4
Layla
The trailer door shuts and I wish I could pour my bottle of water over my head.
Vance Rose is one hell of a guy. It’s no joke that there’s a good-looking guy on every street corner in L.A. Hell, usually they’re clustered together like they all belong to the same hive or something. But Vance Rose has dimples that make me want to swoon like a schoolgirl, hair I want to push my fingers through and a tall, lean build I’m itching to climb like a tree and wrap my legs around. And I haven’t climbed a tree in a long damn time. Or had wood between my legs in almost as long, but that’s another story.
“Mom!” Payne screams my name even though I’m right beside him and I snap out of the daydream of what I’d do to Vance if I was a single girl with next to no responsibilities, rather than a so
