LAYLA
My head is spinning as I step out of the bathroom and head to the bar. Even after five minutes under the hand-drier, my damp top still clings to my chest as I slip into a barstool and order two more drinks.
I don’t mind. I feel hot and flushed and flustered. I could use something to cool me down. As I wait for my drinks, I glance back at our dark booth in the corner of the room. Luke has pulled a paperback out from somewhere and is reading it, completely ignoring the chaos around him. My stomach flips.
I almost kissed him.
I don’t know what came over me. We were sitting so close, shouting over the noise of the bar, and it felt like there were magnets in my skin, dragging me into him. I remember the way his dark eyes fixed on my mouth as I talked. The light graze of his fingertips
