’s probably why she drugged you, to get the keys. For another, you’re under the influence. So you can either sleep it off or chill, but you’re not leaving until it’s worked its way through your system.”
“Yes, Mom.” Reluctantly, he sank back against the pillows, but the look he gave her was grateful.
“Did you find anything at Ira’s?” Layla perched beside him as Mateo took a chair just opposite.
Tommy’s lids drifted shut in a way that made Layla think he was falling asleep. When he opened them again, he said, “Chec
k my phone.”
Layla handed it to him, watching as he input the passcode, then showed her the screen.
“Why are you showing me this?” She took the phone, struggling to make sense of why Tommy would show her a picture of a topless girl. Was he trying to emotionally torture her? If so, it was working. If that was what he was into, she could never compete. More importantly, she shouldn’t have to.
“I messed up,” Tommy said, rubbing his knuckles against his tired eyes. “He knew I was there. The pic is Ira’s way of screwing with me.”
“I don’t get it.” She looked at Tommy.
“There’s nothing to get.”
Layla was about to return the phone when Mateo said, “Can I see that?”
She smirked. “At your own risk. It’s R rated.” She started to laugh, but the look on Mateo’s face cut her short.
She watched as he stared at the image. When he lifted his gaze, he said, “You sure Ira took this?”
Tommy nodded. “Positive.”
“But why would Ira give you a picture of Heather Rollins?” Mateo glanced between Tommy and Layla.
“Wait—what?” Layla grasped at the phone to take another look. “You sure?” She studied Mateo.
His face flushed in embarrassment. “The broken-heart tattoo on her finger gives it away.”
“Lots of people have those.” Layla needed to be absolutely sure and not jump to conclusions.
“Trust me.” Mateo cringed. “I recognize the rest too.”
Layla dropped her gaze. Now she felt embarrassed for both of them.
“So, what’s going on?” Tommy inched up the headboard. “Are you saying Heather Rollins is with Ira? Because I thought she was with you.”
Mateo swiftly averted his gaze, and Layla couldn’t help but feel bad on his behalf. He hated gossip, loathed drama, but now, despite his best efforts to avoid all of that, he found himself right at the center. “They know each other. That’s all I can confirm. As for Heather and me, we had a thing, but it’s over.”