That Girl's the One I Love Read Free Page B

walk-in closet. Still wrapped in towels, they snuggled under the sheet and the light blanket, his arm under her neck, watching the blades of the ceiling fan rotate, enjoying the quiet lull as the fires of their passions took time to rekindle.
    They drowsed, then talked, then took the time to discover each other all over again. Leyla found that as the night drew to a close and the morning came near, the early rays of the sun tinged the wall over her closet with a faint blush. They’d been talking about their dreams—his wish to touch the lives of his fans with songs from the heart, songs that really meant something, but never to lose himself in that life; her long-held aspiration to tell stories, to write down the ones that would express what she felt in herself and others.
    He pulled her gently to him and kissed her forehead, half asleep already. “All we need is for the right phone call to come, baby doll. Then we’ll be on our way.”
    “Like that will ever happen,” she said, but mostly to herself. So many people had those big dreams, and the new wave of television fueled them even farther with those reality shows where people off the street could hit the big time. But no one she knew. Heck, no one most people knew. She snuggled close into the safety of his arms and let the world fade away.
    She must have slept like the dead, because she’d never heard his phone, never heard him get up, never heard him latch the door behind him. Who’d called him? Maybe it was Jack, the music agent he’d been waiting to hear from for weeks. Surely he’d call her as soon as he had news.
    She waited till mid-afternoon, then called him, leaving her number when he didn’t answer. Maybe he was in a meeting. Maybe he’d already written her off.
    No. Arran wasn’t like that. Soulmates might be just a hokey concept those matchmaking companies made up to sell their services, but if she’d ever met someone whose soul fit exactly with hers, she knew now Arran Lake was the one.
    Just when she thought her heart would explode with not hearing from him, he called her, late that night. She’d already climbed in bed, exhausted from a long day at work, lying between the pale blue sheets, letting her mind wander back to the night before, and Arran. When the phone rang, she practically dropped it in her haste to get it into her hands.
    “Hello? Arran? Is that you?”
    “How’s my girl? I miss you already.”
    She fought not to beg him to come back. She wanted his arms around her again, that security she’d felt with him in the early dawn just before she’d fallen asleep. “I miss you, too. Did you find your guy? The one who called you?”
    “This is it, Leyla! They want our music. We’ve got a contract, we’ve got an agent—but I’ve got to go to L.A. tomorrow, to get everything signed. I’m so sorry.”
    She swallowed hard, wanting to encourage him, even though her gut was pushing words up through her throat, begging him not to go. She thought she’d choke on them. “Don’t be sorry, Arran. This is your dream.”
    “I don’t want to lose you.”
    She tried not to let her disappointment come through. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know where I am.”
    “I’ll…I’ll call you.” His turn to sound tentative and unsure.
    “I’ll be waiting. Good luck, babe. Or should I say, break a leg?”
    He finally laughed. “Don’t say that! I probably will.” A long pause. “Take care of yourself till we see each other again, all right? Promise me.”
    He was still being ridiculous. She’d be fine. She was always fine. Her mind wandered back to their night together. Sometimes she was better than fine. “I…promise, Arran.”
    The noise level wherever he was went up till she could hardly hear him. “They’re calling for us. I’ve got to go. I...I love you, Leyla.”
    Her lips worked to form words, her heart a little stunned at the deep sincerity she heard in his voice. She struggled, but nothing came out. She heard the