“Seven,” he said. “And I’m not done. You have a lot of errors you need to know about.”
“It’s already published.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” He was smiling. “You need to know about each and every one of them.” He clasped my hand. “Why did you change where we first had sex? It was against the bookshelf, but in your book it’s on my desk.”
“My editor thought that was a better place.”
“My eyes skew towards a lighter blue, not dark blue.”
“Another editorial change.”
“We fucked on way more than one international flight, and you sucked my cock for the first time in New York, not a stopover hotel.”
“Once again, editorial.”
“I also don’t ever recall saying that I loved you that soon in our relationship.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I said what we had was messy and I liked it.”
“So, you don’t love me?” I asked.
“That’s not the point.”
“Care to get to it?” I mocked his voice, and he smiled again.
“The point is, I haven’t seen or fucked you in months, and I haven’t seen or fucked anyone else in months either.” He pressed his lips against mine. “And that, no one else will ever compare. I miss and I love you, and only you. And most of all, I miss fucking you.”
“You really could’ve left that last part out…”
“No, it was very much needed.” He wiped one of my stray tears away. “I love you, Gillian. No matter what, and I think we need to leave this party. Now.”
“Not until I ask you a few questions. I need to know what type of man I’m dealing with tonight.”
“The type that’s going to fuck you the second we make it to the elevator, the type that’s going to take you to his place after that and fuck you all over again.”
I blushed, but remained still. “Why did you take me off your visitors’ list at the hospital?”
“I didn’t want you to see me that way,” he said, looking genuine. “Plus, you’d already been there two weeks in a row and I was fine. I wanted you to worry about yourself.”
“Are you the anonymous person who’s been upgrading all my flights to first class for all my recent book signings?”
“Of course not,” he said, smirking. “Only someone who still loves you would do something like that.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“You’re very welcome. Is that the end of your questions?”
“No, I have two more.”
“I’ll answer one more.”
“Fine. Is this the part where you propose?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He pressed his mouth against mine and kissed me so hard and reckless that I nearly lost my balance. Then he squeezed my hand and began to lead me toward the elevator. “This is the part where we start a new chapter, one we can write together.”
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The End
Want more Jake & Gillian?
What about a new, naughty steamy novella?
If you want more of their story, there’s a special bonus epilogue on my blog! I’ve also penned an erotic and thrilling trilogy for Gillian’s best friend, Meredith: The Empire of Lies trilogy. You can access both below!
Mister Weston (Turbulence) Extended Epilogue
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The Empire of Lies trilogy
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Oh! And while you’re here, be sure to check out CAN I COME OVER? It’s my latest steamy novella and it was a TON of fun to write!
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You can one-click it by tapping here or the cover below:
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2021
Copyright © 2016 by Whitney Gracia Williams.
This title was previously published as “My Last Resolution: A Novella” & “The Layover” & “The Night I Met You” Copyright © 2015
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior permission of the author.
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Cover design by Najla Qamber of Najla Qamber Designs
For Nicole London.
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How you put up with me as your BFF I’ll never know.
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Thanks for keeping me in line. Well, trying to. :-)
Synopsis
Eleven million reasons to leave.
Zero reasons to stay.
Paris Weston is tired of all the broken promises her boyfriend has given her over the years.
Instead of showing up to their ‘secret’ engagement party, she shows up to the airport—ready and willing to go wherever the next flight is bound.
Determined to get lost in another life, she's certain that a week or two away will solve all of her problems.
Until she never makes it to her final destination.
Until the sexy, dirty-mouthed stranger who sits next to her on the plane changes everything.
And the unintended layover leaves her never wanting to return home…
A Note from Whitney G.
Dear Awesome Reader,
Thank you so much for picking up The Layover! This steamy getaway story was the first novella I ever published, and I can’t wait for you to dive in!
If you want to be the first to learn of my upcoming releases, sales, and special things that I only offer to my readers, be sure to sign up for my Exclusive F.L.Y. List. (F.L.Y. = Effin Love You. Because whether you love or hate this story, I still love you for giving it a chance!)
Sincerely,
Prologue
Eleven.
Not ten. Not twenty. Eleven.
Ever since I was a little girl, my mom would force my sister and me to list our resolutions at the end of the year. She’d tell us to fold them up and carry them in our pockets as a reminder, and to make sure that the last one (“lucky number eleven”) was the most important one of all.
I never understood the purpose behind those resolutions, and in the early years, I’d do it just to make her shut up. I’d write things like: “Stop telling Mom that she gets on my nerves.” “Learn how to dropkick the boy who always pops my bra straps.” “Steal better snacks from the cafeteria at lunchtime.”