Falling for You

by Bailey B

  “Four is good. I’ll text you my address in the morning.”

  “Perfect.” Layla reaches out and touches my arm. “You should get going, Josh. You have a long drive ahead of you.”

  I step in front of Layla, one leg on either side of her. She looks up at me, sucking in an audible breath. I thread my fingers through the hair at the base of her neck and press my mouth to hers for a quick kiss. I’d love to deepen it and fully taste those lips, but I don’t think she would appreciate me making out with her at her job.

  “Goodnight, beautiful. See you tomorrow.”

  My stomach feels like it’s on a rollercoaster, lifting high into my throat as I get closer to Josh’s place, then dropping down into my seat as I pass it. I’ve driven down his dirt road, passed the turn off, then circled back twice, trying to decide if sleeping at his house is a good idea.

  I’m equally excited and terrified about tonight. I know Josh mentioned me staying for the weekend, but I doubt that will happen. One night is more than enough to get a feel for what I’m doing because, honestly, I have no clue.

  I spend my days occupying my mind with my classes and fundraising stuff, and even then he sneaks into my thoughts. Nights are the worst. I’ve overanalyzed everything Josh said and did last weekend. I found his Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok accounts, straddling the line between curious and stalker more than once.

  All so I can convince myself that having these feelings for Josh are a bad idea. I don’t need any distractions, and he is proving to be a major one.

  So why can’t I stop thinking about him?

  After two more drive-bys, I finally turn down the bumpy driveway. I pass the first house on the property, only because Josh told me to do so, and follow a narrow tire-track path through the grass.

  Everything about what I’m doing feels wrong. My knee bounces as I look around, waiting for someone to jump out from behind a bush with a shotgun and yell at me to get off the grass.

  Against my better judgement, I stay on the path, turning around a large barn, and am met with a cute, log cabin-style house. When Josh said he’d be sleeping on the couch, I assumed he lived in a tiny cottage like Hattie. This place might not be some luxurious eight-bedroom home like Aunt Tricia’s house, but it ain’t tiny, either.

  I park my Jetta beside Josh’s truck, feeling slightly better now that I recognize the vehicle, but can’t force myself to move. I’m out of my comfort zone. The only guy I’ve ever been with was Ashley and I wouldn't exactly call what we had a relationship.

  We didn’t date, unless you count social gatherings at the country club with our parents. We didn’t go out together without my brother as a chaperone. We didn’t do anything normal teenagers do because, for ninety percent of our relationship, we didn’t like each other. We were essentially arranged to be married and forced to get along.

  Not once did I feel the nervous flutters wreaking havoc inside me when we were together. I never lost sleep, wondering what Ashley was doing or who he was with. And I damn sure didn’t have an erotic dream and wake up wondering if it was real or not.

  All of this can’t be normal. Maybe I’m getting sick and should go home. Maybe…

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  I jump in my seat and look up. Josh is at my window, lips curling into a smile that reaches his eyes. I click the unlock button and he swings my door open.

  “Are you gonna come in, or sit here all night?” He extends his hand to help me out of my car and into a bear hug. Strong arms wrap around my waist, pressing me into his body.

  Josh takes a step back, dropping his arms, and smiles. There’s a burning sensation of anticipation in my chest, and I find myself blushing again. I press the button on my key fob to open my trunk and grab my overflowing backpack, but Josh immediately takes it from me, swinging it over his shoulder as if it’s an empty pillowcase.

  He clears his throat and glances over at his house. “Come on.”

  “This is beautiful,” I tell him looking around the living room. The walls are wood paneled like the outside, with large windows letting in the Florida sun. The floors are white tiled, making the room even brighter. The house feels warm and cozy and all I want to do is curl up on the sofa with a cup of coffee and a book.

  “Thanks. It was my paw’s place before he passed.” Josh kicks his boots off by the door. I reach down and unclasp the strap of my sandals, setting my shoes beside his. “I’ll show you to your room.”

  I follow, but stop to look at a picture in the hallway. Josh doubles back to stand beside me, with a mile wide grin on his face. “That was a good day. That’s Paw, and that’s Bret, my brother.” He then points to the picture of a kid who’s missing his two front teeth, holding a fish bigger than his arm. “The stud with the fish is me. I fought that beast for ten minutes to reel it in.” He chuckles at the memory. “No sooner did the flash of Paw’s camera go off did the fish wiggle out of my hands and flop off the side of the boat.”

  Josh laughs again, then opens the second door on the left. The room is white walled instead of wood, but the bed frame and dresser are a dark oak, tying it to the rest of the house. To my surprise, like the house, his room is spotless. No dirty clothes on the floor or cups on the nightstand. There’s not even a speck of dust on the ceiling fan.

  “The house has three bedrooms.” Josh sets my bag on the bed then leans against the footboard. “My room, an office, and Paw’s room. I don’t go into his room though, it’s too hard.”

  I sit beside Josh, and take his hand in mine. I might not know him well, but I know what suffering looks like, and he looks like he’s hurting. “Were you close?”

  “Yeah. My dad wasn't around, he bailed sometime after I was born. Paw took us in. Built this house for Mom, then moved us to the main house when Bret started middle school.” Josh falls back onto the bed and stares at the ceiling. “I miss him.”

  “I’m sorry.” I know apologizing for someone’s death never helps, but I don’t know what to say. I feel bad, having opened a wound that doesn’t seem old.

  “It’s life,” Josh says with a sigh. “You live and then you die.” He pushes himself off the bed. I stand as he steps towards the door, not sure if I should give him space or follow. “I hope you brought something nice to wear.”

  “I did.” Mamma taught me to always be prepared. While Josh and his friends seem like the jeans-and-T-shirt kind of people, I grabbed a dress and some heels. Just in case.

  “Good, we are going to dinner. Then, if you’d like, I thought we’d hit up Cowboy’s.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A bar on the outskirts of town. There’s usually a band on Friday night. I thought it could be fun.” Josh reaches out and takes my hand. He pulls me against his chest, his other arm wrapping around my waist.

  I look up into his eyes, feeling my pulse everywhere. This is what I’ve been worried about, what would happen if we’re alone together. In a house. That has a bedroom. I don’t think I’d sleep with him, but the way my head’s swimming, I can’t say for certain, especially if I have a few drinks tonight.

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “I’m glad you’re here.” Josh threads his fingers through my hair, careful not to pull my roots. He dips his head, lips pressing against mine until I’m breathless with a flurry of butterflies in my chest. He grips my hip, fingers digging into my skin. It hurts, but it’s a good kind of hurt, the kind that makes me moan.

  Josh backs us against the wall. His hands fall to my thighs and he lifts me. He nips at the nape of my neck, biting hard enough to make me gasp. He trails kisses up my neck and sucks my earlobe into his mouth.

  “Josh,” I whisper, never having felt anything like this before. The few times Ashley's lips were on me, they never strayed from my mouth. Even if they had, I doubt he could send my body into tiny tremors like this.

  Josh’s tongue brushes across my bottom lip before sweeping into my mouth again. I grip him tighter with my legs, feeling myself coming undone. My
hips rock on instinct and Josh grunts. He pulls his lips away and leans his forehead against mine. “Fuck.”

  I untangle my legs from around his body and Josh takes a step back. “I… um… I should probably get ready.”

  Waiting on the couch while Layla gets dressed is a strange type of torture. Knowing she’s naked in my room, and I can’t touch her, drives me crazy. Trying to distract myself with the nonsense on TV is pointless because Layla’s naked body is all I can think about.

  When she steps into the living room, my breath stops short. A black dress hugs her chest down to her waist, spilling out over her hips, stopping near her knees. She does a little spin and the hem of her skirt crawls dangerously high on her sun-kissed thighs.

  I grasp Layla’s elbow and pull her onto the couch. Her legs settle on each side of my hips and I set my hands on her waist. Layla bites her lip and it takes everything I’ve got not to suck it into my mouth again. I lean forward, my lips brushing against her ear. “You look stunning.”

  Layla giggles, pinching her shoulder and cheek together. “Thanks.”

  I kiss her cheek once, but stop there. We have reservations at six-thirty. Things got hot and heavy faster than I expected in the bedroom. I can’t guarantee if we start again, we’ll stop in time. “We should probably get going. It’s about a forty-five minute drive to the restaurant.”

  Layla’s heels click against the linoleum floor of Thai restaurant I’ve brought us to. Thai Heaven is a mom-and-pop type place I found in high school after a football game senior year. The food is cheap, but amazing. You get more on your plate for fifteen dollars than you would a chain restaurant paying more than double.

  Trong is usually the waitress on duty, she works the front while her husband, Kim, cooks, but there’s a new girl working the floor I haven’t seen before. The girl is pretty, but she doesn’t hold a candle to Layla.

  Layla chews on her bottom lip as she scans the menu. I stare at her, feeling a nervousness I don’t think I’ll ever get used to. “What do you want?”

  “I have no clue.” She turns the page, finding the curry options. “What do you suggest?”

  “I like the yellow curry.” I reach over and point to where it is on the menu. “It’s got a little kick to it, but isn’t bad. Do you like spicy food?”

  She shakes her head. I flip her back a page and point to my other favorite dish. “You might like this one. The sweet and sour sauce is out of this world. I usually get the tofu to go with it, but they have pork and chicken too.”

  Our waitress comes back to the table with her order pad in hand. She bats her eyelashes, an inviting smile on her face. “Do you know what you want?”

  “I think I need a few more minutes.” Layla raises her gaze to meet our waitress’ but the girl has set her sights on me.

  Our waitress pushes her tits closer to my face and slips a paper, presumably with her number on it, into my shirt pocket. “Whatever you need, baby, I’m more than happy to give it to you.”

  “Mmm-hmmm.” I turn my gaze back to the menu and stare at it like it’s made of gold. I don’t know who this woman is, but I’m not interested. As soon as she walks away, I take the paper out of my pocket, crumble it into a ball, and drop it on the floor.

  Layla eyes me curiously, the gears visibly grinding inside her precious mind. “Did she give you her number?”

  “Don’t know.” I shrug and close my menu. “I didn’t look.”

  Layla’s jaw falls open, like she’s going to say something, but changes her mind and snaps it shut. She takes another minute to read over the dinner options, then closes her menu.

  “You know what you want?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I think I’m going to try the tofu thing you suggested.” She sighs, then frowns. “I wish I had sweet tea.”

  “Be right back.” I grab her menu and mine then walk to the back of the restaurant, towards the kitchen. I push the swinging door open and, as expected, Kim is at the stove.

  “Josh,” he says with a grin, tossing some vegetables in his wok. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m good. Real good.” I’ve come here once a week for the past three years, building a relationship with Trong and Kim. Back then, they were a new restaurant and had time to chat. Now, they’re slammed six days a week. I don’t want to take up too much of his time. “Listen, um, your new waitress gave me her number in front of my date.”

  “A date?” Kim grins and pushes the swinging door open to peer into the dinning room. “The girl in the black?”

  “Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck. There’s only one girl sitting by herself at a two person table. It isn’t hard to figure out who I’m here with, but that doesn’t make me any less anxious. “That’s her.”

  “She’s hot.” Kim walks back to the stove and starts plaiting someone’s order. “I’ll have a word with Tamra. Do you know what you want to eat?”

  “Yeah. Yellow curry and tofu sweet and sour.” I grab a pen from the table by the door and write our order on a scrap piece of paper. “Thanks, Kim.”

  “Anything for our best customer.” Kim sets the finished plates on a tray then begins working on his next order.

  “Hey, do you mind if I grab my girl a sweet tea?”

  “Sure. Go for it.”

  I leave the kitchen and walk behind the bar. My waitress, who I’m assuming is Tamra, corners me as I’m filling Layla’s cup. “What are you doing?”

  “Kim wants you.” I walk around the counter without giving her a second glance.

  “You can’t do that!” Tamra yells, but I ignore her.

  Back at the table, I set Layla’s tea in front of her. She looks up at me, wide-eyed, with a grin. “Where’d you go?”

  I pull my chair out and sit again. “I’m friends with the owner. We won't have any more problems tonight.”

  Layla smiles again and takes a sip of her tea. It mustn't be sweet enough because she opens a packet of sugar and dumps it in. Tamra drops our plates on the table a few minutes later and walks away without saying a word. Layla picks up her fork and dives in. She looks up every now and then and smiles, but I can’t help feeling the tension build between us.

  “I’m not very good at this,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. “To be honest, I haven’t taken a girl on a proper date in years.”

  Layla’s green eyes widen. She swallows the bite in her mouth and asks, “Really?”

  “There hasn’t been anyone I’ve wanted to get to know outside of the bedroom since high school.” I grimace, realizing that sounded better in my head than it did out loud.

  “But you’ve had girlfriends before, right?” She leans back in her chair, a tiny crease forming between her brows.

  “Define ‘girlfriend’.”

  Layla looks at me, horrified, and I chuckle. “Don’t judge me. Those girls knew from day one that I didn’t want anything serious. If they got hurt, then that’s on them.”

  Her eyes narrow. I can practically see the gears turning behind them. “And what do you want from me?”

  That’s the question of the day. What do I want from Layla?

  I’ll tell you what I don’t want, I don’t want her with anybody else, and that’s a first. Normally, I couldn’t give two shits about what a girl does or who they do it with, but the thought of any man’s hands on her makes me see red. “Truthfully, I don’t know.”

  “Huh,” she says, taking a bite of rice and vegetables.

  I drop my gaze, waiting for her to say something other than “huh.” Seconds turn into minutes, the silence eating away at me. I’m dying to know, what does she want out of this?

  The front parking lot of Cowboy’s is packed. Josh drives around the back of the building and makes his own parking space in a vacant lot beside a few other trucks. Never in my life have I been with someone who makes their own parking space. Ashley always valeted his cars, and so did my mother.

  Getting out, I wobble. My heels sink into the grass with each step. Josh must see me struggling becau
se he puts a supportive arm around my waist, ushering me out of the grassy lot and to the sidewalk. Nestled close to his body, the scent of his cologne is heavenly. It’s the kind of smell that makes me want to bury my nose in his chest and not come up for air. I don’t, but kind of want to.

  “Sorry.” Josh shoots me an apologetic look as we approach the front of the building. Landon, Hattie, and Sam are huddled in a group, likely waiting for our arrival. “Sam must have opened his big mouth about us coming here tonight.”

  “It’s fine.” I was enjoying our alone time, but being around his friends is fun, too. They’re nothing like my friends back home. We’d get together after school to study sometimes, but we’ve never hung out. Josh’s hand slides from around my waist, down my arm, until our fingers tangle together.

  “’Sup, man?” Landon, Hattie’s boyfriend, holds his hand up.

  “Not much.” Josh high fives Landon, then slaps Sam across the stomach, who then punches him in the shoulder. Boys.

  A big man with a black shirt that says bouncer blocks the front entrance, carding people before allowing them inside. I dig through my purse and I realize I left my fake ID…somewhere, hopefully in my apartment and not in my jewelry box in Georgia. Out of time and options, I hold out my real ID and extend my hand. The bouncer puts a big black X on it with a permanent marker.

  Josh chuckles, his brown eyes twinkling with flirtation. He leans in, his breath tickling my ear, and says, “Don’t worry, beautiful. I’m not drinking tonight. I’ll get you whatever you want.”

  Cowboys is nothing like the nightclubs I’ve been to in Atlanta. Those are tiered, with bars lining the wall, and the rest of it is open space. Music is funneled through speakers, each floor having it’s own theme, and even though I've only been twice and had been chaperoned by my brother, I had a great time.

  This building is one large space, divided into three sections. To my left is an L-shaped bar with a dozen or so hightop chairs. On my right is a game area with four red pool tables, three dart boards, and a sign pointing towards the bathrooms. Then, straight ahead, is a stage and a dance floor that’s full of people in boots and jeans. Great. Not only am I the only one of us with the black X of doom on my hand, but I’m overdressed.