Say You're Mine (The Gallaghers Book 1) by Layla Hagen (digital ebook reader .txt) 📗

out a few more general things about the band.

“Nashville. It’s always a hotspot for creating buzz around new albums.”

“When are you coming back?”

“Friday.”

I couldn’t shake off the feeling of disappointment, even though that was ridiculous.

And while I totally planned to make the most of the evening, we never got the chance.

Once everyone had eaten cake, Lars demanded we all go to the entertainment level.

“I want everyone to play a round of darts. Yes, that includes you, Brayden. No sneaking up to the rehearsal room.”

The look on Brayden’s face was priceless. He clearly didn’t want to tell Lars off on his birthday, but the prospect of spending the night surrounded by guests clearly wasn’t thrilling him. So I set out to make this as pleasant for him as possible.

“Hey, come on. Don’t spoil the fun. I’ll cheer for you again.”

Brayden grinned. “So I’m being bossed into playing darts and I’ll lose? How can I say no to that?”

“How indeed?” I said.

Lars winked at me. Brayden laughed, shaking his head as we all followed Lars upstairs.

The whole night, I felt tethered to Brayden, even in the huge darts room, as if our kiss had sired a physical connection between us. Every time our gazes met, I couldn’t help smiling. I felt butterflies in my belly.

We didn’t even get one chance to be alone for the rest of the night, but I had no doubt that once he was back from Nashville, all bets were off.

Chapter SevenIsabelle

I spent half of my Sunday sleeping, because I’d gotten home from the party at three o’clock in the morning. When I woke up, I already had messages from Josie, Tess, and Skye. I punched my pillow into a comfortable position and read them while lying in bed. I planned to be lazy the whole day.

Josie: How was the party? I need details. Pleaaaaase.

Tess: Can you tell us who your guy is now?

Skye: So I did some research on the band. It’s Brayden, isn’t it?

Damn, Skye knew me well.

Grinning, I made a group, adding all the girls, and named it The Curious Club.

Isabelle: Since you’re all asking about the same thing, we might as well have a group.

Josie: Hell yes.

I also noticed a message from Brayden. He’d sent it late last night.

Brayden: Did you get home safe?

It was endearing to me that he always double-checked.

Isabelle: Sorry, I fell asleep right away and just woke up.

Brayden: I figured as much.

Isabelle: Already in Nashville?

He called me the next second. I put a palm on my belly, barely able to contain my joy.

“Yes. We already have a radio interview lined up. Starts in ten minutes. Then we have a photo shoot.”

“Poor you. I plan to be lazy all day.”

“I’d love to be lazy with you.”

“Brayden...”

“Wait, don’t finish that thought. We’ll talk when I’m back, okay? Face-to-face.”

I smiled, drumming my fingers on my stomach. I wasn’t ready to stop this flirty thing we had going on, so I said, “Okay.”

“I’ve got to go. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Damn. If he said swoon-worthy things like that when we met, I was done for.

As soon as the call ended, I glanced at the screen. The Curious Club was alight with messages.

Time to bring my girls up to date.

***

My lazy Sunday turned out to be exactly what I needed to recharge, but the next morning, I still barely dragged myself out of bed. I was a bit slow on Mondays in general. I took a cup from the cupboard that said “Just another fabulous Monday” on it and filled it with steamy hot coffee. Leaning against the kitchen counter, I checked my phone. I had a message from Brayden.

Brayden: I have an idea.

Isabelle: Holy shit, so early in the day? I’m barely sipping my first coffee.

Brayden: Good.

I chuckled.

Isabelle: You think chatting me up on a Monday morning before I’ve even finished drinking my first cup of coffee is a good idea? You’re in for a surprise, mister. I need at least two to stop being grouchy.

Brayden: Then I’ll wait until you’ve had two.

I grinned at my phone, dying to know what he wanted to say. It took me all of five minutes to drink both coffees. I’d never been that fast. And it amused me that he waited for me to actually do it.

Isabelle: I’m done.

Brayden: Someone’s in a hurry.

Isabelle: You made me curious.

Brayden: Sasha scheduled a meeting for us with you on Friday. I want you just for me after that.

Warmth coursed through me, and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I wanted to say yes. I very much wanted to, but was it a good idea? I laughed at my silliness. Why was I overthinking this? It was harmless flirting. And a few smoking-hot kisses.

Isabelle: Why?

Brayden: You know why. Can I call you, or are you in a session already?

Isabelle: No, but I’m running late. I need to be out the door in a few minutes.

Brayden: What’s your schedule like?

Isabelle: I have back-to-back sessions from nine to six in the evening. We can talk after?

Brayden: That’s when I’m attending the talk shows. Mornings?

Isabelle: During my coffee wake-up time? You like to live dangerously.

Brayden: Always.

Isabelle: Okay. But starting tomorrow, right? I’m already running late today.

Brayden: Tomorrow.

I grinned, hurrying to the bathroom and getting ready in record time. On the way to my office in Brooklyn, I got a headache. It happened a lot because mid-July in New York was horribly humid and the AC in the subway was freezing. On the bright side, I got a few more messages from Brayden. The only problem with my apartment was the horribly long commute, but it was worth it because the rent wasn’t high.

I felt like I was in high school again for the rest of the day, waiting for the boy I liked to text me. I checked my phone constantly, though I was discreet during sessions with clients—only checking my smartwatch for notifications of messages.