Page 43 of Two Weeks in Tahoe

“A long time,” he says sadly. Hesitant. “I don’t really remember, but…Uncle Liam says it’s the last toy my dad got me.”

My heart breaks for this sweet, happy, lively boy all over again. He holds onto that little toy truck because it’s the last thing he got from his father before he died. I want to cry, but I hold back the tears. I don’t want to overwhelm him.

It’s not fair, the card he was dealt in life. While Liam is amazing with him, nothing can heal the wound of losing a pair of loving parents. It can only put a bandage on a cut that will never heal. And I know that Liam’s heart still aches over the loss of his sister too. I think he’s always put on a brave face for the kid, putting himself second no matter what. I blink a few times to push back the liquid gathering in my eyes. Crying in front of him over it will do him no good.

“I lost my parents too, you know.”

He looks at me with curious eyes.

“You did?”

“Yeah. A little over a year ago. So, we have that in common.” It’s not something anyone would hope to bond over, but here we are.

He smiles sadly, his brown eyes looking at me with something like trust in them. He’s happy to have that camaraderie between us, I think.

“I just know they are watching down on us all the time though. Yours probably even have your favorite movie memorized by now.”

His chocolate eyes brighten at the thought of that. “You think so?”

“Definitely.” I smile, nodding. He leans into me, and we continue watching the cartoon we put on after the movie ended. I look back for a moment, sensing a pair of eyes on me. Liam is standing in the kitchen, watching us with his arms crossed. I wonder how long he’s been listening. His face is serious, but when I meet his eyes, the corner of his lip tugs up a little.

I turn back to the television, and a bittersweet feeling washes over me. I miss being part of a family, I realize.

29

Liam

It’s Thanksgiving. I’ve spent the last few days making any excuse I can to spend time with Layla, knowing the end of her vacation is quickly approaching. I took her snowmobiling, had several meals out, took Jackson to the movies, and even tried to take her skiing. That one was a “hard pass” on her part. Something about how she tried skiing once recently and spent the whole day on her ass. We hung out at the house instead.

I’m not ready to say goodbye, but I’m not going to think about that tonight.

We’re having dinner at my house, and all of the people who matter most to me are going to be here: Jackson, Dex, my parents, and Layla. And in a surprising last-minute turn of events, Layla’s best friend Daniela decided she’d make the drive to spend Thanksgiving here too. Layla had planned to have Thanksgiving at her cabin, just the two of them, but I talked her into spending it with me.

It’s not a big, glamorous Thanksgiving by any means, but I don’t think Layla needs anything fancy to be impressed. She values quality time and family—something we’ve discussed once or twice over the past few days. We’ve talked about a lot of things, but for some reason we keep dancing around the topic of her looming exit. I keep getting the feeling that she’s avoiding talking about it, so I don’t push it. We’ll have to eventually, but for now, I’ll live in this blissful little bubble with her. When she leaves, it’ll pop, and this whole situation will become a lot more complicated.

Since she was unsure about joining us at first, I’m glad Daniela is coming. She’ll be a great buffer, hopefully making Layla feel more at home. She said she was nervous to meet my parents on such a big day, but I think there’s more going on than that. And I get it. But personally, I don’t give a shit if it’s “too soon.” When it comes to her, I will break all the rules, and I don’t care what anyone thinks. Besides, I know my parents are going to love her.

I watch her stirring her “secret recipe” in my kitchen, her hip popped to the side as she quietly hums. She fits in so nicely here with us, and I’m realizing how badly I don’t want her to leave. How insanely addicted to her I’m becoming. But I also know that realistically, I can’t expect her to uproot her entire life. I don’t know what the solution is, but I want to keep talking to her no matter what. It’s not ideal, all that distance between us, but I’ll take it over the alternative. I just need to find a way to express that to her.

None of our guests have arrived yet and Jackson is preoccupied with a show, so I sneak up behind Layla, grab her hips, and place a firm kiss on her neck. She lets out a quiet laugh and backs her ass up even harder into me, and I’m immediately hard for her. I make sure she feels it, and she lets out a soft moan, turning her head back to look at me. I cup her cheek, run a thumb over her pouty bottom lip, then lean down and place a soft, gentle kiss on her mouth. I pull back to gaze down at her—the soft slope of her nose, her dark, fluttering eyelashes, the strands of hair that have fallen into her face. I can’t get enough of her.

Layla is a magnet that pulls me in whenever I’m around her. Her strength and joy are infectious. She had the worst year of her life, and yet she pulled herself out, dusted herself off, and decided to keep going at it, all on her own. Independent and yet so happy when she’s here with us. It’s palpable.

Watching her bond with Jackson is more than I ever could’ve hoped for. He’s been through an awful thing that will stick with him for the rest of his life, but seeing her connect with him over that has been heart-warming. More than I ever could have wished for.

It’s possible that I might be falling for her. I knew going into this that she wouldn’t be around for long, yet nothing in me hesitated or shouted to slow down, to be careful. I didn’t want to go slow with her; it never even crossed my mind. And that scares the hell out of me because I know that if she leaves, she could break my damn heart.

30

Layla

Daniela is on the other side of the door, and I’m so excited. As I swing it open with excitement, she shrieks and jumps into my arms. I pull my best friend of so many years in a tight embrace, and we both squeal. I’m selfishly so happy she decided to bail on Thanksgiving in Sacramento to come here. I think her curiosity about what I have going on here had a lot to do with it, but I’ll still take it. Besides, the lawyer fizzled out days ago, so she had some extra time to spare.

“Girlfriend, you are looking gorgeous tonight,” I say with a smile, holding her hands out and taking her in. Under her long coat, I see a red sequin shirt and black pants. It’s nothing too crazy for her.

Daniela is a few inches taller than me, slightly curvier, with brown hair and green eyes. I always envied her beauty when we were younger. My own features felt dull in comparison to hers. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to embrace what I have, while still admiring all of her beauty.

She gives a playful bow, taking me in as well. “Well, if I had to bail on that Thanksgiving date of mine, I might as well still look good. And if I’m looking gorgeous, then you’re looking downright stunning Layla Stewart,” she replies in a sensual tone, eyeing my outfit. I went with a simple, tight white henley, a red corduroy skirt and black leggings. My usual.

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