The look alone raised Charlotte’s defenses and told her that Layla had had no idea about Charlotte and Sutton’s personal relationship. Until now, anyway.
On one hand, Sutton’s romantic life wasn’t really something she needed to discuss with Layla. Charlotte knew that Sutton didn’t really consider her ex a friend or a confidante, so it didn’t have to mean anything.
On the other hand…
Charlotte was blessedly saved from having to think too much more about it as Layla’s voice became unquestionably sharp. “Are you and Sutton… working tonight?”
Charlotte arched an eyebrow back, not appreciating her tone. As far as Charlotte could see, it wasn’t Layla’s businesswhatthey were doing, especially given that Layla and Lucy were supposed to have left hours ago. “No.”
She wouldn’t lie to this woman; she had done nothing wrong and had absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. But she also would respect Sutton and not explicitly expound on their relationship to her ex.
Layla’s look turned even more dubious. “Huh.” She crossed her arms, studying Charlotte closely. “Now that I think about it, were you here on Thanksgiving? Lucy said she played chess withCharlotte, but honestly, I didn’t connect the dots.”
“I was.” She couldn’t help the thrill of the simple admittance.Yes, she had been here. Yes, she played chess with Lucy.
Yes, she had truly rekindled the sexual aspect of her relationship with Sutton that very night, in this very home.
“I hadn’t realized you were so close,” Layla muttered, her face looking nearly as sour now as Charlotte felt hers must be.
Charlotte found herself squaring off with Layla, here in Sutton’s foyer.
Layla studied her through narrowed eyes. “Sutton obviously told me months ago about writing your biography, but she never told me exactly how you ended up finding her to be your author. As far as I knew, she hadn’t been looking for new writing opportunities at the time.”
As far asCharlotteknew—via Sutton—Layla had never read Sutton’s writing, anyway. As her partner and spouse, she would verbally support Sutton or listen to Sutton talk about what she was working on, so she was notentirelynegligent. But Charlotte craved it. She loved when Sutton sent her the pieces of writing she was working on, and not at all because they were part of her biography.
It had been something she’d always loved about Sutton. Getting to explore those parts of her mind, the thoughts and expressions she was able to emote in words. Sutton hadalwaysdownplayed her talent, and she did it even now.
Only a week ago, as they’d been lying in Charlotte’s bed after a particularly intense round of fucking, after Sutton had made her come so hard she’dscreamed, she’d asked about what Sutton would write after she finished Charlotte’s book. The work on Charlotte’s book would be coming to an end soon; they had only a few weeks left before they would no longer have to meet, and then Sutton would finish up the writing on her own. It was all going far too fast for Charlotte’s liking.
Sutton had let out a quiet, cute laugh, completely at odds from the woman who had fucked Charlotte’s brains out only moments before. Then she’d said, “Uh, I probably won’t be writing anything. ‘Publish or perish’ is certainly real, but I think your biography is the last big project I’ll work on for a while.”
Charlotte let that settle in for a few seconds before she’d propped herself up on an elbow to be able to properly look at Sutton, still resting her other hand on Sutton’s chest. God, she loved the connection. “If that’s what you want to do, then okay. But, Sutton, you aresucha talented writer. I can’t help but think about how you had so many ideas and thoughts about ideas to write, even years ago.”
They didn’t often mention the past. They definitely didn’t mention things like Sutton telling Charlotte about her writing ideas and passions during private moments, moments that left Charlotte utterly riveted.
She felt Sutton’s heart beat a little faster under her hand as Sutton had stared at her with big, blue eyes, cheeks flushing. “I—that’s—I mean.” She cleared her throat before confessing, “I have been working on a book. I haven’t made any moves to even attempt to publish it,” she rushed to say. “It was just this idea I got last year. And I wrote a bit before shelving it, and it’s—it’s just a romance. Nothing big.”
“I bet it’s incredible.” Charlotte had never meant anything more.Suttonwas incredible.
“I don’t—” Sutton said, clearly starting to downplay herself, and Charlotte couldn’t abide it.
She’d tapped her fingers against Sutton’s chest. “Sutton, when I read myown lifein your words, I… I don’t know how you do it. Because you are writing all of the anecdotes and pieces that I have literally lived through, yet I can see them all through a different lens. It’s—” She let out a disbelieving chuckle. “I feel like I’m a protagonist of some sort. But it’s all because of the wordsyouwrote.”
Sutton had pulled Charlotte down, kissing her intently and passionately, then.
Charlotte blinked herself out of these thoughts as she circled back to Layla’s suspicious gaze. “She wasn’t looking.Isoughtherout.”
Layla hummed in acknowledgement before clearly attempting to ferret out more information. “And did that happen through some connection at Georgetown?”
She didn’t know what it was.
Maybe it was the way Layla folded her arms and stared at her, all traces of excitement to meet Senator Thompson gone, replaced with something far less enthusiastic in the face ofCharlotte Thompson, who was dating Sutton.
Maybe it was in the way Layla settled in with her back against the wall, looking so at home in a home she’d never lived in with Sutton. Her stance was decidedly territorial. As if she hadn’t been the one to treat Sutton terribly as she’d ended their relationship.
Maybe it was because she knew that in the time since Layla had left Sutton and pursued her own relationship, Sutton hadn’t really dated. Nothing close to as serious as they were, Charlotte knew, even though they hadn’t labelled what they were to one another. Maybe it was because of when Sutton had let out a dejected sigh, weeks ago, and expressed that she hated the times she had to spend with Layla and Arianne as a couple because of the way it made her feel. Like the time they’d talked about it months ago, when Sutton had said, so dejectedly, that she had just been a footnote to them.
Maybe it was because of that feeling that bubbled inside of her at Layla, at the attractive, successful surgeon who had cheated on and left Sutton, making her feel so much less than.
