ZACK
Layla just looks at me, her chest rising and falling in little pants, and for a moment, everything else falls away. I’ve never seen her like this — so soft and pliable. A feeling I haven’t felt in a long time starts to grow in my chest.
Shaking my head, I push the emotion back and wrap my arms around her, lifting her right off her feet. She swears as I start to carry her out of the lounge and towards my bedroom.
“What are you doing, you Neanderthal?” She shouts, trying to kick my legs.
“Put me down. You can’t just carry people!”
I throw my head back and laugh so hard I almost drop her. “I bloody love you,” I say, and she snaps her mouth shut. “You deserve a bed.”
“How romantic of you,” she says dryly in my ear.
“Didn’t you talk about banging a woman on her kitchen table the ot
