Page 61 of Beautiful Thing

I hurt Layla.

That’s something I promised myself I’d never do. I’ve seen the look of devastation on her face a hundred times over the past few years. I’ve watched the rest of the world disappoint her repeatedly and I told myself that would never be me. I swore I’d always be the one to save her from her pain.

But tonight I was the cause of those tears gathering in her eyes. And I’m kicking myself for it. I should have never put my hands on her to begin with. I should have kept my distance.

I knew from the get-go that I’m not a man who views intimacy casually. I knew that touching her would easily make me lose my grip on my control. Yet I went and crossed the line, turning her on, getting her all worked up. And when she naturally tried to take things further, I was the one to back out. Dick move.

Sticking to my convictions ended up making her cry. And now, she probably hates me. Giving in to that moment of weakness was definitely not worth it. Clearly.

Rivulets of water pour down my face, plastering my hair to my forehead and stinging my eyes. Over and over, I continue to bang my head against the wet bathroom tile.

Ireallyfucked up. I don’t know how I’m going to fix this.

25

ARCHER

All day at work, Layla has been giving me the cold shoulder. Though I can’t really say I blame her, after I came onto her like a horny neanderthal, only to push her away moments later.

I’m not sure if she’s embarrassed by the way we both lost control in my kitchen last night, or if she’s hurt over how I stopped it from going further.All I know is she refuses to have anything to do with me.

I hate the distance I’ve caused between us. Because despite my pathetic crush these past few years, we’ve always been able to somewhat maintain our friendship, even though things were sometimes weird between us. But today’s just been cold and quiet and awkward.

And I want to fix it.

I want to apologize, but then that would mean having a conversation about what happened last night, and that seems worse than just bearing through this Layla-shaped ice storm.

I’m working in my office late in the day when I hear Nolan’s voice coming from the front of the store. “Hey Layla. How’s it going? Do you know where my brother is?”

From behind my desk, I can see just enough of her to catch her shrugging. “Holed up in his office, I guess…” Even her voice doesn’t sound like its usual cheerful self.

Nolan appears in my doorway moments later, too jolly and too chatty for my current mood. “Hey man. The roof of my storage shed caved in under all that snow. I need a solution that’ll last until the spring.”

I glance at my wall-mounted clock that tells me it’s almost closing time. “And you need this solutionright now?”

I always appreciate the business my family brings to my store, but I’m knee-deep in trying to figure out these stupid formulas on this stupid budgeting spreadsheet, and I’m just hoping to get this done before it’s time to go home.

Layla appears in my office doorway, her mahogany eyes lacking their customary sparkle. “Hey, Layla. Do youthink you can help Nolan find some roofing nails and some tarp?”It’s probably only the third time we’ve traded words today.

She won’t even look in my direction. Her eyes touch on everything but me.

Then the alarm on her phone starts ringing. “Can’t. It’s the end of my shift. Sorry, Nolan. I’ve got to pick up my son from daycare before they start charging double. If you come by here tomorrow, I can help you out.”

“Sounds good.” My brother nods. “By the way, Inez mentioned you might want some of the baby furniture we’re trying to get rid of. I don’t want to pressure you but with the storage shed falling apart, when do you think you could swing by the house to pick out what you want?”

“We’ll get that done by the end of the week,” I respond for Layla. The death glare she shoots me makes me instantly regret speaking up for her.

In contrast to the frightful look she just gave me, she offers Nolan a sweet smile. “I’ll text Inez to see how we can sync up our schedules this week. Thanks again for the offer.”

“Cool. We’ll all have dinner,” my brother suggests.

She nods faintly. “Sounds good.”

Layla slides her cashbox across my desk and turns to leave.

I lift my hand to wave, but she’s already grabbed her jacket, making her way toward the front. “I…I’ll be home soon!” I call out, but the only response I get is the sound of the bells tinkling over the front door when it bangs shut.

Fucking fantastic.

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