Page 205 of Broken Brothers

“See,” I said, seizing the opportunity. “I know you think I’m at fault here, but in reality, you’re the one at fault.”

“Really.”

“Yes, you are simply too sexy to be ignored, and your beauty just compelled me to order a drink.”

I don’t think this is still going slow. I think this is going slow in the sense that speeding down the highway is slow compared to the speed of light.

Meh, whatever.

“Oh, then how will you ever stop?” she said. “I think I’m going to only get more beautiful the more liquor goggles you get.”

“Or,” I corrected. “You’re already so beautiful, blindingly so, and the only way for my eyes to adjust would be to have some liquor myself.”

“Or, your eyesight sucks, and you just need some liquor to settle it.”

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud as Layla also lost herself in laughter. It felt good to be in this setting without limitation. It almost made me forget about the fact that, in two days, I’d be out with Sarah.

But that was merely a glimmer in my mind.

As was the fact that, just on Monday, she had seemed so distant.

This is further evidence to go slow. You gotta ride out the highs and the lows to make sure you’re good fits for each other. Take your time, Chance.

Just… maybe enjoy some cocktails.

Francesca came back with our drinks and took our food orders, each of us getting some fish and asparagus. The main highlight, though, was the drinks—we each dared each other after the previous round to have a drink, and it quickly became less of something to relax us and more of a dangerous, daring game. Who would pull back first from drinking? Who would get the other to the breaking point?

Not only did we violate my first rule, we outright flaunted it. We laughed in its face. We told each other that we’d have to face the equivalent of capital punishment for what we did.

It was only when I went to the bathroom or she did that I had a chance to settle my mind a bit. I’d given up on the idea of going slow, that was a given; I was more curious as to why.

Maybe Layla’s reaction on Monday had compelled me to be more cognizant about treating her well and giving her reason to like me. Maybe my talk with Morgan that night had given me the drive to seize the moment. Maybe Sarah’s arrival was pushing me to seal it with Layla so I wouldn’t have to face temptation.

Maybe I was just horny as hell.

By the first time Layla had gone to the bathroom, my mind was going a bit too fast for me to think clearly. I wasn’t really able to think straight about it and consider the why. That was something that would have to be saved until the morning.Provided, of course, that Layla doesn’t bring something up herself.

The daring continued through the meal, at which point we had our fifth drink of the night. When Francesca put them out,she made a comment about us having fun, to which Layla said, “Do you see my man? Wouldn’t you want to?”

I laughed, but it was the sort of thing that could have signaled quite a bit. By “my man” did she mean she thought we were an item now? Or was it just a slip?

That was the sort of thing that, had it been anyone else, would have pumped the brakes. It would have felt like too much, too quick. But with Layla, I just brushed it off. I had to think about brushing it off, but I was able to all the same.

Francesca departed, and Layla leaned forward, not exactly hiding the fact that she wanted me to notice her breasts all but spilling out of her dress.

“So you know,” she said. “We’ve violated the first rule pretty hard tonight.”

“Mmm,” I murmured in agreement. “Damn. Some beauitful gal named Layla screwed me over on that.”

“Oh, dear. Well, how would you feel if she tried to, ahem, screw you over on your second rule?”

“What?” I said, playing along. “I could never do that. My second rule is sacred. In fact, for pressing me on such a matter, I’m going to say no sex until marriage! Then I’ll really see if you mean it with me.”

“Oh, damn,” Layla said, snapping her fingers together. “If only you didn’t think so otherwise. I have so much pent-up energy from tonight… I’d hate for me to have to release it myself.”

I could take a hint. I could also not really keep up my defenses when I was this drunk. It was a losing battle of the highest level.

“So what you’re saying is,” I said, already knowing which direction I was going to go in with this conversation. “Is that you want me to violate my second rule because for the amount of arousal you have right now, you can’t release it just by yourself.”