Page 21 of Power Play

“Are you okay with them being together? I mean, I know they aren’t a couple, but…” Why the fuck am I rambling? “Er, is it okay that Ava is with Colton? You don’t mind?”

Layla’s eyebrows knit together as she halts in her tracks. I stop too and turn to face her. The cold air sinks straight into my bones, making me shiver. The alley we stopped in is dark, streetlights illuminating it slightly. Her eyes are narrowed to slits, her lips collapsed in an annoyed pout. Her reaction isn’t exactly the one I expected, but at least I don’t see any embarrassment on her face. Maybe I did read her wrong before because she looks irritated.

“What are you asking? I’m not quite following.”

My cheeks are burning; even the damn tips of my ears feel like they’re on fire. Thank God it’s dark out. The last thing I want is for her to see how awkward I feel.

“I thought you liked Thompson,” I blurt, waiting for her reaction with my heart beating so fast, it’s like I’m running a sprint. It’s no surprise I never dated anyone. This feelings shit is exhausting.

“Why do you say that?”

“I know you tried to kiss him last year.”

Layla takes a step back, her lips forming a little O. Her face is like watching the sky when a storm is coming. One second,it’s light and sunny—the next, it’s dark, and the rolling thunder that precedes a heavy rain becomes louder with each passing moment. She’s royally pissed, and asking her about Colt doesn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.

“Wow.” She whistles. “And here I thought Thompson wasn’t a blabber.”

“He isn’t. He didn’t tell me anything,” I say hurriedly.

Layla folds her arms over her chest and tilts her head to the side, observing me skeptically.

“That’s not how I found out.”

“And how did you find out? I don’t remember seeing you that night.”

“Do you remember everything from that party?” I cock an eyebrow. A smug smile grows on my lips.

Shaking her head, Layla drops her arms from her chest. She wraps her hand around the strap of her sports bag and lifts her chin, looking me straight in the eyes. “I don’t because I was wasted. But I certainly remember that it was just Colton and me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

I smile broadly. “No.” Bending my head, I hold her gaze. “I helped him get you into the car, and I stayed behind when he took you to your room. But your cell started ringing—you forgot your purse in the back seat. I brought it to your room and saw you all over Thompson.” She listens to me, pursing her lips tighter. “I backed away and pretended I didn’t see anything when he walked out of your room a few minutes later. I said I brought your cell, and he believed me.”

Layla takes a deep breath, exhaling through her nostrils. Anger still simmers from her, but now there’s an uneasiness in how she avoids looking at me. I wait, keeping my mouth shut. The reason I’m asking is because…I like her. Liked her all thistime, ever since I first saw her at that coffee shop a year ago. If she was or still is into Colton, I’d respectfully fuck off.

“I don’t like him,” she mutters. “Like, he’s hot, but no, I don’t.”

“Then why did you try to kiss him?”

The eye roll she gives me makes me chuckle. “Because I was wasted and wanted to hook up. Everyone knows that Thompson is a good fuck. I shot my shot, and he turned me down.”

The emotions brewing inside me are new to me. I’ve had a lot of girls in my bed, had some serious crushes in high school and college but never like this. I never felt tempted enough to want a relationship, preferring to have some fun instead of investing in anything serious. With Layla around, everything seems less depressing, more colorful. It feels better in general. I can blame Colt for falling for a girl for the first time in his life, but I know that’s not why I’m making a fool of myself in front of Layla now.

I’ve wanted Layla since the moment I saw her…and Colton’s experience just pushed me to really think about making a move. To put myself out there in hopes she’ll consider me. Not my best friend, not her little boyfriend, not all the other boys I’ve seen her with.

I want her to give me a chance.

“You chose the wrong guy that night,” I say on an exhale.

A shadow crosses her features, and she looks away. Her lips move, but she doesn’t say anything. I lean closer, desperate to know what she’s thinking.

“Layla.” Her name slips past my lips, and she brings her gaze back to me. “I would’ve never turned you down.”

Laughter springs out of her mouth, making me take a step back. She keeps laughing, pressing her open palm to her forehead. I stare at her with my jaw clenched hard. Out of every possible outcome of this conversation, this one hurts the most.

Fuck this. This is why I don’t want a relationship. It’s too complicated and too hurtful.

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