Chapter 18

I take a second after pulling up to Eli's house to draw in some deep breaths. My mom getting so excited over seeing Layla's daughter has had me worked up since I left New York. I'm growing closer and closer to Layla, but just as a friend, and that's hard when every moment has me falling in love with her. Thinking of my mom snuggling up to Margot has me picturing all sorts of other domestic visions that make my heart pound. Being the one to take care of Layla and Margot instead of subtly coaxing her ex into being responsible. Letting Layla chase her dreams. Coming home from practice to kiss Layla and snuggle up on the couch with Margot.

After I've taken a few deep breaths and assured myself that I can be normal and calm about Layla tonight, I open the door of my Bronco and head inside.

Hurley answers the door, and I grin as I hear the noise from inside—laughing and happy conversations of people who are my second family.

I overhear Eli telling Landon about the latest house listing he sent his parents. With his position with the Rays more solid and with Mila engaged to Landon, his parents are talking about moving to LA from their home in Phoenix. It has me wondering how my parents would feel if I suggested something similar. It would be easy to coax them. I've just resisted because I feel bad asking them to do that. But if Layla becomes a part of my future too? I might not even have to ask. They'll want to be near Margot and any other grandkids.

"Hey, Knight," Hurley says, leading me through the entryway to where everyone else is gathered.

"What's up?" I ask. I expect to hear the sounds of Mark Travis's kids romping around, but I don't see him or his wife. Maybe they're outside, watching the kids play around on the beach for a minute? I glance out the large windows that overlook Eli's yard and the beach farther down, but it's empty. "Where's Mark?" I ask.

Eli, who hears my question as he comes in, grimaces. "Kids are all throwing up."

I catch my breath. I dropped off the chocolate chip cookies I bought this morning at the bakery truck at Mark's house on my way into the facility. His kids love Mila's chocolate chip cookies, and Mark asked me to grab some for him too. I saved a couple for myself, but I didn't eat them when I got home because I was coming over here.

I hold off panicking though, even if this feels just like when Mrs. Van Buren called me. "Have they been sick?" I ask Hurley.

"Nah," Hurley says. "They were planning on coming all day. Mark called just a few minutes ago."

Sudden onset of an illness. This doesn't feel like a coincidence. My stomach squirms more, but maybe I'm overreacting.

"I gave the cookies I got at the truck this morning to Mark," I say, hoping one of my friends knows something that will dismiss more food poisoning as the cause.

Eli glances over at Mila, who turns to him. "What?" she asks, moving closer, and I can tell she's only heard part of the conversation.

"Linc gave the cookies he bought at your truck this morning to Mark," Eli says.

Mila's eyes widen, and she looks at me. "That's probably not a coincidence that they're sick, is it?" Mila whispers, horrorstruck.

A pit forms in my stomach. No. It can't be.

Layla comes up next to Mila, Margot on her hip, and I realize I've been so caught up in Mark's kids being sick that I didn't even realize she was already here. First the cookies I took to Mrs. Van Buren and her friends, and now the ones I brought to Mark. Is it something in my Bronco? No, it can't be. Landon's friend said it was arsenic the first time.

"I'll check our social pages," Layla says, but her expression says the same thing the rest of us are thinking. There isn't going to be anything, just like the first time.

"No, it can't be a coincidence," Landon says, joining the conversation. "And I don't think it's a coincidence that it's only happened to stuff that Linc is buying." He stares at me. "Either someone is targeting you specifically, or they're hoping to bring down Mila's business by poisoning someone high profile."

Mila gasps and squeezes his arm. "Lincoln!" She looks devastated to think that someone is using her to hurt me. Or hurting her through me.

Layla looks at me, squinting. "Is this your diet plan you were so secretive about?" she says with an arch of her eyebrow. "You never eat the stuff you buy?"

I can't help the laugh that escapes, despite the circumstances. Margot copies me and claps her hands. I reach out toward her, asking Layla with my eyes if I can hold her. She hands her over.

"I kept a couple for myself," I defend myself. It takes a second to settle Margot into a natural position in my arms, but I finally hold her close to my chest, her sitting on my forearm. I ignore the knowing looks everyone in the circle casts me, and then realize I've started swaying.

"Well, don't eat them!" Mila cries.

Landon puts an arm around her and pulls her close. "I'll swing by your house on the way home. We should have Dillon test it and see if it's arsenic again," Landon says.

"Of course." I've heard Layla say before that snuggling Margot is a natural way to instantly reduce anxiety, and I think she's right. Despite how serious this discovery is about the cookies and more poisoning happening, holding Margot makes everything feel doable. Maybe holding her needs to be part of my pregame ritual. I'd be unstoppable.

First things first. I should figure out a way to date her mom.

"I'll call Mark," Eli says. "Make sure they don't eat anymore." He pulls his phone out of his pocket and heads into the kitchen, where it's a little quieter.

The doorbell rings, and Hurley slips away from our little huddle to go get it. A couple more players from the offense arrive, and Astrid walks in behind them.

I lean over closer to Layla. "Sorry, I couldn't find someone who could come today, but we'll set her up with someone else. Promise." I don't want to let her down on this. I know Layla, and I know she wants what's best for her friend. Margot gives a squeal and reaches for her mom.

She waves my comment off. "That's fine." She takes Margot smoothly. "She's tired," Layla says. "Don't take it personally."

"She also barely knows me," I point out. Something I'd like to change.

"She screamed in Eli's arms earlier. It broke his heart." She presses her lips together to hold back a laugh.

"Poor Eli." I don't suppress my own chuckle.

She leans toward me, and I'm instantly aware of the light floral scent of her perfume mixed with a sweet baby scent that I recognize but can't place. I take a discreet deep breath and let my thoughts wander just for a second about pulling Layla into my arms, Margot and all.

"I know this is the wrong time," she says, "but can I tell you something?" There's hope in her eyes and a tiny smile on her lips that she bites down on to try and hide, but her eyes are glowing.

"Of course."

She bounces and leans even closer. Don't react, Linc. Don't react. She's so excited about whatever it is she's going to tell me that she might not even notice if I hauled her into my arms. Her tiny smile has grown, and it gets even wider as she says in a low voice, "My agent called today. They're doing a spinoff of LA Lights. A medical show, and they want my character." Her voice goes up in excitement at the end.

"Layla, that's awesome!" I lean over and hug her, picking her up because it's so easy to do. I love her news. It's a perfect excuse to do what I'd just been thinking about. She gasps out a laugh before I remember myself and set her back down. It was the obvious thing to do, right? In celebration. But I'm a moron. We're just friends, even if the way both she and Margot fit against me were so perfect. I clear my throat and try to temper my own excitement, since I can see Hurley side-eyeing me with a knowing grin. "I'm so glad I'm getting more of Sloane. Everyone will be."

She bounces again, keeping close to me. "I hope so. I've told Mila and Landon, but that's it. I need to keep a lid on it until it's officially announced." She laughs again. "I haven't even officially accepted. I just got the script today."

"Your secret is safe with me," I assure her. I glance up at the people in Eli's family room. He's returned and is sitting on the couch with Court. No one else is paying attention to me and Layla except for Astrid, who's standing at the counter with the guys who just came in, glancing back and forth between them and us. Landon catches my eye as he guides Mila over to the couch to sit next to Court, and he gives me a thumbs-up. I'm tempted to roll my eyes at him, or maybe shoot him back a thumbs-up of my own. My friends are all behind this last-minute game night, just like the way they've been planning parties, get-togethers, and barbecues all summer.

I should let Layla go over and talk to Astrid, who only knows her, Mila, and Landon. But selfishly, I don't want to. Not quite yet. Marek and Shurn, my other teammates here, both have girlfriends, but Astrid will be fine with them for a few more minutes.

"Can I take you out to celebrate?" I ask. "You and Margot," I add, so she knows it's another friend thing.

Her cheeks turn pink, but she nods, still smiling. "Yeah, that would be fun." She reaches up and puts a hand on my arm. "I am sorry about how it seems like someone might be out to get you. I just couldn't hold the news in any longer."

"Considering I haven't been a victim yet, maybe I'm not taking it as seriously as I should." I grimace.

She keeps her hand on my arm, even as she glances around and lowers her voice. "It might be time for Mila to call the police. That one instance, even if it wasn't enough to hurt someone, maybe seemed like a prank, but twice now? Someone's going to get more than sick if it keeps up." She turns back to me. "I can't believe you show up every day at Mila's to buy cookies for other people. You're such a good friend." She shakes her head a little, but with that smile of admiration, it makes heat flood into my cheeks. I didn't think there was any way she didn't realize how big my crush is on her, that I come to the bakery truck for her every day. But she thinks I come to support Mila. I almost burst into laughter at the notion.

I can only shrug in response, and she doesn't say anything more.

"Lincoln!" a voice says, making me turn to see Astrid approaching us. I feel, more than see, Layla taking a step back from me. "Mila just told me about the cookies," Astrid says, her expression stricken. "Are you okay?"

"Luckily I hadn't eaten any yet," I reply.

"Oh!" Surprise registers on her face before she sighs with almost exaggerated relief. "I'm so glad." She stretches out the O in "so" and leans forward to hug me. "That would not be good if you got sick," she says into my chest.

I pat her on the back, feeling awkward with her familiarity. Maybe I shouldn't. We did all go on a date together, and she could just be affectionate. I'm just an awkward guy.

She steps back quickly and flashes me a smile. "I hope this doesn't deter you from visiting the bakery truck every morning."

I flash a glance at Layla, noticing that she's standing stiffly at my side and has taken another step away. "No way," I insist.

For a second I think Astrid's almost disappointed, but then her smile widens, and I'm pretty sure I must have misread the millisecond it seemed like she was frowning. She nudges me with her elbow. "Good," she says.

Movement from the corner of my eye shows me that Layla has walked away. I turn, watching her cross the family room to drop onto the couch next to Mila, who gives her a big grin and starts cooing at Margot.

"Ready for games?" I ask Astrid, already turning away so I can go sit next to Layla. My friends set this night up for me, and I intend to do my part. I motion with my head toward the couch and then head over to drop into the seat next to Layla.

Astrid follows. She sits on the ottoman across from Layla and leans in close. "Kipp says there's going to be an LA Lights spinoff, and everyone is talking about it," she whispers. "That it's going to be a medical show. Have you heard anything?"

Layla nonchalantly lets Mila take Margot from her arms and then head down the hallway. "Yeah, I've heard about it."

She's the best actress I've ever seen. Five minutes ago, her eyes held joy and excitement that she was getting hired. Now she's cool as a cucumber. If she hadn't just told me, I'd already be on the phone with Nick, fighting for him to push harder to get her on the show.

Astrid grabs her hands and shakes them. "Oh, I hope they put Sloane on the show. You would be so great!"

Layla pulls her hands from Astrid's to envelop her in a hug. "Thanks, Astrid."

She's such a master. I'm also a thousand percent smitten.

"I think Mila just stole your baby and hid her away somewhere," I say when Mila comes back without Margot.

Layla chuckles. "I wouldn't put it past her, but her story is that she was putting Margot to bed for me."

"I thought babies only wanted their moms at bedtime." I settle back, glad that the squishy couch means that Layla's shoulder pushes up against mine when she settles back too.

"Sometimes Margot gets picky about it, but Landon and Mila have been there with her every day almost as much as me. I'm half worried she'll say Mama to Mila first." She grins, showing it's not a real worry.

"I'm glad you have friends like that to help you." I hold back the words that I want to be one of those friends too.

She smiles contentedly as she looks around the room. "Yeah."

We start off playing Pictionary, and as soon as Mila partners me and Layla up, I wonder if this is the moment that the gig is up. It has to be obvious, right? That Mila is doing this to matchmake us, and at my bidding? But Layla just grins and fist-bumps me.

She has to leave me hanging about halfway through the game when the baby monitor clipped to her pocket beeps and she checks it to see that Margot has woken up and needs resettling. "Poor thing is being moved all over the place these days," she says with a wink. "I'll be right back."

It's so tempting to follow her and try to help. Or just watch her. That's not creepy. "Do you need any help?" I ask, and then I want to slap my hand over my mouth. That is so stupid. What am I going to do?

Layla's expression softens as she looks over at me, like somehow it was the right thing to say. "Thanks, but I've got it."

I take myself out for a round, since we don't know how long Layla will be, and sit back against the couch, glancing every so often to the hallway that she disappeared down. Every time I turn my attention back to the game going on without me, I catch a friend's eye and receive a knowing look.

How can I be this transparent and Layla doesn't know? Or does she know? I can't ask her. That will be going against everything Landon and Eli told me to do by taking it slow. It will move us to a new level, where she has to acknowledge my feelings and her feelings and make a choice about what to do.

Fortunately, before I can get too deep in my head about that, Layla comes back and slides into her seat next to me.

"That was fast. You must be a pro," I say.

She chuckles. "Every time I think I am, she hits a new phase and I'm learning all over again. She's easy to settle back to sleep."

"Is it ever too much?" I ask in a low voice. I know that logically, there must be times that she struggles. My mom was always honest with me when she'd blown up out of frustration—coming to me and apologizing and letting me know that something was heavy and she was struggling. It's not an excuse, she'd say. I just wanted you to know why I reacted how I did when I don't normally do that.

"Oh, definitely," she says. "More often than I want to admit. And honestly, there's still a part of me worried that I shouldn't accept this job. That it might not be for the best. How do people just get babies and have to suddenly know what's best all the time?" She shakes her head and laughs.

"When I used to question my mom's decisions—which was a lot?—"

"Not you." Layla shakes her head. "I can't believe it."

"I was different as a teenager," I insist.

She puts a hand on my arm and eyes me sternly. "Don't try to tell me you went through an awkward stage. I've seen the pictures of you playing football in high school."

I eye her back. "Are you going to try and tell me you did?" I have also seen pictures of Layla in high school, although it probably required more stalking than her finding pictures of me.

She grins. "No, I won't." She nudges me with her shoulder. "What did your mom tell you?"

"That she was doing her best and to trust her."

"It's good advice. My mom has told me the same. Just do my best and keep trying. Don't ever give up on either of us." She leans into me a little and then suddenly straightens, leaving me disappointed.

Astrid, Hurley, and some of the other guys and friends they brought leave after the next round of Pictionary, leaving just Eli, Court, Landon, Mila, me, and Layla. Like a triple date.

"Who's up for a movie?" Landon asks, with too much enthusiasm. Layla looks at her watch, and Landon claps a hand over it. "It's only 8:30. Calm down."

I can't help the little laugh that escapes. They act like brother and sister instead of cousins. Landon has told me that they grew up just a few houses away from each other and that their family is close, doing dinners and vacations together and all of that.

She laughs. "Fine, fine. You're right." She leans closer to me. "I've stayed up far later doing videos before."

"I can say I've got to go too, so this doesn't cut into your work time," I offer, raising my eyebrows at her.

She shakes her head. "No, it's fine. Tips have been good at the truck. I can use a night off."

I'm glad that I get a few more hours with her. Even that won't be enough. I stop myself before I get caught up in a daydream again where Layla is my wife and I get to come home to her every night. Where I'm the one that Margot loves almost as much as she loves her mom and lets me put her to bed.

I give Eli a low-key glare when he chooses a rom-com. Not sure we can get any more obvious.

Court notices because she jumps in. "Oh, babe! That's my favorite one. Thank you!" She makes a show of pulling him toward her by his shirt to give him a quick kiss.

I want to groan and put my face in my hands. Layla is not stupid. But she's just laughing beside me, jumping into Landon's teasing that they get a room. Or go to their room and leave the rest of us in peace.

The other two couples cuddle up. Mila and Landon shift on the sectional to be farther away from me and Layla, and Court stretches out in the space that the departing football players left empty, her head in Eli's lap.

I hold my breath, waiting for Layla to shift as well, to get more comfortable in the ample amount of space around us, but the only thing she does is lift her legs up onto the ottoman. I follow suit, trying to subtly shift the tiniest bit closer to her.

She swings her legs off the ottoman, and I know I've been busted. But she just gives me a quick smile, turns around, and kneels on the couch, leaning over the back and grabbing a blanket from a basket there. Then she plops back down again next to me, and she's definitely closer. Our legs are touching from hip to ankle.

Accident? Not an accident? I don't dare look at her. If I do, I'll give my churning thoughts away. I keep still, then worry that I'm keeping too still. Am I breathing normally? Okay, am I hyperventilating now? I try to focus on the movie and just forget the fact that the amazing Layla Delaford is sitting right next to me, the warmth of our legs touching about to incinerate me from the inside out.

I am a hopeless fool for her, and there's no way I'm going to be able to keep my feelings inside much longer. Maybe if I just find some way to tell her and let her know that I'm not rushing her into anything. We don't need to date. I just need to let her know I'm head over heels for her before I combust.

Then she leans against my shoulder. Is the house on fire? Why aren't any of the alarms going off? Because it has to be something like a thousand degrees in here. I turn to look down at her, knowing that her initiating a cuddle between us means that me broaching the subject of our feelings won't be that off base.

Except … she's sleeping. Her eyes are closed, and from this vantage point, I can see her long, dark lashes resting against her cheeks. Even her perfect plump lips are open the slightest bit, and her shoulders rise and fall slowly.

I sit motionless, staring at her, half of me wishing I could get to my phone to take a picture and capture this moment, and the other half knowing that's definitely creepy. I can't look away, so I try to sear the memory into my brain. I can be patient with Layla with this memory to tide me over.

She's so beautiful.

I've known this since the moment I saw her at one of Eli's barbecues earlier this summer. It had made sense that she'd be stunning since Eli told me she used to be an actress, like his sister. Then she'd taken Margot from Mila, who'd been holding her, and smiled at her. It was the stuff of rom-com movie cheesiness. The sun seemed to circle around her, lighting her up. Or maybe that was the way her smile made her glow. I was a goner from the start.

Then I kept coming to the stuff Eli invited me to, and I kept seeing her. And I got to know her, and everything made her even more beautiful. The way she loved Landon and Mila. How smitten she was with her baby. Her confidence. How unafraid she was in a life that seemed to have blown up around her.

I carefully shift my arm, pressing it back against the couch to slide it up while disturbing her as little as possible. She stirs a little, but just shifts her weight so she's leaning against my chest. I gently drape my arm over her, and she snuggles in closer.

Her moves might be unconscious, but I grin all the same, and then I quickly wipe it away, knowing that likely every single person in this room is watching this interaction right now.

Very slowly, I inch down so I can lean my head back on top of the couch. I can't help a side-eyed glimpse at Eli on my left. He grins and gives me another thumbs-up. I roll my eyes—right over to my right side. Landon is at least watching the movie, but he's grinning as wide as Eli is. I turn my attention to the movie and don't look at them again.

This is the best night ever, and I'm going to enjoy every second.