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CHAPTER NINETEEN

JORGE

A COUPLE MONTHS LATER

The cool evening air nips at my skin as I settle deeper into Layla’s couch. She is curled up against me under a blanket—the two of us sharing a bottle of rosé as the sun sets and the city’s lights begin to shine.

I take a slow sip of wine, savoring the smoothness as we talk about everything and nothing all at once. Tristan steps onto the terrace, shaking his head as he approaches us. “I see I’ve been replaced tonight, mo chuisle ,” he playfully teases Layla.

She looks up at him, her eyes glimmering with affection. “I did love him first,” she brats, a sincere smile slowly replacing her smirk. “But my nights always belong to you.”

Gently gripping her throat, he tilts her face and leans down to press a firm kiss against her hips. Tristan pulls back, his lips still curled in a teasing smile. “Just the one bottle tonight,” he instructs, a gruff sincerity taking over his playful tone. “I have plans for my night.”

“I bet you do,” I mutter under my breath, chuckling. Hearing my comment, Tristan grins wider but doesn’t say anything more. He places a soft kiss on Layla’s forehead and heads back inside.

Layla nuzzles back against me, and I whisper, “Your ass is in so much trouble.”

“I know,” she chirps. The two of them couldn’t be more perfect for each other. She loves to push his buttons, and he lives to put her back in her place when she does. “What was it you were about to tell me?”

I flex my fingers around the stemless glass in my hand. “Rory’s asked me to move in with him,” I share.

Her eyes go wide, and her lips part slightly in surprise. “Really? That’s… big! Did you say yes?”

I bite my lower lip and stare back at her uncomfortably as I mumble, “I didn’t tell him anything.” I’m on the fence, terrified at making such a giant step but also feeling like it’s the right decision. “It’s too soon, right?”

Layla laughs softly. “Don’t ask me. I moved in with Tristan about a week after we met.” She’s not wrong. Her relationship with Tristan was a whirlwind—all of it so fast, but it was right for them.

“Yeah, but you two are different,” I point out. “The two of you were practically all in from the moment he poured whiskey down your dress.”

“And the two of you aren’t?” She lifts her chin, and I find her staring up at me with a serious expression. “Blind men could see the way the two of you look at each other… That man loves the hell out of you, and you can’t deny that or what you feel for him.”

She isn’t wrong. Fuck, she’s never wrong when it comes to my love life. Rory has opened up so much in the past couple of months. I know more about him than anyone in my life.

Except my first love… Layla .

“It’s okay if you’re a little worried.” Layla’s tone is soft and comforting. “Giving someone your heart and your future is a little scary. But don’t let this keep you from being happy. Because the two of you deserve to be happy.”

Hugging her, I press my lips to the top of her head. “Thank you.”

When I pull my phone from my pocket, I swipe my fingers over the screen to pull up my text messages from Rory. My eyes are immediately drawn to the last two he sent.

RORY

I love you.

I’ll be home by 9. You should come over after Layla’s.

Home .

The first night I went there—my heart pounding—I remember how warm and cozy his place felt. I’ve always felt comfortable there, and it’s… home .

Yes…

I’ll move in with you.

“Done,” I inform Layla, putting my phone on the table. “I said, yes.”

“I know.” She smirks, snuggling into me tightly. “You couldn’t have said no if you tried. The two of you were meant to be together.”