Falling for You

by Bailey B

“Oh!” My cheeks heat. Thankfully they’re too burnt for Josh to see how red he’s made me. I’m sure Colson and his friends talk like this, just never around me. As for my friends, they’re a bunch of earth-loving, debate winning nerds. Pretty sure they’d self-combust if they replaced the human anatomy with slang words.

  Josh grows silent for a few minutes, which is fine by me because he makes me nervous in ways I didn’t realize were possible. I’ve felt the twisting of my stomach when it comes to public speaking, and had bile climb my throat before a test, but this is different. The knots in my stomach don’t twist, they flutter, and I can’t decide if I want Josh to go into the water with his friends or stay with me.

  “You don’t seem to be having too much fun.”

  I shake my head. “No, the beach isn’t really my thing. I have to be doing something or my mind wanders. Sitting still for hours like this is killing me.”

  Josh nods in understanding, while taking time to choose his words. “I work outside in the heat. It used to be just a few hours here and there, but since I graduated I have to be there six days a week at the crack of dawn until dusk. Weekends are a bit more flexible, but not by much. So, sitting in the sun is not exactly what I call fun either.”

  I wrack my brain, trying to think of a job that would require a maybe-twenty-year-old to work such crazy hours.

  I’ve got nothing.

  After a long stretch of silence, Josh asks, “Do you wanna get out of here?

  “Won’t your friends be mad?”

  He shakes his head and smirks. “If they need to leave, which I doubt, those guys can spend hours here and not bat an eye, everyone can fit in Kelly’s car. Besides, they’re used to me coming and going randomly. They know my hours are whacked and don’t think twice when I disappear.”

  I sit and think about Josh's words for a minute. Leaving Kelly might mean I won’t get asked to work with my aunt again this summer, but Kelly is at the beach with her friends. Friends that seem nice. How much trouble can she get into in a group in broad daylight?

  I nod, which earns me another gorgeous smile from Josh. He stands and points behind me. “I know a sandwich shop just about a block from here. We can walk there if you’re hungry.”

  “I’m not, but I don’t mind going if you are.”

  The Red Onion is a beach staple around here. Sure there are other sandwich shops on the strip across the street, but not one of them can make a lobster roll like Cooper Harris. That man knows his sandwiches, and burgers, and basically everything food related.

  The overhead bell chimes as I open the door. I hold it, letting Layla pass through then follow behind. I know she said she wasn’t hungry, but I’m hoping I can get her to at least try something.

  I made a horrible first impression last night. Even though I knew I’d eventually get a second chance because we live in a small town, I didn’t expect it to be so soon, with my last blunder so fresh.

  “Joshua Thomas.” Cooper extends his hand for our usual fist-bump. Before graduation, I was coming here at least once a week to grab a bite to eat and chill. Since taking over most of the responsibilities at my paw’s ranch, this is my first time making it out this way in weeks. “Long time, man. Where’ve you been hiding out?”

  “With Bret at Gainesville University this past year, and Paw’s radiation therapy, I had to pick up the slack on the ranch.”

  Paw has about eighty acres out in West Fellsmere. We used to have more land, but back when he was a boy his parents had to sell some of it.

  I’m glad.

  Eighty acres is too much for just Paw and me to handle and he refused to hire a day worker when Bret went off to school. That put me between a rock and a hard place, having to decide between my family and college after graduation. There was no choice, not really.

  Family comes first.

  Always.

  “That’s right. I forgot he left.” Cooper flips his notepad open and grabs a pen. “Sorry you're stuck, man, but what can I get you?”

  “The usual, lobster roll, chips, and a large sweet tea.”

  Cooper scribbles my order then looks up. “And for the lady?”

  Layla shakes her head and smiles politely. Her cheeks flush red as she says, “Nothing for me, thanks.”

  “Dude.” Cooper drops his pen, sets his palms on the counter, then leans forward. He’s a big guy, standing at almost six foot-three and built like a brick house. Under the wrong circumstances, Cooper could be scary, but most of the time he’s a giant softie. “Is your girl too good for my food?”

  Layla’s blue eyes widen. She sucks in an audible breath, the red hue that colors her cheeks creeping down her neck when she shakes her head. “No! Never. I’m just not hungry.”

  Cooper narrows his eyes and stares Layla down for a solid three seconds before letting out a boisterous laugh. “Lighten up, sweetheart. I’m kidding.”

  Layla exhales, her shoulders rolling forward, and chuckles. It dawns on me that she was nervous, possibly scared I’d let someone hurt her. The thought lights me up and makes me sick to the stomach at the same time. What kind of assholes does she hang out with?

  I pay Cooper then lead Layla to a corner table by the window. She takes the chair opposite me and smiles nervously. “So.”

  “So.” I tilt my straw in her direction, offering some tea, but she shakes her head.

  Layla fidgets with her hands under the table, her nervousness given away by her reflection in the window. I like that she’s nervous, it means I’m having an effect on her and that there might be a chance I could make up for being an ass last night.

  “Here.” Cooper sets a bag of chips in front of Layla, while handing me my basket. “Only a dick makes his date watch him eat.”

  “You’re a jerk,” I say at the same time Layla adds, “We’re just friends.”

  I should be licking my wounds at the blow of being just friends, but I’m happy. Last night, I was nothing more than the horny cowboy. Today, we’re friends. In my book, this is making progress in leaps and bounds.

  I pick my sandwich up and take a bite. It’s fucking heaven in my mouth. I don’t know what Mamma T is going to do when Cooper leaves for the military next month.

  “I’m sorry,” Layla says nervously. “Was this supposed to be a date?”

  I shake my head and take another bite. “Can’t be on a date since you have that boyfriend.”

  I wink and Layla’s cheeks flush. She stares at her bag of chips for a few seconds then pulls it apart at the seam. I watch her inspect a chip, taking in every detail as if this is the first time she’s seen one. She puts the crispy potato slice in her mouth, closes her eyes, and smiles as she swallows.

  “Good?”

  Layla’s eyes snap open. Her cheeks flush again and I love how easy it is to read this girl. She’s like an open book. It’s refreshing. The girls around here try to hide what they want, play the mysterious game that’s nothing but bullshit. They want one thing and one thing only. Sex.

  “I...uh...have to go to the bathroom.” Layla looks around, a frown falling upon her face. “Is there a bathroom here?”

  “Cooper!” I holler. Layla jumps and I try to hide my smirk. I didn’t mean to scare her, but discovering how easily she turns red is amusing. I might make a game out of it, see how many times I can make her blush.

  He comes around the corner, a cocky grin on his face. “You rang, my dear?”

  I flip him the bird while Layla asks, “Is there a bathroom I can use?”

  Cooper nods and points to the kitchen entrance behind the counter. “Around the corner. You can’t miss it.”

  Layla follows his directions and disappears deeper into the shop. Cooper plops into her chair, across from me, and shakes his head. “I know that look, don’t do it.”

  “Do what?”

  Cooper’s smile falls, his face becoming grimly serious. “Fall for a girl who won’t love you back.”

  I laugh because I have no intention of falling in love with Layla no-la
st-name. I just want to get to know her and maybe have a little fun before she goes back to Georgia. No harm, no foul. Love isn’t even in the same ballgame. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  Layla comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, a frown tugging at her pretty lips. “My aunt texted. I need to get back to Orlando.”

  “Well, that sucks.” A frown of my own tugs at my lips, but I hold it back. “Can I take you back to Kelly’s house to get your car?”

  Layla nods and I slide my newly empty food basket towards Cooper, who shoots me a sideways glance. The trashcan is less than two feet to my right, but he isn’t doing anything right now, and I like giving him a hard time.

  I meet Layla at the checkout counter and drop a five dollar bill in the tip jar. “Later, Cooper.”

  Layla waves goodbye and we walk to my truck in silence. Judging by the worry wrinkles taking up residence between her brows, something is weighing heavily on her mind.

  “Everything okay?” I ask, opening the passenger door for her.

  She looks up at me briefly, smiles, and nods. I don’t push the subject. Women are like vaults and won’t tell you what’s wrong until they’re ready.

  Luke Combs’ latest album fills the silence on the ride to Kelly’s house. Layla stares out the window, twisting her phone between her fingers until we pull into Kelly’s neighborhood. I put the truck in park in the driveway while Layla leans forward and turns down the radio. “Thank you for today, Josh. I had a great time.”

  I smile, feeling oddly happy at the sound of my name rolling off those lips. “Think we can do it again next weekend?”

  “I… um.” Layla looks down at her hand as she squeezes her phone again until the whites of her knuckles show. “I’m going back to Peach Tree on Monday. Tomorrow is my last day in Florida and there’s this fundraiser I’ve got to help with, so…”

  It feels like the wind has been knocked out of me. I was hoping for a few weeks to give Layla reason to talk to me after she leaves, and maybe even come back again. Now, I’ve only got minutes. “Can I call you sometime?”

  Layla nods and I hand my phone over to her. She types in her number then presses a quick kiss on my cheek. “Bye, Josh.”

  5 Months Later

  “Layla?” someone asks from behind me.

  My name doesn’t immediately register, because everyone I’ve worked with this summer calls me Miss Price. I keep working, making sure each item on the checklist on my clipboard is completed, like I have for every fundraiser since returning to Orlando in May.

  My parents weren’t happy when I broke off my arranged engagement with Ashley, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t commit myself to a life of fake smiles, Prozac, and a loveless relationship. I’m nineteen. I want to be at college, breaking out of my shell, and learning to live on my own.

  Our compromise was that I would spend the summer working for my aunt and, if I can make it without asking for help, Dad will pay for me to go to college. Financially, I’ve been cut off, with the exception of having a safe place to live, forced to survive on the nine-dollars and fifty-cent an hour wage I’m paid bi-weekly until classes start next week. Then, I get a monthly allowance of five-hundred dollars.

  It sucks, but struggling to make it on my own this summer is better than settling for a life half-lived.

  Today’s event room is large, chosen to seat the two-hundred guests that have paid a pretty penny for an adequate dinner. After dinner is the silent auction. The socialites my aunt has rounded up will bid on various donated packages, committing themselves to pay a minimum of double the face-value.

  Why?

  So they can feel good about themselves. Money, while a necessary evil in life, corrupts the soul. The people who have it complain about a six-dollar latte, but then spend three-hundred dollars on a pair of shoes. All the while the common working class scrapes to get by.

  And then you have Aunt Tricia, who refuses to spend an unnecessary penny, choosing to exist like she’s struggling when her friends aren’t around, but throws money around like it’s confetti once she has an audience.

  “Layla!” the female voice calls again. I draw my brows together and look over my shoulder. I scan the room, quickly finding an excited girl with long blue dreads setting a box of what I’m assuming are the hors d’oeuvres we ordered on one of the buffet tables.

  “Hattie?” I ask, completely dumbfounded. Of all the people to run into, I never expected to see anyone from Sebastian. “What are you doing here?”

  Hattie finishes setting her boxes on the table and strides across the room to me. She holds her arms out, pulling me into a tight hug before asking, “I’m delivering food for my dad’s catering company. What are you doing here? I thought you were in Georgia.”

  “I was. I came back a few months ago, after graduation.” I hug the clipboard to my chest, nervous flutters turning into anxious needles. My shift is officially over in thirty minutes. For now, though, I’m still on the clock and Aunt Tricia hates fraternizing on company time. “I live here now and work for my aunt’s crowdsourcing company.”

  “Shut up! Your aunt is Tricia Collins?” Hattie facepalms her forehead and looks around, as if seeing the room for the first time. “How did I not know that?

  “Why would you? I didn’t tell anybody who she was when I was here for Spring Break.”

  “True, but I’ve pretty much cyber stalked you on Instagram since you left.” She pulls her phone out of her back pocket and shows me my Instagram feed.

  I click the home button and find her profile. It’s filled with pictures of her and Landon, mostly at parties. I hand her phone back quickly. I don’t want her to figure out that I was looking for a picture of Josh. “You’re 888bigbootyqueen?”

  “Do you not look at the people who follow you?” Hattie chuckles and shoves her phone into her back pocket.

  I shake my head and check my watch. We’ve been talking for five minutes, and I still have a whole column of things to do on my paper before heading home to get changed.

  I’ve made it a point to attend the functions I’m not working. For one, being in a controlled situation has helped ease my social anxiety, breaking me out of my shell a little. I can pick who I sit with, let them guide the conversations, and have the excuse of needing to help if I get overwhelmed. It’s been good for me and I’ve met some amazing people in the process.

  “I can’t believe I ran into you,” Hattie says, more to herself than me. “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Oh, um, I’ve got a few things to finish here.” I wiggle my clipboard, hoping Hattie will get the hint that I need to get back to work. She nods, smiling, waiting for me to say something more. “I thought about attending tonight’s event.”

  “Oh.” Hattie frowns and pulls a rubber band off her wrist and ties up her long blue strands. “That sucks. I was hoping you’d ride back to Vero with me. It’s Landon’s twenty-fourth birthday. He’s been celebrating all week, but the actual party is…” She looks at her watch and chuckles. “Well, now, but the party is going to last all night. He probably hasn’t even noticed I’m not there yet.”

  “Layla!” my aunt barks and the muscles in my back tense. She strolls across the room, head held high, lips pressed tight. “Have you finished that list?”

  I clutch the clipboard to my chest again and shake my head. “Not yet, but I’m close.”

  Aunt Tricia’s lips tilt down into a frown. She doesn’t like leaving things to the last minute. We still have just under an hour until the event starts, but if things aren’t finished at least a half-hour before the start time, she freaks out. “That’s not like you, child.”

  “I’ll get it done before I leave, I promise, even if it’s on my own time.”

  “Of course you will.” Aunt Tricia turns her attention to Hattie. “Who are you?”

  “Hattie Reynolds, ma’am.” Hattie holds out her hand.

  Aunt Tricia takes it and forces a smile. “Of course you are.” She turns back to me and points
her red painted nail at my clipboard. “I don’t pay you to talk with your friends. Finish that list in the next fifteen minutes or you’re fired.”

  Shit. I’ve worked my ass off all summer. I’m not about to screw up my future a week before my life starts. Dad agreed to pay for two classes, to start. I have to finish with straight As if I want another tuition stipend next semester. But all of that goes down the drain if I get fired today. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Crap,” Hattie mumbles with a frown. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine, but I should go.” I look down at the fifteen items left, knowing that I could probably finish half the list if I ran, but not all of it. Tears well in my eyes at the realization that my one chance to prove I deserve to choose how my life should be lived is shot.

  “Wait!” Hattie yells, skipping to be at my side. “Let me help.”

  “I don’t think so.” I skim over the name tags on the welcome table and check them against my tally sheet, making sure no one was missed. Check.

  “Please. I feel bad. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” Hattie claps her hands together under her chin and gives me the puppy dog eyes.

  I sigh, having lost three minutes and only completing one task. “Alright.” I scribble four items on the bottom of my paper and tear it off. “These are pretty self explanatory. We have twelve minutes. Hurry.”

  Eleven minutes and thirty two seconds later, the list is complete. Hattie walks around the room one last time, double checking that all the place settings are straight, while I approach my aunt.

  “Delegation.” Aunt Tricia smirks and holds her hand out for my clipboard. I hand it over and she glances at the list, making sure each item was indeed finished. “You might just make it in this world. Will we be seeing you tonight?”

  “Actually...” Hattie steps up from behind me and links her arm through mine. “I was hoping to steal Layla away for the weekend.”

  Aunt Tricia’s eye twitches. “Oh?”

  Hattie turns her attention to me. “I just did you a solid. The least you can do is come help me celebrate.” She claps her hands together under her chin again.