Page 4 of Power Play

He ignores her, his eyes shifting between Colton and me. “Keep your hands to yourselves.”

Fuck me sideways. His little sister?

“It’s nice to meet you.” Colton nods, a bored expression marring his features. If he’s surprised that the girl I was hitting on at the coffee shop is our captain’s sister, he doesn’t show it.

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you, Layla.” I meet her gaze and see disappointment swimming behind her irises. It seems like she knew her being Benson’s sister would change everything.

I don’t do dates or relationships. And a hookup is no reason to risk my friendship with Benson.

When I was thinking about her and this party, I figured she might end up being off-limits because someone already had their eyes on her.

Little did I know, she’s off-limits for a totally different reason.

She’s my captain’s little sister…and that’s a no for me.

Chapter 2

All About My Ex

LAYLA

Now, August

After waking up,I lie still, letting the warm sunlight coming through the drawn-up curtains soak my face. It’s so peaceful and quiet, it almost feels foreign, a definite contrast to what this day is going to bring. The heavy weight in my chest serves as a reminder of the inevitable, something I’ve been trying to dodge at all costs since I found out about my ex’s transfer.

Clay Rodgers signing with the California Thunders, the team my brother plays for, wasn’t on my bingo card. And yet…it happened, and now I can no longer avoid him.

Being in the same room as my ex after three years of total silence makes me incredibly nervous. Not because of our “history,” not because I’m a single mom, and not because I don’t look the way I used to. No, all those things only add to the biggest issue, the elephant in the room that I prefer to ignore (and fail at miserably). It’s all because of the promise I made at my best friend Ava’s birthday three years ago. A promise I couldn’t keep.

And now the guy I love probably hates my guts…

The soft padding of bare feet on the wooden floor pricks my ears. I haven’t checked the time, but it must be around 8:00 a.m. if my little girl is already awake. Involuntarily, a smile blossoms on my lips as I wait for her to climb in my bed.

Maya is my little savior, a ray of hope on days when all color drains from my life and all I see is black and white. For her, I’ll move mountains, put a smile on my face even when I feel like crying. I’d do absolutely anything for her to be happy.

A light movement of my mattress, and then her warm little hand cups my cheek. My sweet, gentle girl. I open my eyes and instantly meet her gaze, those chocolate brown pools gleefully glimmering in the bright light of a new day.

“Morning, sweetie,” I say, snuggling closer and pressing my forehead to hers. “Did you sleep well?”

Maya nods. “Yes, Mommy. I saw Bon-Bon again!”

Bon-Bon? Ah, her little imaginary friend. She started talking about Bon-Bon recently, after I read her a story about a little princess and her tiny dragon friend who turned out to be a product of her imagination by the end of the story. Sure, the books I choose to read Maya aren’t exactly made for a two-year-old, but she has so much passion in her for new knowledge, always so curious about new things, that I don’t want to limit the books I read her and the cartoons she watches with me to the ones suggested for her age. All that has broadened her vocabulary so much that I can’t help but feel proud of her.

“Really? And what did you do together?”

“Nothing. She’s shy.” Her mouth collapses into a pout. “She doesn’t want to play with me.”

“I’m sorry, baby. Maybe give her a little time? People don’t always make friends quickly.”

“Mommy, Bon-Bon is not people.”

“And what is she?”

Maya lowers her gaze; a pinkish hue rises on her cheeks. “It’s a secret,” she finally whispers.

I chuckle and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her with me as I plop onto my back. Trying to probe her about Bon-Bon won’t work; she’ll tell me when she feels like it. Her trust is way more important to me. Lifting Maya, I hold her up above me, smiling from ear to ear. Her mouth falls open in surprise, and then she bursts out giggling. The sound is pure and infectious and fills the room with joy, and the tight knot in my chest loosens up a bit.

“What do you want for breakfast?” I ask, holding Maya’s gaze.

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