Only you | Derek Morgan

Oh my god, Layla. It's you!

L A Y L A ' S P O V

If I didn't already believe Rossi was boujee as fuck, this party definitely really proves it.

He has completely transformed and decorated his back yard for the party with a laminate dance floor, mountains of bottles of champagne that are older than me, balloons that probably cost a couple months of my rent, tables of fancy cheeses, French breads, and olives. I can only imagine the firework scene that's going to go off at midnight. Even the wine I'm drinking feels too fancy for me.

But this party is so beautiful that I feel bad that I'm counting down the minutes until Derek and I can slip out unnoticed.

Which should be pretty easy because there's a lot more people here than I expected. Basically our whole building and some because everyone brought their significant others. As they should to enjoy their new years, but that doesn't mean I'm not jealous of all the couples around while Derek and I stare at each other from across the room, wishing that could be us.

I really don't like this anymore. I think Derek and I seriously need to consider how we're going to deal with this. We've already had this conversation many times, and every time we went around in circles and never really got anywhere.

But to be honest, I only see one way out of this situation and when it comes down to it, I know what I'm going to have to do. My priorities have completely changed since our relationship started.

But there's no way that can be dealt with tonight, so I head to the drinks table and I pour myself another glass of the fancy wine and try to hide the fact that I really wish I took Derek up on his offer to stay in tonight.

"You look so beautiful tonight."

I turn to see Brad who works on the third floor being the barer of that unwanted compliment. I can see the gold band on his ring finger, can't he?

I clear my throat to direct his focus to me rather than my chest. "Thanks but my eyes are up here and your wife is over there." I pat my hand to his shoulder. "She deserves better, Brad. I hope you know that."

I roll my eyes when I walk away. Men.

I head over to the patio couch around the fire pit and sit down beside Averie, who is showing her sonogram photos to JJ and Emily.

"I'm so excited for you guys," JJ grins, looking at the photos. "How far along are you?"

Averie's lips fold into a thin line. "However many weeks ago Halloween night was."

"No way," JJ laughs over the rim of her wine glass. "The bar?"

"With Spencer in the grandma costume?" Emily snickers. "Priceless."

"That's twice now it's been drunk in a bathroom," Averie says, narrowing her eyes. "It's like Spencer's planning it."

The cheers and laughs from the dance floor catch my attention while their conversation fades into the background and I look over to see Penelope whirling around with Aidan, Jack and Henry. With the amount of champagne flutes I've seen pass through her hands tonight, I'm surprised she's on the dance floor and not the bathroom floor.

But eventually Penelope saunters over to us and heaves a sigh when she sinks into the seat beside me. "These shoes are not made for dancing," She says, stretching out her legs and clicking her heels together like Dorothy trying to get home. "That's going to hurt when the alcohol wears off."