Chapter 4

Practice on Friday is long and hard. We have the Denver Devils on Sunday, and Coach doesn't want us overlooking them just because they haven't won a game yet this year. What I want to do when I get home is to lounge on my couch and binge-watch several episodes of a new crime show I found on Netflix, but Eli's text changes my plans.

Eli:Guys night at my house.

Eli:Okay, it's actually team babysitting because Court, Mila, and Layla are doing girls night and Landon and I are in charge of Margot. We're calling in reinforcements.

Eli:It will still be fun. I promise.

I laugh and send a text saying I'll be there. And not just because there's a chance I'll see Layla when she picks up Margot. If Landon doesn't just take her home with him, that is. It's still a chance. Even if it's a small one. And like Eli said today, Layla needs to see me showing up and sticking around.

I smile as I pull up the cobblestone driveway of Eli and Court's house. The bushes and trees that surround the home give it a secluded feel, something they chose specifically for when they start their family. Every time I've been here, the atmosphere is laid back, like the football A-listers showing up to barbecue or hang out here are no big deal. It's an atmosphere I crave, and maybe that's part of what has drawn me to Layla—her chosen family in Eli, Court, Mila, Landon, and Court's aunt Sophie. My parents and I are close, but living so far apart from them means our relationship isn't as close as I wish it was. Mrs. Van Buren might be almost like an adopted grandma, but I shy away from thinking of her as anything like that. Plus it's all complicated, and while I enjoy her company, it's not exactly relaxing to hang out with her.

I park my Bronco in the driveway next to Landon's car and then push my door open to head inside. Eli answers the door right after I ring the doorbell, so they've clearly been waiting for me. Landon stands just behind him, Margot nestled against his chest in a wrap that I see Layla wearing all the time.

"This is what you called in reinforcements for?" I tease, gesturing to the adorable sleeping baby.

Eli claps a hand on my shoulder. "To be honest, Knight, this is an intervention."

I scowl at him. "Are you seriously going to try and talk me out of my feelings for Layla?" I ask. Then I glance over at Landon. Maybe she's said something. Have I become a stalker without realizing it? Oh, sheesh?—

"Not at all," Eli says, shaking his head as he guides me through the entryway and into the kitchen and family room area. There's a large sectional in the family room, and after pulling me across the room, he pushes me to sit down. Landon stands behind him, swaying back and forth.

"Intervention is the wrong word," Landon says. "More like we're here to welcome you to the club."

I raise my eyebrows and look back and forth between them. They're an interesting pair. Eli is tall and muscled, the way you expect a football player to be. Landon is equally tall, but with a much slimmer frame, the way you'd expect a college professor to look. He's just missing the collared shirt and glasses. Instead he's sporting an LA Rays tee with Eli's number on the back and wearing a baby like she's an accessory.

"The club," I repeat.

"The former best friends club," Eli says. "Well, you aren't a former best friend?—"

"Yet," Landon says with an encouraging nod at me.

"But we intend to get you there." Eli leans over to clap his hand on my shoulder again. He's wearing the kind of look that Coach Barrin, the offensive coordinator, does when he wants us to run some wild play intended to catch the defense off guard. He likes those, and so does Eli, so this look doesn't surprise me.

"Ohhh-kay." I glance between them both again.

Landon sits down on the ottoman in front of me, still swaying back and forth, though Margot looks conked out, mouth open and drooling on Landon's shirt and everything. "The first thing you need to know about Layla's past is that she thought that Margot's dad loved her and he turned out to be a first-class a?—"

"Not in front of the baby, Landon," Eli admonishes, and I bite back a snicker.

"He was a charmer," Landon continues, giving Margot a light pat on the back, presumably in apology for his almost bad language. "The point is that he's a fairly famous actor—if you're into superheroes or whatever—who dropped her about thirty-seconds after sleeping with her." He grumbles something about Mila, but I don't quite catch it, and when I look to Landon for clarification, he doesn't repeat it.

I squint. I'm gonna be honest. Landon does strike me as the type of guy who's into superheroes or whatever. "Wait." I hold up a hand. "Like what superhero?"

Eli's jaw clenches hard. "Phantom Hex."

My mouth drops. I'm not surprised that the Phantom Hex—it's a relief to me that I can't remember his real name right now—went for Layla. Have you been listening? She's beautiful and sweet, and she remembers things like how you want your hot cocoa half cream and half chocolate. But that Phantom Hex is the idiot who walked away from her? And from Margot? Isn't he, like, America's Hero or something?

"You liked that movie?" Landon asks, his eyes narrowing.

I shake my head quickly. "Meh. It was fine. I definitely hate it now."

He grins. "Good."

"Our point is," Eli says, his own expression relaxing, "that Layla is very wary not only of dating, but especially of well-known, good-looking guys who are charming."

"You guys think I'm good-looking? I'm touched." I put a hand over my heart. Eli laughs, and I shake my head. "One thing we don't have to worry about is me being especially charming. I'm not even average charming. Or below average, for that matter."

Eli squints at me in contemplation. "That's good. So what we're here for is to coach you on how to go from the friend zone to the end zone."

Landon groans. "I told you not to say that one. It's too cheesy."

Eli beams anyway. "I liked it."

I chuckle at them both.

"Don't worry, Linc. We've got a game plan."

Landon face-palms and shakes his head. "Layla is moving into her own apartment next week. Eli and I could handle it, but obviously you should come and help."

My heartbeat picks up. "Obviously."

"And keep going to the bakery, of course," Eli adds.

I roll my eyes, but that doesn't stop my face from going hot at the reminder that he knows why I show up there every day. He holds his hand out for a high five, and I slap it, then we slap the back sides of our hands before he clutches it in a handshake the way we do on the field.

"Don't worry, Knight. We've been where you are," he says.

"If you use another football metaphor …" Landon warns.

"I was just going to say we're the exact right guys to help Linc get the girl," Eli protests. He looks over at me, and his smile widens. I have no idea what metaphor he was going to use, and I'm finding myself disappointed to not find out. What I do know is that they're right. I might have a chance with Layla Delaford with these two on my side.