10. Layla

As my eyes flutter open, the gentle morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. I stretch lazily, the sheets tangling around my legs as I become fully aware of my surroundings.

The memories of last night come rushing back in a whirlwind of confusion and desire. We had shared a passionate night, the heat between us igniting flames that burned brighter than I could have imagined. But now, as I lie here alone in my bed, the emptiness beside me is a stark reminder of the reality of our situation.

I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I glance around the room. There"s no sign of Brock anywhere. No trace of his presence except for the lingering scent of his cologne on the pillows. It"s as if he was never here at all.

A pang of disappointment shoots through me, mingled with a sense of longing I can"t quite shake.

He told me something so insane yesterday, but it felt so right, so familiar. It's the first time that I've ever felt a "memory" in a way.

I didn't remember the time together that he said we had, but I definitely remembered his body against mine. Is that even possible? None of this makes sense.

But the ache between my legs tells me otherwise. The memory of his touch is still fresh in my mind, sending shivers down my spine as I recall the way his hands felt against my skin, the way his lips trailed fire across my body.

I bury my face in my hands, trying to make sense of it all. How could I have slept with him so easily, knowing so little about him? And why can"t I stop thinking about him, even now?

The thought that he might be the father of my child only adds to the confusion. I try to push it to the back of my mind, telling myself it"s impossible. But deep down, I know there"s a part of me that fears the truth.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my feet meeting the cool hardwood floor as I stand up.

I make my way to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face in an attempt to clear my mind. But no matter how hard I try, I can"t shake the feeling of confusion that lingers like a shadow in the back of my mind.

My phone begins ringing. I look to see that Lula is calling.

"I'm so sorry about last night."

"Girl," she breathes on the other end. "You sounded panicked when you called last night. I drove by on the way to the shop this morning and there is a very nice car in your driveway."

"Oh my God," I gasp as I cover my face embarrassedly.

"Spill the details."

"I don't know…"

There's a knock on the door.

Did Brock come back?

"Lula can I call you back? There's someone at the door."

"If you don't call me back I'll show up there when I'm done with work. I want all the dirty details."

"Okay," I laugh.

I go downstairs and open the front door. Randy is standing on the other side, another bouquet of roses in his hands.

"Hey beautiful, just wanted to make your morning special."

"Randy."

"I know, I know, the flowers are gorgeous right? Just like you."He takes a step forward, trying to come into the house. I step in front of him.

"Randy, please. You can't keep doing this. You didn't try this hard when we were together, why now?"

"I didn't realize what I had, Layla. I'm so sorry. I love you and…"

I blow out a breath. He's still trying to get into the house but I put my arm up on the door frame and put my foot out so I can keep him at bay.

"You don't love me. You love the idea of me. You love all of the things that I did for you. This isn't the first time we've broken up. I've told you numerous times what I needed from you and you never listened. I wanted commitment, you couldn't give that to me. I wanted dates and flowers, I wanted time with you and you couldn't give that to me regularly. Everyone in town knew that we were a couple, but you refused that, you'd just tell people we were friends. I literally gave you everything and you gave me nothing. But all of that is on me. I did those things in hopes that you'd love me and I lost myself in the process. You say that you didn't know what you had, but you did Randy. We were on again and off again in high school and as adults. I can't do this. Go back to one of the women you were sleeping with, because I don't want you."

"Layla."

"No Randy. I've tried to be nice, but I just can't do it anymore. Our relationship was one-sided. It made me feel drained and gross. It wasn't all bad, there were moments that you were great but… I'm not interested in half-ass effort."

"Breckin…"

"Doesn't even know you. We've been together for some time, and he doesn't even know who you are really."

"I've changed."

"You always say that," I snap. "I'm done saying no. It's a complete sentence and you're not going to change my mind."

"Heyyyyyy," Eric says awkwardly as I realize that he and Breckin have ridden their bikes over from Eric's house.

"Mommy!" Breckin exclaims as he dumps his bike in the driveway and runs toward me.

"Everything okay?" Eric asks.

"Randy was just leaving."

"Layla, come on, please, just hear me out."

I shake my head. I hear someone clear their throat. Brock is standing behind Eric and Randy holding a bag of food and three coffees.

"Randy," Eric interjects. "Now is not the time. If you have something to say then you can say it when Breckin isn't around."

"Can you mind your own business, for once?" Randy snaps.

Eric glances down at the ground, chuckling as he shakes his head.

"Randy, go."

He glares at me, throws the flowers on the ground and stalks off toward his car. It's then that I realize Brock's car had been parked there the entire time because Randy is parked behind him.

Randy doesn't love me, doesn't miss me. He saw the car in my driveway overnight and couldn't stand that I moved on.

"I will end him," Eric growls as Randy leaves.

"He's gone. He won't be back, I hope," I sigh as I shake my head.

Breckin is obliviously playing with his hockey stick and a puck in the driveway trying to do tricks. I am grateful he wasn't paying attention to anything that was happening.

"I'm glad you finally stood up to him," Eric says. He glances over at Brock. "What are you doing here?"

"Coffee and donuts," he says awkwardly showing his purchases to my brother.

"Why?"

"I saw you and the kid riding bikes and thought it would be fun."

"Bro, we've been through this. Is there a full moon? Why am I fighting guys off my sister's doorstep?"

"It's coffee and donuts," Brock chuckles. "Not a marriage proposal."

"Eric, no one asked you to fight anyone. And he clearly is here for you, not me."

"I'm here for all three of you," Brock replies, his eyes boring into mine.

"I'm not going to allow you or Breckin to get hurt."

"I appreciate all that you do, especially that you always look out for us. But this isn't okay."

"It's been a long time since I've been home. It's been even longer since you and I have gotten to hang out without the media watching or people interrupting us. Can we… just hang out, all four of us? I haven't had normal interactions in a really long time," Brock interjects.

My brother lets out a long sigh before he rolls his eyes and nods his head.

"I promised Breckin practice before his game later. Would you like to join us?"

"That would be incredible," Brock laughs as his eyes flit to mine.

I nod and he grins widely. I take the food and coffee from him and go inside while the three of them start playing hockey in the driveway.

I take a long pull from the coffee as soon as I'm in the kitchen.

Well, this has started as a very weird day.

"Layla," Eric calls as he walks into the kitchen with me. "Are you sure you're okay with Brock being here and being around Breckin?"

"You're the one who just left him alone with him," I tease.

"Shit."

"He's your best friend, right?"

"Yeah, I mean, we're not as close as we once were but, yeah."

"Do you trust him to be around Breckin?"

"Yes. He's going to leave though. He's going to go back to Nashville for hockey. I don't want either of you to get attached."

"Eric, I literally just got out of a very long, very draining relationship, if you could call it that, with Randy. I'm not looking for anything right now. But is it really cool for my son to get to play hockey in his driveway with two professional athletes? That's all I care about."

"Okay, but… he's off-limits, Lay."

"Why?"

"Because he's my best friend and I know him better than anyone else. He was really messed up over a girl around the time of your accident. He told me he met the woman he was going to marry and then she ditched him with no explanation. He has not had a good relationship since."

"And I've never had one according to other people."

"He's a good man, but…"

"Did we hang out?"

"The night after my game we all hung out with Mom and Dad. We were in the car with him on the way to Maine. You got to know him a little better on the job site. But, as far as I know, you didn't hang out with him much. I may have threatened everyone's life if they went near you, and I don't see Brock being the guy who broke that rule. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. Seeing him yesterday at the game, he felt familiar," I shrug as I turn around and lay the donuts out on a plate.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I can't explain it. But again, I'm not interested in dating him or anyone else. So don't be all overbearing and ridiculous."

"I'll try my best," he laughs.

"Thanks, Eric. I really do appreciate you so much."

"I know, sis. I'm so glad that I get to be in your and Breckin's life like this. I'm always so grateful that I was drafted by the Bruins."

"Me too," I smile. "Now go play hockey with your nephew. He's out here living his best life before his game later."

"He's ready."

Eric goes back outside, and I stand in the kitchen for a few minutes processing everything from the last hour.

I inhale and exhale before I go to the front porch. As I reach the bottom of the steps, I pause to take in the scene before me. Eric and Brock are already out in the driveway, engaged in a lively game of hockey with Breckin. My son is a bundle of energy and enthusiasm, his tiny frame darting across the cement with surprising agility.

I find a spot on the porch steps and settle in to watch the action. Breckin may be small, but he"s quick on his feet, his movements fluid and confident.

I smile as I watch them play. The two grown men are having a blast out there and eating up every second with Breckin. And he's stealing the show. With a series of slick moves, he manages to maneuver the puck past Eric and score a goal. The grin that spreads across his face is infectious, and I clap and cheer along with him.

I glance over at Brock, and my heart swells with pride. His eyes are fixed on Breckin, a look of absolute love and adoration on his face.

Could he really be Breckin's father? They have the same eyes or am I just seeing what I want to see?

The game continues, each of them taking turns, laughing and shouting as they chase after the puck. It"s a simple moment, but it"s filled with so much joy and love that it takes my breath away.

I glance down at my watch and realize Breckin needs to eat something before we prep to go to his game.

"Hey, let's get inside and take a breather. I'll make you some lunch."

"I'm starving!" Breckin calls out as he rubs his belly. "Mr. Brock, are you coming with us to my game?"

"I wouldn't miss it, buddy."

"Yes!"

Eric claps Brock on the back as they follow Breckin inside.

I guess I'm feeding them all.

I laugh to myself as I hold the door for Breckin and he races inside.

"Why don't you go get washed up and changed into your stuff. We'll eat and then make sure you're ready to go to the game."

Breckin nods and races toward his bathroom to wash up. Eric walks straight to the kitchen and Brock falls back a little.

"Is there anything I can help with?"

"He had a big breakfast with Eric this morning, or so I assume, it's kind of their thing," I shrug. "So, lunch is usually something simple like peanut butter and banana sandwiches with yogurt. I have leftover Cajun Alfredo that I'm going to eat though."

"Sign me up for that," he laughs.

As we walk into the kitchen and start moving around to get Breckin and ourselves something to eat Brock falls in naturally. The four of us together in the kitchen feels right.