Page 6 of Power Play

“Layla?” I snap my head in Drake’s direction. He gestures to the living room, and I push off the wall and walk in. Plopping onthe couch, I wait for him to join me. Drake sits beside me and focuses his attention on me. His deep brown eyes, the same color as mine and Maya’s, emit warmth. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“I know you don’t talk to me about Clay?—”

“What’s there to talk about?” I shrug. “He’s my ex. We haven’t talked to each other in…three years. It’s like a whole lifetime considering I have Maya now, and I no longer live in Michigan.”

“He no longer lives in Chicago either.”

I roll my eyes. “Drake, what’s your point?”

“Are you really okay? Ready to see him again?”

I sigh dejectedly. “Our past is our past. There’s nothing I can do about it. Clay and I saw each other after our breakup more than once, and we never had problems.” Except for that one time, when he met Eli three years ago, but Drake doesn’t need to know about that. And he definitely doesn’t need to know exactly how many times Clay and I spent time together after our breakup. It’s something not even Ava knows, and I think of myself as a person who is open about everything with her best friend.

Unless it’s about my ex.

“Layla?” Drake calls out my name.

I blink, plastering a smile on my face. “I don’t mind spending time with Clay. It doesn’t bother me, and I hope…” I pause, remembering my stupid decision not to tell him about me having a baby with Eli. When things got out, it affected his friendship with Drake and his best friend, Colton. It was a shit show, and I was the one to blame for their fallout, even though none of them actually blamed me.

Clearing my throat, I say, “I hope it doesn’t bother him either.”

Drake stares at me with uncertainty, then forces the fakest smile onto his face. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

My big brother and his inability to hide his emotions.

Laughter accompanied by loud barking rattles the quiet as Maya and Coop continue playing in the hallway. Drake instantly stands up and goes to check on the ruckus, while I let myself sink into the plush couch. I close my eyes and rest my nape on the back of the couch.

Finally. Drake and his worries are going to be the death of me.

Of course I’m worried. I’m dreading the moment I see Clay for the first time but not for the reason everyone thinks. It’s so ridiculous, I couldn’t even bring myself to say it when Ava asked me about it.

Since the first time we met eight years ago, when I was just eighteen years old at the coffee shop near Great Lake University’s campus, I always saw how he looked at me. There was curiosity at first, longing and admiration later. When we started dating, and even after I broke up with him…I saw love in his eyes. I felt it with every fiber of my being. So even the thought of Clay looking at me with hatred makes me lose my shit.

I don’t want him to hate me. Out of eight billion people in the world, I can survive every single person hating me but not Clay Rodgers.

Even if his hate is exactly what I deserve for all the terrible mistakes I’ve made because of my insecurities.

I broke his heart, while all he ever did was love me…while all I ever did was love him.

I was so stupid?—

“Okay, the cake is ready.” A sudden voice rips me out of my thoughts.

I jump in my seat, snapping my eyes open and staring at Angie in bewilderment. She stands with a cardboard box in her hands, an eyebrow raised in question.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, I zoned out thinking about all the orders I have next week. A big client, you know.” I laugh, inwardly cringing at how it sounds.

Angie smiles warmly at me. “I’m happy that your florist business is flourishing. Hopefully, soon you’ll be able to open your own studio, where you can create your masterpieces.”

I raise my hand with my fingers crossed. “Hopefully. But for now, the garage works just fine. I’ll be forever grateful to you and Drake for everything you’re doing for me.”

“Be happy, Layla,” Angie says. “That’s what Drake and I want for you.”

I swallow my emotions, my eyes filling with tears. “I will,” I tell her, standing up and walking over to her. “Let me help you with this.” I take the box from her hands.

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