Page 42 of Power Play

“I’m better.”

“I’m afraid to even think about how you define ‘better.’”

Clay’s eyes coast over my face, slowly and precisely. My skin feels hotter with each second he keeps his gaze on me. “Just don’t run away from me, and you’ll see how much I’ve changed.”

“Running away will be hard to do.” Because I don’t want to run away from him, even if it’s the right thing to do. He deserves someone a thousand times better than me, not someone who only realized she was in love with him when she broke his heart and made him walk away. “Maya likes you,” I tell him instead.

“And I like her,” he says nonchalantly, and everything in me drops. He’s kind and caring to my little girl, something her father never was. “That picture of Bon-Bon she drew for me? A masterpiece. They should put it in the Louvre.”

I laugh, and the tension in me evaporates. “You’re overdoing it, Clay. That drawing was a mess.”

“That’syouropinion.Ipersonally think it’s incredible.” He shrugs, then becomes serious all of a sudden. “And, Layla?”

“What?” I whisper.

“Wearefriends,” he says confidently. “We gotta start somewhere after all these years, right?”

I nod, unable to utter even a sound. Nothing is how I expected it to be. I’m blown away, and I feel like the ground is slipping from under my feet.

“And what do friends do, Layla?”

“Talk to each other?” I mumble, finally taking a tiny step back from him.

“Glad you remember because I still love texting with my friends.” Clay winks at me. My cheeks feel hot, and I squeeze my legs together to stop my center from throbbing. It’s been so long since someone touched me, I feel a little bit desperate. And embarrassed because apparently, I’m not above begging him to do something to me.

His gaze drops to my hips, a playful smirk pulling at his lips. “We better get back. Who knows what Angie thinks we’re doing?”

He turns around and walks away, while I release the breath I’ve been holding. The innuendo in his words is obvious. I have no idea what’s going on, why he’s so flirty with me.

He can’t possibly still be in love with me. No, that’s impossible. Not after everything I did.

Right?

Chapter 15

Pink Glasses

LAYLA

Now, September

Angieand I are sitting on my backyard patio. She’s in the middle of a call with one of her suppliers, discussing some new menu options. I was doomscrolling through my socials until I fell down a @WINSTON_DA_WEEN rabbit hole. These two dogs are so different yet so much fun to watch. They’re adorable. Since Maya and I accidentally came across one of their videos, I haven't stopped watching them. She loves them too, especially Willa, so that’s what I tell anyone who sees me looking: it’s all Maya’s doing.

I look up from my phone, and my eyes land on Maya. She’s playing with Cooper, throwing him a ball over and over again, struggling to get it out of his mouth. Her laughter reverberates through the yard, echoing through my body and warming my skin. The videos I’m watching and seeing her so happy relaxes me a bit, bringing me a pinch of comfort. And I swear to God, I need it today.

“You’re huffing louder than Coop.” I swivel my head to Angie and find her staring at me. One perfectly plucked eyebrow is arched, and a knowing smirk is on her lips. “What’s wrong?”

I lock my phone, toss it onto the table in front of me, and take another long breath. “I want Maya to wear her glasses.”

“Okay.” Angie nods, getting comfortable on the wooden bench. She puts her hand on her growing belly and slowly caresses it. The temperature today is perfect. Not too hot and not too humid, a little bit of sun, warm wind, and a clear sky. A perfect day in the middle of September. I stretch my legs in front of me. My gaze falls to my thick thighs in my jean shorts, and I scowl. I should wear something that hides them better.

“Do you think it will be a problem?” Angie asks, returning me to our conversation.

“No?” I glance at Maya again. She’s lying on her back on a blanket. Her hands are lifted as she plays with Pua, a plushy pig fromMoana. Cooper lies beside her, his head resting on his long legs. “I’m worried. Glasses are one thing, but a patch? It will be a whole different story to convince her to wear that.”

“Didn’t you say that the doctor talked to you both about the importance of glasses and an eye patch?”

I laugh. “Angie, she’s two. Do you really think she understands?”

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