Page 32 of Power Play

“Was Bon-Bon exactly how you thought she would be?” I ask.

The doorbell chimes, and someone walks into the shop. When I look up, everything in me comes to a stop. Even my breathing stills.

Dressed in a dark-green tee and black shorts, Clay stands by the door, scanning the place. The moment his eyes land on me, my heart leaps into my throat. A handsome smirk rises on his lips as he strolls toward our table, hands hidden in his pockets. He stops a step away.

“Hey, Layla.”

I’m going to kill Ava. I swear.

Chapter 12

See You Later, Mama

CLAY

Now, August

Her eyes,which usually remind me of milk chocolate, are a darker shade now. I can almost see lightning bolts behind her irises. Layla is pissed, just like Ava suspected she would be. Not that I care. I saw a chance to make a move and went for it.

It’s time I put my plan into action.

I am a winner…and I want my girl back.

“Clay!” Maya squeals excitedly.

I bend a little, smiling from ear to ear. She stands up from her chair and jumps into my outstretched arms. “Hey, Princess. How are you?”

“Good.” She glances at Layla. “I ate cupcake.”

“Really? Was it delicious?”

“Angie’s is better.” Her cheeks redden as she lowers her gaze.

“Can you believe I still haven’t visited Angie’s dessert shop?” I make my eyes round, raising my eyebrows. “Should I go?”

“Yes! She’s the best,” Maya tells me with conviction, resting her palm against my collarbone. My skin warms, and my heartswells in my chest. I think I can get used to feeling like this with these two around.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll go to Angie’s next time I want something sweet.” I smile, my heart pounding harder. Maya’s affection toward me makes my breath hitch. “Will you go with me?”

She nods. “Can Mommy go?”

I’m counting on it.

But instead of saying that aloud, I tell her, “Let’s ask your mommy.” My gaze collides with Layla’s the second I turn my head to her. She tries to play annoyed, pouting, but her eyes are soft, glimmering with warmth. “Will you come with us, Mama?”

Her mouth hangs open. “What?”

I repeat slowly. “Will you come with us? We want to go to Angie’s dessert shop.”

“We?” she asks.

“Me and Clay,” Maya clarifies, oblivious to her mom’s shocked state. “Can we go, Mommy?”

Layla swallows; the column of her throat twitches. Fixing her hairpin with trembling fingers, she holds my gaze. “We can…but I’m not sure when. I’m going to be very busy soon, and then Clay’s going to be busy. Preseason starts?—”

“I will find time,” I interrupt her. “For you and Maya, I’ll always find time.”

Layla’s chest rises and falls. Her eyes darken, and all the brightness dims. It’s like she’s not used to hearing things like that, and it fucking pains me.

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