Page 42 of Layla Meets Her Match

“Thanks,” I say, hoping she knows how much I mean that. “I’m glad you came.”

She beams. “Thanks for inviting me. It was so fun. I felt like a movie star or something, up in a special suite.”

I lower my voice. “We both know you’re going to be one very soon anyway.”

She grins. “One step at a time.” But despite her words, the determination is in her eyes. She will make it, and despite the fact that I do think Jack Williams robbed her of a career she should already have, I’m glad she’s going to do it on her own without having to look back and wonder if her relationship with him was the reason she got a part she wanted. And yeah, maybe I talked to Nick and maybe the director thought about her more seriously because of it, but this is all her. All the way that people have fallen in love with her, if their obsession with our relationship is any indication. Nobody cared who some running back on the Rays dated until it was Layla Delaford.

I reach out and finger the silky fabric of her sleeve and then drop it without gripping her arm and pulling her closer to me like I want to. “Nice shirt.”

She does a little twirl for me, like I don’t already know it’s my jersey. “This one’s not Hurley’s,” she says. Her cheeks are a little pink, and it makes me hopeful that she feels this buzz between us too. It doesn’t mean she’ll jump right into a relationship with me, even if she does feel it, but it might make telling her how I feel easier.

I wait a beat too long to say something, weighing my next words more than necessary. Even though it feels awkward, and she’d likely say my timing was off, I say, “It looks a lot better than his did.”

She laughs, so maybe it wasn’t as dumb to say as my brain is telling me. Maybe I’m slowly starting to get comfortable with her the way I am with my teammates. She reaches toward me and grips my arm. “You had a great game, Linc. I know it didn’t turn out like you wanted, but you were amazing, and I’m really proud of you. You fought hard.”

I could burst into flames right here at those words. She’s proud of me? It makes me lighter than air. My mom tells me after almost every game that she sees my hard work, and that no matter the outcome, she knows I’m doing my best. It’s a whole other thing hearing Layla tell me that.

“Thanks.” It’s so pitiful compared to how I feel about it. I love you, Layla Delaford. That’s what I want to say. That’s what I keep back, because as much as I feel it, she deserves for me to honor the boundaries she needs.

She drops her hand and turns to Court, reaching out to tap her lightly on the shoulder. “I need to go,” she says, her voice reluctant. She glances back at me, giving a light-hearted grimace. “My mom watched Margot multiple days last week since the truck’s so busy and now today too. I feel guilty.” She turns back to Court. “I’ll just grab an Uber so you don’t have to leave.” She gestures toward Eli, who has his arm around Court and is holding her close.

“We’ll drive you,” Mila says, tugging Landon forward. I didn’t even notice he was here. Guess my focus is a little narrow.

“You sure?” Layla glances around, her eyes bright as she takes in the scene. “I don’t want you to leave early on my account.”

“No problem,” Landon says. “We wouldn’t miss seeing Margot for a bunch of football players.” They shift toward the doors, and Layla moves to follow.

I grab her hand before she can go and use it to tug her close. “Thanks again for coming.” I lean over and kiss her on the cheek. It’s not enough, but for now it has to do.

She bites her lip, eyes darting down toward mine, and then swallows. “Thanks again for the tickets,” she says, her voice breathless. She slips her hand from mine, and then follows Landon and Mila. She looks over her shoulder at me a few times as they leave, and she catches me watching her every time.

Dottie is absolutely right. I’m going to tell her how I feel, tell her I’ll support whatever she needs our relationship to look like right now, but I’m going to tell her I love her. Soon.

CHAPTER 25

LAYLA

I’m so glad that Lincoln stops by the bakery truck almost every day. Our interaction at the football game yesterday was so … I don’t know. Intense? Is that the right word? It was full of something, and I need something to balance out the way my heart seems to be pounding around in my chest, making itself known. I need some cute small talk and a glimpse of his embarrassed smile. I need a normal interaction with him before our date at his house tomorrow night.

Date. It’s not a date. It’s hanging out and celebrating. My daughter will be there.

When I see him in line on Monday morning, I’m glad to be sitting in the truck with some separation between us. That way I won’t be tempted to lean in and kiss him when he orders. Zora texted me last night and asked what I want to say to the people calling her for comments on my relationship with Lincoln. I reiterated that we’re just friends and we’re still saying no comment.

People love you guys together, she’d texted. I’m happy to keep them thinking that. Then she’d sent a follow-up. Let me know when you guys are ready to confirm the relationship.

The way she’d said it, like it was a given, made my heart race almost as much as Lincoln’s farewell kiss.

Is it a given? Am I okay with that?

Would I even be able to say no to him if it’s a possibility?

I can’t keep from glancing at him every chance I get while I take orders from the three people in front of him. Things aren’t too busy, so Astrid is helping Mila in the back for a minute. That means I’ll get a second to talk to Lincoln.

Astrid sits down at her station just as Lincoln gets to the front of the line. She waves at him, and he returns the gesture with a friendly smile of his own. “Morning, Astrid,” he says. And before the jealousy can prick too much, he turns to me, his smile widening. “Morning, Layla.”

My cheek tingles as I remember the soft kiss he left there after the game yesterday. “Good morning, Linc.” I do a quick survey of our customers. There are a handful of people milling around, but no one seems to be in a hurry. The bearded health nut is nowhere to be found, thankfully. The customers are looking at the menu board, and there are a few people discussing the notice we put up about people letting us know about anything strange.

“Great game yesterday,” Astrid says before I can say anything.

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