Page 68 of Power Play

“Would you talk to someone who gutted you open? Who ripped your heart out and stomped all over it right in front of your friends?”

Colt is silent, his gaze drifting to his wife. The corners of his mouth tremble when Ava catches his eyes on her and smiles at him from across the room. He mouths, “I love you,” to her, and I instantly look away. Not just because their love for each other makes my heart bleed a little, opening wounds that have barely healed, but also because I noticeherturning to see what Ava is looking at.

“I would,” Colt suddenly says, and I whip my head toward him, my glass pressed to my lips. “If I loved her as much as I love Ava, I would talk to her.”

I swallow my whiskey, but instead of bringing some relief to my fucked-up state, it forces my gaze to strain to her. I stare, barely breathing, letting myself devour her with my eyes. She laughs. Some of the champagne she has in her mouth spills, and she starts coughing, covering her mouth with her palm. Ava grabs some napkins from the table and tries to clean her friend’s dress. My heart gallops, a rush of adrenaline surging through me.Look at me, I plead with her silently.Please, look at me.

And she does. Her eyes collide with mine, and it’s like the world around us went up in flames and there is only me and her. I slowly set my glass on the table, still holding her gaze. She takes a deep breath; her chest heaves. Gingerly, she stands up, saying something to Ava while maintaining eye contact with me.Heading away from the table, she walks out of the house, to a small patio.

I lick my lips, torn between my yearning to follow her and my stubborn desire to stay put, to not give in.

“Go,” Colt tells me, nudging me with his knuckle. “I’ll make sure Drake doesn’t notice your absence.”

Hastily, I nod and stand up from my chair. My heart beats a mile a minute as I trudge toward the patio. Once I’m outside, I slowly close the door behind me and look around for her, not seeing her at first. It’s around 11:00 p.m., and it’s dark outside, way darker than it gets in the city.

I start for the stairs and finally notice her. She’s sitting on a bench, hidden in the shadow of a bigleaf maple tree. Her phone screen lights up her face, a deep wrinkle between her brows as she types something. I hide my hands in my pockets, go down the stairs, and join her on the bench.

“Hey, Clay,” she says. Her voice has such a familiar lilt to it that my heart leaps into my chest.

“Hi, Layla.” I stare ahead, my elbows resting on my knees.

“I know we’ve been here for a couple days, but since we…never said a word to each other, saying hi feels like a good start.”

“Uh-huh.”

“How are you?”

I’m miserable without you.“I’m good. Really good. You?”

“Okay, I guess. Next year is my last year of college, so I’m excited.”

“Hope it’s fun,” I deadpan. The tone of my voice is a total contradiction to how I feel. “Where is your boyfriend? I thought you’d be here with him.”

She sucks in a breath like my question surprised her. “Brian isn’t my boyfriend.” She clears her throat. “We were having fun.”

I do a half-turn toward her. “Like we were?”

“Clay,” she warns, folding her arms across her chest.

“What? It wasn’t the same?” I turn to her completely. My eyes coast the length of her, lingering on her full breasts, which rise and fall with her rapid breath.

“It wasn’t.”

The warm air of mid-June surrounds us. A balmy wind caresses my skin, which becomes hotter with each passing second as I sit there, holding her gaze. She said she didn’t love me. She said it was just sex. She hurt me so fucking much, I barely existed after our breakup. But damn if I don’t want her.

Even if it’d be just sex.

Whatever she’s ready to give me, I’ll take it.

“And you know why it was different?” I ask, tracing my finger up her arm. She shivers, her eyes falling closed. “Because none of those boys can fuck you like I can. None of them knows what your body craves.” I move my hand up, slipping it under her hair and behind her neck. “None of them knows your pussy like I do.”

“Clay,” she whispers, “I don’t think?—”

“You don’t want me?”

“I do, but it’s?—”

I pull her close to me, our eyes level. “Just shut up and give me that sweet pussy of yours.” I let her go and sit more comfortably, my back resting against the bench. She hesitates, biting her bottom lip, her eyes focusing on my groin. “Come here, Layla.”

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