Page 19 of Power Play

I ball my fist, anger boiling just above the surface. Stopping in my tracks, I half-turn to have a better view, debating if I should go and have a word with him. Is this fucker cheating on Layla? How stupid could he be?

“Clay?” I tear my gaze away from the scene and peer at Colton. A deep frown is etched on his face as he studies me. “Are we going or not?”

I glance at Layla’s little boyfriend, then back at Colt. “You think we should tell Benson?”

Confusion clouds Colton’s features. “Tell Benson what?”

“That Layla’s boyfriend is cheating on her.” I urge.

Colt runs his palm down his face, then blows air out of his parted lips. “This dude isn’t Layla’s boyfriend. They never were official, and Ava said—” He snaps his mouth shut, realizing he let on more than he wanted. Duly noted that we’re still playing the game of him acting as if he doesn’t spend all his free time with her.

“What did Ava say?” I ask innocently.

“Layla is single. That’s all you need to know.” Colton holds my gaze, then a smile breaks over his lips. “Leave the poor guy alone. Was it not enough for you that you messed up his exam results last year?”

What the fuck? How does he know that?

I clench my jaw, turn on my heel, and resume my walk, passing him on my way. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure.” Colt laughs behind my back.

Fucker.

I don’t know how he does it. Colton keeps things to himself all the time. Sometimes talking to him is like pulling teeth—painful and miserable, but at the same time he always knows everything, including things people want to stay hidden. I’m not proud of myself for what I did to this dude, but when I found out Layla’d started dating her classmate, I got so upset, I sabotaged him. I got him in trouble with one of his professors by saying I overheard the dude bragging about cheating on the exam.

It was some kindergarten-level mean shit, but at the time, I felt vengeful.

Not that it helped me in any way because she stayed with him for over a year. While I continued to act as if it didn’t bother me. Continued fucking around as if she wasn’t the only girl I wanted.

Why did she break up with him now? What changed?

Ava’s words ring in my head as I walk out of the building, a cold December wind hitting me in the face.I can put in a good word for you, she said, suggesting she’d talk to Drake if I want a chance with Layla.

Does it mean…Layla likes me?

The next day,I sit at the dining hall with Colton beside me, but my food is the last thing I care about. Layla is here, a few tables away from us, with Ava and Grace. Her hair is in a high ponytail, and she keeps twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. Herattention is on Grace as she listens to her. From time to time, she throws glances at Ava, and every time her lips purse a bit more.

Ava has her nose buried in some book, clearly not interested in the conversation. And it definitely annoys Layla.

I smirk to myself. She has a bossy side to her when she expects people to do as she wants. I saw how it was between her and Grace during their freshman year when Ava wasn’t here. But it’s clear to me it doesn’t work the same with her best friend at all. Ava gives back as much as she gets.

“Rodgers.” I meet Colton’s gaze. He nods to his left, and I notice Drake making his way toward our table. “I’d advise you to stop undressing Benson’s sister with your eyes before he gets here. He wouldn’t appreciate it.”

I grit my teeth but do as he tells me. The last thing I need is Drake suspecting something…before I even have a chance to make a move on Layla.

But am I really going to go for it?

Drake slumps down on the chair across from me, almost blocking Layla’s face from me with his broad shoulders. “I honestly feel like I want winter break to start now. I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Four more days,” I comment and move a bit, so I can have a better look at Layla again.

Her eyes collide with mine, and for a second, I stop breathing. I don’t hear what Drake says to me, don’t hear Colton when he chimes in when I keep quiet. All I want to look at is her, and damn, she’s a fucking sight. This jean shirt tugs at her chest so tightly, I can see even from here the swell of her tits.

Layla wets her bottom lip, still holding my gaze, and I grip the fork in my hand harder. Dammit. She’s playing me all right.

I rear back in my seat and peer at Drake, who talks to Colton about our upcoming games. He’s a good guy and a thousandtimes better friend than me…because I’m tired of staying away from his sister.

If I see a chance to make a move, I’m going to seize the opportunity and hope for the best.

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