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becomes an absurd mission due to the mirrors lining the walls. It might just be better to see the real thing than her four silvery reflections.

I lower my glance and gasp, because Laia’s eyes are half-open.

She peeks up at me from below her lashes and not in a bewildered, what the heck am I doing in your arms, kind of way. No, her eyes are warm and calm.

“It feels good, Devon. Soo goooood…” she murmurs and closes her eyelids again.

I realize she isn’t awake at all, but probably dreaming. Am I in her dream? Am I?

Before this puzzling realization can sink in, the doors open.

Cat, as if she knows I’m not alone, makes loud meows before I turn the lock. Her yellow irises illuminate when she spots Laia in my arms, as if I’d given her fish pâté.

The little beast is happy to have Laia back at my house. And if I’m honest, so am I.

I throw off my shoes and carry Laia to the spare bedroom. I lay her gently on the bed and take off her flats.

By the time I take her shoes to the corridor and return, my furry companion has already settled herself in the curve between Laia’s shoulder and neck. She leans her head on Laia’s collar bone.

I stare at them, and a smile makes its way to my lips.

They look precious together.

For a second, I wish I had a fairy grandmother who could turn me into a kitten so I could join my cat and snuggle against Laia’s warm body.

Cat would probably scratch my face if I approached them, though.

I fetch a blanket and want to put it on Laia, but Cat lifts her chin and scoffs at me.

“I’m not taking her away from you, Cat. I just want to tuck her in,” I murmur.

As if the animal understands me, she lowers her head and starts to purr.

I arrange the checkered cover so it wraps Laia’s entire body up to her chest then I walk out of the room.

I go to the kitchen to get a glass of water and make a sandwich. There’s not much left in my fridge, so I leave the two eggs and bacon untouched, despite feeling famished. Laia will need those fatty calories more when she wakes. It’s clear she isn’t used to pulling late nights or gulping down cocktails, so I’m afraid she’ll have a splitting headache.

As I finish eating, my phone beeps.

It’s a text from Ellie.

“Sorry Pete and I had to leave. Thank you for getting Laia home safely. xoxo”

I doubt my sister had anything urgent to discuss with Pete. My best guess is she wanted to remove herself and my buddy from the picture so Laia and I would be forced to spend an evening together.

Which is probably for the best, at least where it concerns Pete. I didn’t like the sweet glances my buddy gave to Laia while I was on stage.

Laia’s lecture about Morgan comes back to me, and I sigh.

I’ll still need to scold my sister for telling Laia about Morgan.

At least after tonight, Laia knows I wasn’t lying to her when I said that I had loved.

I finish washing my plate and glass.

On the way to my room, I can’t suppress the urge to sneak in and take a last peek at the two sleeping beauties.

Once I’m in my own bed, it’s still early, so I browse the latest news on my phone. I need something to distract my mind from Laia’s presence in my house. I do a quick search for any current rumors circulating about me. I don’t expect to find anything, since Laia hasn’t mentioned any new articles, and I know she monitors my public image with care.

But to my surprise, a result from yesterday comes up.

The headline makes me sit up.

I scan the article and pause at the phrase, “Did something or someone remind our carefree playboy that his life is empty without a meaningful relationship?”

“That’s exactly what happened,” I murmur as my phone drops to my lap.

I imagine the author must’ve decided to venture into such idling about my behavior because he lacked any other concrete, juicy piece to fill his column.

Still, I’m sure glad he did.

Though unwittingly, the writer captured into words what occurred when Laia came into my life.

Isn’t it strange that this article appeared in front of me at just the right time?

With the peculiar sensations Laia unlocked in me tonight, I’m finally ready to admit that I’m fed up with my old life. I’ve had enough messing around. I’m tired of flings.

I want strings attached. To someone special, with whom I feel at ease—a person who interests and excites me.

I already know who that woman should be.

Yes, I want Laia.

And not just in the you-look-so-gorgeous appreciation I usually reserve for other women. It’s not a fleeting desire, what I feel for her.

Something in Laia I still can’t pinpoint makes me want to spend time with her, protect her, and long for her more than I have for anyone.

Do I stand a chance with her?

I know she’s drawn to me. After our moment in the club, there’s no question about that. She might have been tipsy, but her eyes spoke of real desire toward me.

However, it’s likely only a physical attraction. Laia has already expressed to me that I couldn’t be further from the type of man she would date.

But that’s precisely what I would love to happen.

I want to court her, date her, get to know her, and let her know me.

I rub my temples, as a long sigh escapes my chest.

Is there a way I could make Laia change her mind?

Chapter 31

(Laia)

I wake to a rough, warm, and humid something licking my face.

I turn my head to the side and almost jump as Cat’s yellow irises meet mine.

It’s useless to ask myself where I am. The kitty by my side is a perfect clue.

The question is why am I here?

Cat lets out a demanding meow, and I tickle her below her chin.

“Hey, buddy, did you sleep with me?” I murmur, lifting myself to my elbows.

My head immediately

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