*(p.s. this is a long chapter, if there are parts you think should be taken out/condensed, let me know)*
Chapter 12
***
A softly draped, cotton white button down. Silky smooth, chocolate brown cascades of curls. An invigorated, euphoric radiation of unleashed, feminine power.
Lucas was right, I am more confident with my hair down.
When I enter the conference room of testosterone and cologne, I don't have to clear my throat for attention. Even Lucas, drawn in a conversation, follows every gaze and stills when finding mine.
~
An hour later, established executives who've never spoken to me before, actually approach and gift me with compliments. I'm on cloud nine on my way to my office, to grab my purse and head out for the day, when Grant and Lucas follow in.
"What a transformation!" Grant announces with a grin. "Seems like yesterday really helped, huh? Maybe you guys should tackle all your projects as a pair from now on."
"Not possible." Lucas interjects. Though his tone is light, there's tension in the lines of his mouth. "Layla and I are experts in completely different areas. I can't do her job, just like she can't do mine."
I scoff with a smile. "Speak for yourself. I can do your job just fine. I just choose not to."
"I think it would still do you two good to exchange each other's knowledge, I'd like to see that happen." He raises an eyebrow at Lucas, and I don't know if it's in my imagination, but there's almost a forceful pressure that lingers too long.
"Yeah. Sure." Lucas agrees with dismissive impassion, walking towards the window.
When Grant leaves, I want to ask Lucas about their questionable exchange, but the vibration in his pocket interrupts my efforts. He looks at his phone with a stony expression, then shows me the caller ID before putting Casey on speaker.
"Hey, Casey. What's up?" He brings a finger to his lips to tell me to be quiet.
"Hey, so about tonight..." My friend drawls, before falling into a violent coughing fit. "I think I'm getting really sick...so we might need to push it."
Lucas sighs, but I shoot him a warning glare. He clicks his jaw before answering. "I'm sorry you're not feeling well. When can you meet?"
"Oh, um... well, it's Layla's birthday in two days. I'll be busy preparing since it's at my place, but maybe we can talk when you come that night."
Oh crap. Lucas is invited to my birthday?! Moments from New York that invade my mind even when I fight them, flicker with stubborn persistence, cloaking me with guilt and anxiety. Nothing's happened, yet nothing's the same.
"Are you sure you can't meet tomorrow, even for a few minutes?" He asks.
"I wish I could, but I'll be running errands all day." She coughs, sounding brutally ill. "Sorry, but it's hard to talk. I'll text you the details later, ok?"
When Lucas hangs up with a pissed off head shake, I'm about to argue the logic behind being angry for something out of Casey's control, but now it's my turn to answer a call.
I scowl and show it to Lucas. He motions for me to put her on speaker. Normally I wouldn't, but the suspiciousness of the situation pulls me and I oblige. "Hey Casey, what's up?"
"Oh my God, girl! I just lied to Lucas that I'm sick so I could get out of seeing him!" She giggles.
My jaw slacks and I stare wide-eyed at Lucas, who's glaring at my phone. I blink, struggling to remain neutral. "W-why would you do that?"
"Cause I'm pretty sure he wants to ends things, and I need one last shot of wowing him before I let him." She casually explains, traffic noise in the back. I bet she's out shopping. "I'm out shopping for a sexy dress, can't wait until your birthday!"
I palm my forehead, nails scraping against my skull. "Casey...that's not a good idea-"
"I know, I know. But you always tell me to not let people walk all over me. So can I at least look hot when he tells me we're done? Got to go. Bye!"
A long, uncomfortable silence stretches when she hangs up. Neither Lucas nor I have the energy to make sense of it. We quietly walk out of the office, refusing to entertain the drama.
~
If there's one thing definitive about Casey, it's that she needs someone who won't take advantage of her gullible nature. In my head, Jacob - her childhood friend - is the obvious choice. The guy opens doors for strangers, entertains grandparents at parties, and is studying to be a veterinarian. He's the epitome of niceness.
But the problem with Casey is that she's been treated like a princess since leaving her mother's womb, which has made her a little...spoiled, and stubborn, and shallow. In her eyes, Jacob is a worn out sweater that's been in her closet for ages, whereas Lucas is the shiny, limited edition leather jacket at a storefront window.
My mind's so preoccupied with Casey, that by the time my birthday rolls around, I don't realize how nervous I am to be around Lucas outside of work again. To make matters worse, my dad completely forgot his midnight text message. That was the one sliver of comfort I was looking forward to.
Every year, on my birthday, he texts me at midnight. Every year, I stay up with childlike anticipation. Waiting for my phone to light up. So I can hug the devise between my fingers and read his words over and over. Relishing the faint warmth of intimacy.
Maybe the Beijing clients are really, really on his ass. But would it kill him to choose me, at least once? Would it kill him to acknowledge me? To make me feel like I matter?
~
"Where's Casey?" Vadim asks, filling my fourth shot of tequila.
"Probably getting ready for a dramatic entrance..."
There are about twenty - twenty five? - people at her pool party. Only a handful know me, the rest are acquaintances that probably don't realize they're here for a birthday. Latin music purrs in the back, a few guests dance nearby, the rest lounge around the patio, drinking and conversing.
My best friend's definition of love is to surround me with a large crowd and dress me like one of her dolls. Usually I argue against it, but I guess this time, out of guilt, I went along. The sky blue dress reaches mid thigh, a bit too short for my taste. I feel eighteen instead of twenty five.
Even Lucas was surprised. His eyes went wide when he came over, wrapped me in one-armed, short-lived, uncommitted hug, blurted happy birthday and disappeared for a drink. Now, he's with Jacob and Regine on the patio couch, engaged in an unknown discussion. Sharing a scary Marine story, I assume, judging from how engaged and shocked his listeners seem.
"Cheers, birthday girl." Vadim smiles, tapping his shot glass on my nose. We take another shot, before he lights a joint and takes a drag, clouding my vision in swirls of grey smoke.
Casey finally emerges from the house. A sultry, red dress hugs her curves as she glides her hips towards Lucas. To my surprise, the first person to acknowledge her is Jacob. I'd expect a blush or a weak hand wave, but no. He stands up to approach, twirls her for a full look, and does a chef's kiss with fingers, making Casey giggle.
"May I drink with the birthday girl?" David appears, blocking my view. He's the only one dressed in a button down, hair combed sideways.
"Are you sure God will let? You might go crazy and act like a normal, horny guy." Vadim teases, grabbing him a glass.
David responds with a flat look, but softens when I raise my glass to cheer. Thirty minutes later, I'm tipsy enough to sweep all worries under a rug and pull Vadim to dance bachata, quickly remembering why our friends with benefits phase didn't last too long.
"You're not leading." I complain.
"You're not letting." He retorts with playful anger.
"Make me." I smile. "If you can't, that's your problem."
I groan when our arms tangle like pretzels. This is worse than playing twister. Bachata is supposed to be sexy, and all I want to do is kick him in the shin.
"May I have this dance?" David interrupts. His face is steaming red. Eyes hooded with a lazy grin.
"Dude, you're already dancing." Vadim smirks. He's right, David is standing with an open palm, swaying back and forth like a flower in a meadow.
"I'll take that as a yes." He concludes when I giggle. His hand pries me away from Vadim and pulls me to him, taking me by surprise. "I want to dance with my Layla."
"Not your Layla." I correct, discomfort creeping. "And don't step on my toes."
The music changes to a slow rhythm, which is great because David doesn't have to move much; reducing risks of damage. But the optimism is short lived, because he brings me closer. It's like dancing with that one uncle who gets too touchy at family events.
"You're so beautiful, Layla. I mean, you're always beautiful, but today, today, you're es-especially beautiful."
"That's sweet." I clip with a tight smile. "But my feet hurt, maybe we should sit, huh?"
"But the song's not over yet." He pouts. The way he holds my waist makes my skin crawl. "I have a confession to make."
"Is your confession that you're wasted out of your mind? Let's talk when we're sober, ok?"
"No..." He drawls with sadness. "I'm too weak when I'm sober. If I don't say it now, I might never say it. Ever. And I'll go the rest of my life thinking I should've."
"David, please don't. This is not a good-"
"I like you. I really like you." He continues, eyes overflowing with warmth that makes me tear up with a shitty feeling. Have I led him on? Am I going to lose a friend? "I would love it if you give me a chance to make you happy."
"I...I don't think so." Bile rises in my stomach, churning with panic. "You're a great guy. Honestly, you're amazing. But I don't see you that way."
"But you haven't tried." He comes closer. I feel his breath on my face, and my pulse screams to escape. "Just try. Just try it at least once." He brings his lips across the distance and-
And my hands fly to shove him away. It's a quick reflex that takes him off guard and he doesn't register to let go of my waist. So when he stumbles back, I fall forward. My knees meet the pavement with jolting pain and I wince. Burning blood gushes to the area, and I push off my hands to stand back up, when a familiar, gruff, deep voice cuts through chaos.
"What happened? You ok?" Lucas asks, pulling me up.
My knees are ashy and red; specs of blood form around the areas. People stare, some murmur. "I'm fine, I'm just a big clutz..." I mumble under my breath, hiding behind my hair.
"Layla, I'm sorry! Are you hurt?" David's desperate voice comes near. He puts his hand on my shoulder, but Lucas wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me against him.
"If you can't behave when you're drunk, then don't drink." He snaps at David.
"It wasn't his fault, I'm fine." I defend.
"Layla, you ok? What's going on?" Casey rushes with Regine and Vadim. Her forehead creases with pain when she sees my knees. "Oh my God, let's get you inside to clean up!"
"I'm ok, I just can't stand in these heels..." I shift from one foot with another wince. Lucas pushes my hip against his, holding me tight to alleviate some of the pressure from my feet.
Distracted with physical and emotional discomfort, I realize too late that Casey is in front of us, witnessing our closeness. Her eyes lower to his arm, then back between us two. "What's going on? Are you guys together?"
I choke a forced laughter. "Are you insane? The only thing between Lucas and I is mutual hatred and distrust. Trust me, he's the last guy I'll ever be with."
"Do you like Layla?" Casey asks, ignoring me. "Were you just using me to get her?"
"God, no." He says lightly, as if the matter amuses him. He sounds like a parental figure among children. "I don't play games like that, Casey. This is a huge misunderstanding."
"Just say that you like her Lucas." Casey snaps, crossing her arms. "Don't lie to me."
Lucas sighs and moves me to sit on a chair next to the commotion. "Sit still for a second." He mutters before straightening up. "Casey-"
"What? Were you using me this whole time for my best friend?"
"No. Nothing like that."
"Then what? Explain."
"Oh, now you want to talk?" He chuckles under his breath.
"Hey, watch it." Jacob warns, adjusting his glasses.
"What is this alternate universe?" I cover my mouth in shock. I've never heard Jacob in such an aggressive manner.
"Layla, let me clean you up." David kneels beside me with a paper towel and vodka. He swipes the alcohol dipped cloth over the wound without warning, making my claws attack his wrist. "Ow! Let go, I'm just trying to help."
"Leave it, I'll take care of it." Lucas snaps.
"You do like her!" Casey gasps.
"Yeah, man. I think you do." Vadim adds.
"Then why did you go out with Casey." Jacob glares.
"It was one date! God damn it, everyone needs to chill!" Lucas snaps.
"No, you need to chill! I've been nothing but nice to you." Casey yells.
"A little too nice, don't you think? Because you don't seem to get the message. What's wrong with you?"
"Lucas, do you want to die?" I glare, taking off my heels to throw them at him.
"I'm warning you, man." Jacob grits.
Lucas shrugs, palms open. "No offense, but maybe, if you weren't so desperate to get your hands around my cock, we wouldn't be in this situation."
"You asshole!" I yell, tossing my heel at his back. It doesn't do anything.
"Jerk!" Casey yells at the same time.
"That's it!" Jacob growls and launches at Lucas.
He lands a punch on the side of his face, knocking him back a few steps. His glasses fall on the ground and shatter, while everyone around us gasps in disbelief. Lucas kneels down, covering his face.
"Jacob!" Casey screeches, hands on her mouth.
"Lucas!" I get on my feet and run up to him.
Regine and Vadim tell the crowd that everything's alright, that the show is over. I try to take Lucas's hands away to see the damage, but he won't budge. Casey picks up Jacob's glasses and hands it to him; he winces at his hand, shaking the pain.
"Thank you for standing up for me." Casey tells Jacob, voice small. "I owe you new glasses."
"I'll always stand up for you." He smiles at her, quickly forgetting about his hand.
"Let's take you and Layla inside, you both need a first aid kit." She says, turning her head to me. Her frown deepens when she sees me in front of Lucas.
"I can't just leave him like this." I answer, a mixture of begging and scowling distort my face. "You guys go inside, I'll come later."
Her shoulders sink, she turns to Regine. "Can you make sure she's ok? I'm going to take Jacob inside."
"Vadim, go with them. I got it." Regine says. He hesitates for a moment, but she beckons with firmness that's too scary to refuse, so he follows Casey and Jacob inside without a word.
To my surprise, Regine takes David's arm instead of mine. "Let's go get you sobered up, buddy."
When they disappear, I pull Lucas and move him to the chair. The crowd around us dissipates. Most have gone inside, only a few are seated in the far distanced lounges, heads in their phones. I stand before him for a moment, letting the turmoil of the prior event to settle. "I'm sorry, but you kind of deserved that punch."
"I know..." He finally lowers his hand. His cheek is hardly even red. "That was the point."
"Huh?" My eyebrows scrunch, eyes bulging. "The hell? You're not even hurt."
"Why? Did I get you worried?" He smirks.
"Huh, c-can you explain what's going on?" My face burns crimson at the power shift. Even as I stand before his seated frame, he still manages to make me feel like a frail pile of limbs.
"It was all planned out." He lowers his gaze to my knees. "We should get this cleaned up."
A part of me knows that he's right, I should take care of the blood dripping down my legs, the dirt that's probably invading my system. But for some reason, I'm overwhelmed with rage and confusing frustration, unable to stop my mind from racing.
"First, I don't think going inside right now is a good idea. And second, you better give a detailed explanation before you actually get punched." I raise my fist in an useless attempt.
A moment of tension lingers while my fist stays in the air. I frown as amusement dances in specs of chestnut swirls. I frown at the way it heats my skin and quickens my pulse.
"Really?" He lifts his brow and snorts under his breath. Before I process what's happening, one of his brawny hands seizes my wrist and swiftly sets me on his thigh.
A cry of surprise dies in my throat. Every nerve ending awakes with unexpected ignition. Soft curves meet firm, muscular lines. Slender side melds into a wide, warm chest. Bare, goose-bumped legs clench in his nonchalant stance.
His arm encloses around the dip of my waist, locks me in place, eliciting a whimper. He reaches down to where David left the vodka with a paper towel, lifts them, wraps both arms around me to rip a piece off and pours some alcohol. I tighten, digging my nails into his shoulder.
"Keep clawing, and I'll bite you." He warns, unbothered, focused on the task at hand.
I sink them deeper, ready to draw blood. But when his inky and thick and wicked lashes lift to look me in the eyes with assertive silence, for some reason, I obey. His dark, glimmering gaze narrows with interest, and the side of his mouth slowly arcs with approval, fogging all coherence in tingling swaths of flames.
Electricity sizzles in the small spaces between us as I stare back, feverish and unblinking. Woody, earthy, citrusy scents chain me, racing my pulse in his direction, as he assesses me with a curious gaze, a dark mischief lurking beneath it.
Reality only hits when he presses the cloth on my wound, causing me to flinch. He fans the pain with one hand, cleaning with the other. When he's done, he finally releases me.
"Was that so bad?" He smiles, getting on his feet.
I stand before him, and for the first time, I'm rendered mute and stupid.
Who is this guy?
~ A/N ~
Leave it to Layla to lose her marbles just from sitting on his lap. Gosh, what's going to happen when he does more? (muahahaha)
Reminder to punch that star to vote! (helps me w/ the aglorithm <3).
FYI, everything about the punch will be explained in the next chapter, in case you're confused.