The Girl In The Dirty Shirt

Chapter 4

I woke up the next morning still in my clothes from the day before. After my breakdown I crawled into bed and just fell asleep. I rolled over looking at the clock, it was eleven. I was supposed to be at McLead's again today for two, but I decided after yesterday, I was taking the day off.

I called the office and left a message in Mr. McLead's mailbox and hung up setting the phone on its base on the night stand before rolling over on my back.

I played with the buttons on my shirt, Liam's shirt while staring at the ceiling. I don't know why I was so fucking hung up on this guy. I jumped when my phone rang on the night stand.

I turned over looking at the caller ID, Mr. McLead. I sighed answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Lyla Thomas please"

"This is" I confirmed rolling my eyes, the idiot had called my phone, why would someone else answer

"Lyla, Charles McLead"

I hummed in acknowledgment

"I'm returning your call" he stated

"I didn't ask you to; I just wanted you to know I wasn't coming in today."

"Are you ill?"

"Yes" I lied

"You don't sound ill"

I sighed. "Sir, with all due respect, I have forty six hours of sick time, and I'd like to take a personal day."

I hung up before he could respond and put my phone back in its place. Before I even got a chance to turn over it rang again. I rolled my eyes turning over ignoring it; I knew exactly who it would be.

After a minute the room fell silent again and I curled under the blankets. I sighed staring at the wall. I'd never had a problem with my bed before, but now it felt...huge. I was very aware of how alone I felt, how alone I was lying there.

I closed my eyes as I heard the phone ring behind me for a second time. I ignored it and drifted off into sleep.

I opened my eyes hearing footsteps making their way up the hall. I frowned turning to look over my shoulder. Liam stood in my bedroom doorway in a leather jacket and a pair of jeans. A pair of sunglasses covered his eyes; his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"What's the story, Lyla?" He asked leaning against the door frame.

I blinked sleepily. "How did you get in here?"

He shrugged walking deeper into the room. "I've been here."

I turned over on my back as he slid a hand across the top of my dresser just watching me. "What are you talking about?" I asked as I sat up, leaning on one arm.

"In your head" he confirmed with that smug smirk; and I'd noticed he'd had on the shirt I'd fallen asleep in.

I looked down at myself realizing I had no longer had clothes on, the white bed sheets pooled in my lap. I pulled them up around myself with my free hand and just stared at the man standing at the foot of my bed.

"Admit it," he continued "You can't stop thinking about me."

I said nothing just watched as he walked around to the side of the bed before he sat down on its edge. I turned to look at him, still quiet.

"Admit it" he repeated as he leaned forward.

I could see his eyes watching me through his blue tinted sunglasses. I couldn't take my eyes off his lips.