Ever After Awaits (Layla) novel Chapter 140

Chapter 140: Cade POV

The lake is quieter midmorning. The kind of quiet that feels earned.

I’m walking its perimeter barefoot, the grass still somewhat damp beneath my feet, fidgeting with my phone that’s in my right hand, anxiously waiting for Xavier and Layla to get here after his big ‘apology tour‘ this morning.

I like this time of day here, where it smells like pine needles, just–lit campfire smoke, and Layla’s strawberry shampoo that somehow lingers on my shirt collar like it belongs there now.

The breeze is soft but steady, brushing along the water in low ripples, and it reminds me of her touch. Tentative at first. Then, sure and explorative. Then everything.

God, last night.

She had looked up at me with so much trust–so much want–but none of it felt rushed or performative. It was honest and real. And I don’t know what the hell I did in a past life to deserve being the one she gave that to, but I’d spend a lifetime making sure she didn’t regret it.

I wasn’t gentle because I thought she’d break. I was gentle because she’s the kind of girl you should be gentle with. The kind that makes you want to slow down, memorize every sound she makes, and kiss the breath right out of her while she giggles into your mouth.

I grin to myself like a lovesick teenager, shaking my head, thinking back to how she had moaned softly and breathily, like she didn’t mean to let it slip. How she had whispered my name like it was the only word she could remember, while her fingers curled into my biceps as she sighed into our every slow movement.

And I have a sneaking suspicion that I might have looked too serious, too focused, as I watched her come undone below me, or while I found my own blissful pleasure in her heat. But I didn’t care. Because watching her as I tried to make it good for her, to try and make it perfect for her…

That mattered to me more than I ever expected.

AJ slings the football toward me in a lazy arc, the kind that doesn’t demand much but still lands solid in my palms. The water’s refreshingly cool around our waists as the sunlight skims the surface in flashes, and the BBQ’s sizzling faintly carries on the breeze in the background.

Movement from the treeline catches my eye, and I glance over just in time to see Xavier’s car pulling into the gravel lot where Hunter’s truck is also parked, the tires crunching softly like it knows not to interrupt the peace. Xavier steps out first, saunters over to the passenger side, and opens the door–and there she is.

Layla steps out, graceful as ever, and something about the way she moves tells me everything I need to know. Her shoulders aren’t tight anymore. Her arms aren’t wrapped around her middle, and she’s not

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Chapter 140: Cade POV

curled in on herself like she’s bracing for something.

She looks lighter.

Xavier steers her with his hand at her lower back as they head to his trunk with his too–familiar calm, just- accomplished–something kind of stride. Not smug, though. Just…settled. Like whatever happened between them this morning mattered.

And by the slight smile that’s softening her features, I think it did.

AJ’s gaze followed mine when he heard the Charger approach, but now he glances back at me with a small nod. We don’t need to say anything. We both saw it.

Xavier needed a win with her. And Layla? She needed the type of apology only he could give–the kind

wrapped in meaningful words, small gestures, and unwavering steadiness.

I’m not mad about it. Not even a little. It’s strange sometimes, this thing between us–all of us–wanting the same girl. But with her, it’s never felt like a competition. It’s more like we’re all orbiting the same sun. Just trying to keep her warm. Trying to keep her safe. To keep her seen.

So yeah. If Xavier made her smile this morning, good. She deserves a hell of a lot more than just one of us showing up for her.

We watch as Xavier hands her a backpack he pulls from the trunk, and even though they’re too far away for us to hear their words, we see the blush on Layla’s cheeks after she pulls the new bathing suit from the

bag.

With a head nod in the direction of the changing area and a few last words, Xavier steps over to where Hunter is playing grill master by the BBQ, while Layla disappears from sight behind the designated

treeline.

Ten minutes later, she steps out from the trees, and the breath I didn’t know I was holding knocks its way out of me like I’ve been sucker–punched in the ribs by a fucking angel.

Xavier’s choice of swimsuit is something else. Black, sleek, high on her hips with cutouts at the sides that show just enough of her silky skin to make me reconsider every promise I ever made about taking things

slow.

She doesn’t see any of us at first because she’s busy tucking her hair behind her ear, her bare feet coming to a stop on the sand, while scanning the shoreline like she’s trying to figure out where to go. But when her eyes land on each of us individually, she smiles, and everything–and I mean everything–stops.

The football I’ve been spinning between my fingers slips from my grip and hits the sand with a dull thud. I don’t move to pick it up. I can’t. Hunter curses at the grill to the left of me, jerking his hand away from the grate like he just realized that fire burns. AJ chokes on his drink where he’s standing near the unlit fire pit, sputtering like a man caught mid–confession. And Xavier? Mr. cool–and–always–composed–Xavier? He

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Chapter 140: Cade POV

adjusts his aviators, and even behind the lenses, it’s clear that he’s looking at her like a man who’s on the edge of losing all of his carefully kept control.

It even feels like the damn wind stills.

With her sun–kissed legs for days, her skin glowing like summer was made to worship her, the suit hugs her like it was sewn from sin and temptation. Again, the cutouts on the sides draw my eyes to all the places a man really shouldn’t be looking at in front of his best friends. And yet… Here we are. All of us. Looking. Worshipping.

“Jesus, Beautiful,” Hunter says in a voice that strains with desire, “are you trying to get us all killed?”

“We want to go in the water,” I add before I can stop myself, “not cardiac arrest.”

AJ mutters something about punching or thanking Xavier, and I can’t tell if I agree with either or both of

his sentiments.

And when she smiles this time–slow and wicked, a towel swinging casually by her side as she walks toward us like she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing–my brain short–circuits and my mouth goes dry.

Xavier’s voice is low and rough when he finally speaks. “I’m glad it fits.”

“It fits really well,” I echo, because there’s no universe where I’m letting him have the last word on that.

Hunter lets out a low whistle, the sound sharp in the thick, stunned silence that surrounds us. Then- because apparently even his brain short–circuits sometimes–he bites down on his knuckles like it’ll somehow cool the heat that I know from personal experience is running through his blood. “If this was your plan all along,” he mutters, his eyes still tracking every slow, teasing step Layla takes across the sand, “I’m starting to think you’re more dangerous than we thought.”

She settles beside our pile of discarded shirts, stretching out like she belongs here, like she knows what she’s doing to us. “Relax, boys,” she says, and her voice is honey–smooth. “It’s just a swimsuit.”

Which prompts Xavier to mutter, “It’s not just anything.”

And he’s right. Because on the inside? I’m already halfway gone. Completely and irreversibly wrecked–and we haven’t even made it to lunch.

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