Ryan's POV
She was staring at me like she thought I wouldn’t notice.
Which was ridiculous.
I noticed everything.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” I asked.
Layla crossed her arms.
“So make it make sense.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Make what make sense?”
“You left this morning perfectly fine,” she said, gesturing toward my face, “and now you’re walking back in here with a busted lip.”
Her hand landed on her hip, and for a second, she looked less like my annoying housemate and more like someone who had every right to be worried.
Almost like my mother.
Or...
My wife.
The thought came out of nowhere.
And I immediately hated that my brain even went there.
“Why are you nagging me?” I asked, dropping onto the chair. “You’re not my—”
I stopped.
Mother.
That was what I was goin
