by Amali Rose
Layla
Michael Bradshaw is talking to me. We’re gathered around a table, tucked away in a quiet corner of Hound Dog, and he is literally ignoring everyone else, showering me with his undivided attention. It’s weird, and I don’t feel emotionally equipped to handle it. The only guy that has ever been so resolutely focused on me before, is Ethan, and for the life of me I can’t figure out why the two feel so different.
I love Ethan’s eyes on me. The way he listens to every word I say as though it’s important for him to know what I’m thinking. The smile he has that is only mine.
Ethan’s attention makes me feel strong, like I’m necessary. But, the last hour with Michael has only heightened my feeling of self-consciousness and with every passing second, I can feel the prickles of insecurity intensify.
“...after we won the championship things got a little crazy, but they’ve settled down now. We need to get our focus back if we want to make it back to back.” He winks at me slyly. “And we will make it back to back.”
His words grab my attention and I grimace slightly. I’m sure his comment is merely a captain with complete faith in his team, but it comes across as arrogant and irritates me.
“You must be excited to have Ethan on the team this year. He’s an amazing running back.” I notice a flicker of emotion crosses his face, but it’s gone before I can identify it.
“He’s okay. I’m not sure how long it’s been since you last saw him play, but he’s lucky he got a spot on the team. His old man had to pull a shitload of strings to make it happen. I’ll be surprised if he makes it off the bench this season.” He shrugs casually.
My eyebrows raise in surprise. While I haven’t seen him play since high school, Ethan was always an instinctual player, with a natural ability to read the play. His only flaw was that he really didn’t care about football, and while he would never admit it to anyone else, I knew the only reason he played was out of loyalty to his father. My stomach hurt a little at the idea of Ethan losing the little bit of joy he got from football.
“Well, speak of the fucking devil.”
My eyes follow the direction of Michael’s and I feel my body relax at the sight of Ethan walking through the door, his face tense as he looks around the room.
Spotting us, he walks over, his long legs making the trip much quicker than it should have been.
Standing at the end of the table, he glares down at Michael and grabs a chair from the table opposite us, wordlessly situating himself at the end of the table, in between Michael and myself.
“Miller! Glad you could make it, man.” Seth leans over past Evie and me, to do some kind of hand slap thing that has Ethan shaking his head.
Looking directly at Michael, he replies, “Wouldn’t miss it.” His expression is menacing and a shiver of unexplained dread travels down my spine. “Your jaw’s looking better.”
Michael’s eyes narrow and flit to me briefly, before he exhales a slow steadying breath. I examine his jaw again, the bruising that he explained away earlier as a training accident, suddenly not looking quite so innocent.
“Yeah, the guy that got me needs to strengthen up a bit, so the damage was pretty insignificant.” Before Ethan can reply, he directs his attention back to me and I drag my gaze away from Ethan to meet his.
“Hey, I have to head out but are you free Saturday night? We could get some dinner, maybe see a movie?”
He’s looking at me so sincerely, and at the same time, I can feel Ethan’s penetrating stare causing me to feel completely torn. I have no idea what is going on between these two, but if I want to have Ethan in my life, then I need to move on and stop pining for him.
Ignoring Ethan, I slap on what I hope is a convincing smile and nod.
“Sure, I’d love to.” We spend the next few minutes exchanging numbers before Michael loudly farewells the group. All the while I feel Ethan glowering at me.
“What?!” I finally snap, my frustration peaking.
“The guy’s an asshole. You should stay away from him.”
“Well, he’s never been anything but nice to me, so maybe you should keep your opinions to yourself.” Anger is emanating from Ethan forcefully, and I’m shocked by its vehemence.
“Did he even know your name a week ago? Before he realized he could get to me through you?”
My head snaps back and I feel as though I’ve been slapped.
“Why? Because that’s the only reason a guy like that could be interested in me?”
He stares back at me, his face like granite, aggressively unapologetic.
“Yes.”
One word. Who would have thought that one word was all it took to shatter a person?
I feel the burn of tears, but I refuse to let them fall, so I sit there mutely, unsure how to respond to his cruelness.
“You asshole.” Evie’s voice quietly seethes next to me. “I can’t believe I was Team Ethan. You can go fuck yourself.” She starts to push me into motion. “C’mon, Lay, move. Let’s get out of here.”
“Wait, what?” Every drop of anger has fallen from Ethan’s face as he watches us in confusion.
“Stop.” He places a hand on my arm to still me. “Wait.”
He looks ashen and I can see the reality of what he said settle. “I didn’t mean it like that.
“How the hell else could you mean it, douchebag?” His eyes cut between Evie and me, a look of anxiety blanketed over his face before his eyes settle on me.
“Guys like that aren’t interested in girls like you, Bug. He wants the easy fuck. The girl that will blow him and then move on to the next guy as soon as she’s swallowed. He’s not looking for a girlfriend, just a fuck buddy. And that’s not what you are.”
I tense at his crudeness, watching closely as his hand reaches up and grips his neck, kneading the skin, knowing it’s a nervous tic of his.
“Christ, Layla, I didn’t mean that you weren’t good enough for him. You’re too fucking good.”
I lean back in my seat and attempt to let the emotions of the last few minutes settle, but I’m getting lost in my head, allowing negative emotions to drag me under.
I feel his hand take mine, his fingers threading through my own, and immediately a sense of calm envelops me. Nobody soothes me the way he does. I’ve missed it.
Looking up, I note, thankfully, that our little confrontation has gone unnoticed by those around us. They are too distracted by Seth and Mia, telling a story in their own unique way. One that involves a lot of arguing, much to the amusement of the rest of the group.
Evie’s sitting quietly next to me, the fight gone, considering Ethan thoughtfully.
“Just be careful, Layla, please? I don’t trust him.” He bites down on his bottom lip, and my eyes zero in on the action, distracting me. “That guy only cares about himself, and I don’t want you to get hurt. Just promise me you’ll think about what I’m saying.”
I focus on our hands, still entwined, and the way Ethan slides his thumb along my skin. Small teasing strokes that I could so easily read too much into.
“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you!” The spell broken, I glance up and see Tash standing next to Ethan, her words directed at Evie and me, but her eyes locked steadfastly on Ethan’s profile.
She takes the seat that Michael vacated, and I can’t help the ominous feeling that everything is about to change, no matter how hard I fight it.
“Need a hand?”
“Oh!” My hand flies to my chest in a desperate attempt to steady my heartbeat. “Don’t do that!”
Skye laughs softly at my reaction. “Sorry, I thought you saw me coming. You want me to help with these books? Cass will be here soon, won’t she?”
“Yep, that would be great, thanks.” Skye takes the spot next to me and we get to work shelving the new stock that arrived at Books & Beans this morning.
Working in tandem, we silently get through the large pile, stepping up on our tippy toes to reach the higher shelves and exchanging
looks that only a fellow shorty would understand, every time.
We have almost finished the job when Skye breaks the silence with a gentle clearing of her throat.
“So, Cassidy mentioned she hasn’t seen much of you lately. Everything going okay?”
Now, I should mention that I love having Skye as my boss. She’s fair and understanding, and pretty much exactly what everyone wants in a boss. But, occasionally, there are times when having a boss who has known me since I was a tubby eleven-year-old and is best friends with my big sister, can be a pain in the behind.
“Yeah, everything’s great. Just busy, you know?” I cringe inwardly and pray my attempt at flippancy has worked.
Skye places the last book on the shelf to her left and then turns to face me, her eyes narrowing so slightly, that most people wouldn’t even notice. “Okay, I know how busy college can be, especially your last year.”
I force a smile and begin to move away when she grabs my arm, stopping me.
“But if anything is going on, you can talk to me. I know how full-on Cassidy can be, and I know sometimes she reacts without thinking. I’m here if you need me. I just need you to know that.”
Without thinking, I throw my arms around her, getting a face full of her long, wavy brown hair and mutter a quiet thank you.
Pulling back, she strokes a hand over my cheek, smiling softly. “Anytime, Lay.”
I begin to push the trolley we use to move the boxes of books through the store toward the stockroom when Skye calls out again. “You’ll be back by two? Juliet has an appointment with her lawyer at two-thirty, and she wants me there for some reason.”
A smile lights up my face at the mention of Juliet, the owner of Books & Beans. She retired recently, leaving Skye to manage the place, and as happy as I am for Skye, I do miss her. She was like a doting aunt, who was always there with a listening ear, homemade shortbread and sometimes inappropriate advice.
“Yeah, I’ll definitely be back by then, no worries.”
I make my way to the stockroom, getting lost in my head as I consider what Skye said about Cassidy.
I love my sister. Actually, I adore her. There’s not much not to love. She’s loud, confident and she loves with her entire heart. She’s also stunningly beautiful. With the exception of our blonde hair, we look nothing alike and are actually complete opposites.
She’s tall to my short. She’s cerulean blue eyes to my murky brown. She’s beautiful to my plain. And no matter how much I love her, spending a lifetime being compared, and falling very short, leaves me feeling even more self-conscious than normal when I’m around her. No matter how hard I try to fight it.
Shaking my head in frustration, I decide that today I am going to get over myself and enjoy my time with Cassidy. Putting all the equipment back where it belongs, I straighten my back and stride determinedly toward the counter that has my purse underneath but as I glance up toward the door, all air forcefully leaves my body, leaving me breathless at the sight headed my way.
Ethan
She looks beautiful. Stunned and slightly murderous, but still beautiful as fuck.
Twisting my head, I lean down slightly to whisper in Cassidy’s ear. “She doesn’t look too happy to see me.”
Cassidy wrinkles her nose in disgust at my words. “Who the fuck cares? Jesus, if I had a dollar for every time someone looked at me like that, I’d have my bakery by now.” She squeezes my forearm roughly, reminding me of the unpleasant greeting I received earlier, my cheek stinging at the memory. “Suck it up, buttercup. You deserve for her to cut your dick off after the way you ghosted her. Now smile real pretty, so I don’t regret letting you tag along, ‘kay?”
Nodding, we stop abruptly when Layla stands right in front of us.
“What’s going on here?” She quirks a brow at her sister in challenge.
“You ready to go?” Cassidy ignores her question entirely, instead looping her arm through Layla’s and taking off, leaving me behind. “You coming, Hollywood?” she throws over her shoulder.
Layla snorts out a laugh, and I grimace, glaring at Cassidy. She has an awful habit of nicknaming everyone and when you get stuck with the bullshit name Hollywood at thirteen, well, let’s just say that’s tough for a guy to live down.
“C’mon, Millhouse, I’ve only got an hour, so hurry up.” Layla smirks at me.
Jesus, these fucking two.
Ten minutes later I’m being dragged into a bakery that boasts ‘The best high tea in New York,’ and Layla describes as “oh my God, how quaint!” while I wonder what the fuck I’m doing.
“What the hell is high tea?” A thought crosses my mind. “Does it involve pot brownies? ‘Cause Coach would kill me if he ever found out.”
Layla giggles and Cassidy snorts at my question.
“It’s a fancy schmancy afternoon tea, dipwad, and it’s very classy. Think posh English people eating tiny sandwiches and cakes. I’m considering offering it as a new service to my clients,” Cassidy explains.
After getting settled and ordering what is essentially a snack for me, I begin mentally planning my second lunch while the girls launch into a stream of meaningless chit-chat, catching up on all the gossip, and completely ignoring me.
My phone pings and I glance at it in annoyance when I see Tash’s name appear on the screen. I have no idea who gave her my number, but they’re going to cop it when I find out. The chick has been annoying me all week and can’t seem to take the hint that I’m not interested.
I sit silently, listening to the girls talk and biting my tongue in an attempt not to bring up Bradshaw and Layla’s date tonight. But really, it’s the only thing I want to talk about.
“So, I want to experiment with some new flavors tonight, bubs, you wanna be my guinea pig? I’ll even sweeten the deal with The Greatest Showman, and we can spend the night drooling over cupcakes and Zac Efron.” Cassidy’s question grabs my attention and I seize my opportunity like the ultimate running back I am.
“She can’t. She has a date.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
The waitress picks this moment to arrive with our cute – Layla’s words, not mine – lunch and she flushes with embarrassment at her sister’s outburst.
Luckily the server’s only response is a small smile as she places the tiered rack, holding a variety of sandwiches – with their fucking crusts cut off – and tiny cakes and pastries. I swear to God, if there are cucumber sandwiches on that thing, I’m walking out in disgust.
“Bubs! Why didn’t you tell me you had a date? It’s been ages since that last fuckwad. It’s about freaking time.”
My ears perk up. “What fuckwad?”
Cassidy waves me off like an annoying gnat. “Just some loser who didn’t know amazing when he had it.”
“CJ, shut up,” Layla hisses, and I make a mental note to find out more about this guy, who I instinctively want to hurt, later.
“Christ, fine.” Cassidy side-eyes me while taking her pick of the miniature sandwiches. My eyes narrow as she adds a third one to her plate, leaving only… four, five, six, six left. Fuck, I’m going to starve.
“Okay, you’re up, Hollywood, tell me everything she won’t.”
All thoughts of starving, forgotten, I answer honestly. “He’s a dickhead, and she shouldn’t be wasting her time with him.”
She sighs dramatically, which is pretty much how Cassidy does everything. “And that’s your completely unbiased opinion, I suppose?”
Layla chooses this moment to interrupt, and her answer has me clenching my jaw.
“No, it’s not unbiased.” She glares at me across the table. “They hate each other for some reason, and that’s what he’s basing his opinion on.”
“Don’t you trust that I have my reasons for hating him?”
“Well, then shouldn’t I consider that he hates you? Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to forgive you?”
“Forgive me? It doesn’t feel like you’ve forgiven me.” I can’t h
elp the edge of bitterness in my voice. “We used to talk every day. I barely see you now.” I let the resentment flow through me, and for the first time, I acknowledge that I’m pissed. That even though I was the asshole who ruined our friendship, she said we could start over and she hasn’t put any effort into reconnecting.
“Are you kidding me right now, Ethan?”
But I meet her stare resolutely, determined not to back down.
A plate scraping across the table reminds us that we’re not alone and we both turn toward Cassidy, who is munching on a pitiful sandwich, eyes wide, swinging her gaze between the two of us.
“Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just here for the comments and all that jazz. You guys go on.”
Layla shakes her head in annoyance before facing me. I try my best to keep a stoic face on but fuck it. I turned my life upside down to fix things with her, and she said she would try. And it’s fucking killing me that she keeps holding me at arm’s length. Fuck Seth and his “maybe something can happen” bullshit. At this point, I’ll settle for having my best friend back.
Her face softens as she looks at me, and I can breathe a little bit easier. This is my Layla.
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way.” She sighs a sigh so deep, I can almost see her body vibrate. “I’m trying, I promise I am. I just… I don’t know. I’m trying. That’s all I can tell you.”
“It doesn’t feel like you’re trying when you ignore my messages,” I mutter. I sound like a pouting child, and I could happily bitch slap my whiny ass right now.
“Oh, my fucking God,” Cassidy butts in, her voice loaded with exasperation. “Layla, do you promise to answer Ethan’s messages from now on?” She nods. “Good. Ethan, do you promise not to be a complete douchehole and disappear from Layla’s life again?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then. I now pronounce your petty asses BFFs again,” she huffs, grabbing another sandwich. “Now, can we talk about something more important? Like my annoying, pain-in-the-ass boss? Do you know what Sunshine did to me yesterday?”
