LAYLA’S POV
“Better,” I manage a small smile for him. “A lot better.”
“That’s good to hear.” He hands the tray to Edward, who takes it with one hand. “Quick healing.”
“Thanks, Nicholas.”
He gives Edward a pointed look that I can’t decipher, then leaves.
Johnny opens his mouth like he wants to say something else but Edward slams the door in all their faces. Muffled protests erupt immediately from the other side.
“That was rude!” Wendy yells.
Edward turns back toward me with the tray like nothing happened.
“You didn’t have to shut them out,” I mumble.
“They’ll survive.”
He settles onto the bed beside me and sets the tray across his lap.
And then the aroma hits me.
Oh.
Oh, moon goddess.
It’s creamy garlic parmesan pasta with grilled chicken, still steaming, the sauce rich and bu
