Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
As we’re hanging up, I get a text from Layla: Felix is refusing to go to dance class. His dad made him feel like shit about it when he was with him over the weekend, and the other boy who attends the class isn’t here, so it’s only girls. We’ll be home whenever you’re ready to pick us up.
Like hell he’s going to give up what he loves because of that asshole.
Me: Text me the address, and I’ll be right there. Don’t leave yet.
“Hey guys, how would you feel about going to dance class with Felix?”
They all glance up at me with different levels of confusion on their faces. “His dad gave him shit, and now he doesn’t want to go.”
“Fuck his dad,” Gage says, standing. “I’m in.”
“Same,” Braxton and Declan both agree.
Since we don’t know the situation we’re heading into, we take security along with us. When we arrive at the studio, Felix and Layla are sitting inside, where the parents sit and watch.
“Hey, heard someone is starting dance classes today,” I say, stepping in front of them.
Felix looks up, shocked to see me here. “I don’t know,” he says with a frown marring his features. “My dad said boys don’t—”
“Your dad is wrong,” Gage cuts in, making his presence known. Felix glances over and sees Gage, Braxton, and Declan all standing in front of him. “There’s nothing wrong with a man dancing, and this class looks fun as hell. So if you don’t want to go, fine. But we’re going.”
Layla’s eyes go wide.
“You guys are going to dance class?” Felix asks.
“Yep, you coming or what?” Braxton asks, extending his fist.
Felix pops off the chair and fist-bumps him. “Yeah, I’m coming.”
When the five of us walk into the studio, we garner the attention of everyone, including the instructor, who eyes us curiously. “Are you in a band?” she asks.
“Yep. Raging Chaos,” I tell her. “My friend Felix here is new, and since he’s the only boy, he asked us to join. Would you mind?”
She smiles softly. “Not at all. Welcome to beginners hip-hop dance.”
“Holy shit,” Declan says, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead with a paper towel. “That was a damn workout.”
“Yeah, it was,” Gage agrees, still panting like he just ran cross-country.
“I had no idea dancing could use so many damn muscles,” Braxton adds, flinching in pain.
“That was so much fun!” Felix says, completely unaffected. “Can we do it again?”
Layla laughs. “Yes, next week.”
Since we came in separate vehicles, Layla and Felix head home, and the guys and I go back to our place so we can shower and get ready. When five o’clock rolls around, I head back out to pick them up. We’re meeting everyone at Maya’s, a Mexican restaurant Layla said Felix loves. I offered to pick up her mom as well, but she said she’s riding with my parents.
It’s nice going out to dinner in New York. Almost no security is needed. We get a private room since there’s a shit ton of us, but it’s not like in LA, where you need one so people will leave you alone. It’s a different vibe here, and I can see why my dad moved here years ago, leaving LA for good.
“Where are we all sitting?” Mom asks as the guys walk in.
“Oh, shit,” Layla mutters.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“I didn’t know they were coming to dinner. I didn’t even—” Before she can finish what she’s saying, Kaylee strolls through the door, running straight into Braxton.
“Oh, shit,” I mimic.
“Oh,” Kaylee gasps, her eyes going wide. Everyone turns to face them, no doubt holding their breath and waiting to see what’ll happen. They haven’t been in the same room in years, not since everything went down.
Kaylee’s eyes meet Layla’s, and Layla cuts across the room. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I can go,” Kaylee says.
“Or you can stay,” Layla offers.
“I can go,” Braxton jumps in, refusing to look at Kaylee.
“Or you both can stay,” Layla says.
“No, seriously, I can go,” Kaylee insists. “I actually need to get home and pack.”
“Where are you going?” Layla asks in shock.
“LA.”
“What?” Layla shrieks. “Why?”
“The PR company that hired me has me going on tour with Sam York as his publicist.” Sam York is a huge musician, sings mostly pop, and he’s also a huge asshole with an even bigger ego.
Braxton snorts. “Of course they did.”
Kaylee glares at Braxton, but as if remembering she’s the reason for his bitterness, her features quickly soften, and she doesn’t respond. “Anyway, I have like two days to pack, but I wanted to tell you in person and hug you.” She wraps her arms around Layla, who sniffles in response.
“I’m going to miss you so much.”
“I’ll only be gone for a few months, and then I’ll be back.”
“You’re going to be amazing!” Layla hugs her again.