2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Josh

"You going to take your shot or just stand there and ogle those girls over there?" I shout at Liam as he not-so-subtly glances at some blonde in the corner of the bar.

"Fuck off, I was just trying to line up my shot," he lies as he moves his pool stick back while he leans over the table.

Eric, his brother, leans into me at our round, high-top table in the corner. "He's a shit liar, isn't he?"

"I heard that," Liam shouts after he takes his shot, which hits his solid ball but bounces off the corner pocket. "Dammit!"

"If Asher were here, we'd be kicking both your asses in this game," Liam growls before he takes a swig of his beer.

Eric and I both roll our eyes. "Yeah, well, looks like your brother has just proven that he's the real talent in this game," I reply.

Liam, Asher, and Eric are all brothers. I went to college with Asher years ago. They also have a little sister named Layla, but I try not to think about her. Actually, I try to avoid her at all costs. We have a history, and it's complicated .

"Can you believe that he bailed on us again tonight?" Liam says begrudgingly.

"He's got a lot going on," Eric points out, being the older, wiser brother and all. "With just moving into the new house with a three-year-old and now living with Charlotte."

"It's your shot," Eric nudges me. "Let's end this game between you two now so Liam can go work his magic on his little crush over there."

I chuckle as I grab my stick and move along the table, trying to find the perfect angle to sink the last ball. I'm down to just needing to sink the eight ball to win.

"Left corner pocket," I point with my stick, then line up behind the ball. The eight ball sinks into the intended pocket, and I hear Liam curse under his breath.

I stand up tall and smile widely at him. "Nice game, man. Better luck next time."

"Whatever, I'm outta here," he growls, then makes a beeline straight for the blonde. She smiles effortlessly up at him.

Yeah, he'll be going home with her tonight. If Layla were here, I'm sure she'd have some snarky comment about how she's surprised I'm not the one taking a woman home. She always seems to imply that I'm some massive man whore.

Now, I'm not saying that I'm a prude, but she acts like I'm out here taking women home left and right. Truth be told, it's been a while for me. I just haven't been feeling it lately. I don't know what it is that's making me feel this way.

"Well, I think I'm gonna head out," Eric says while clapping me on the shoulder. "I've got a big meeting tomorrow with an investor."

"Nice. Good luck. I hope it goes well."

He blows out a breath. "We'll see. Later."

I look around the bar, wondering if tonight should be the night I get back on the horse and try to pick up a girl. Liam is laughing it up with the blonde, who has a beautiful brunette sitting next to her. But once again, I'm in no mood to take someone home.

I nod at Liam to let him know I'm heading out. He gives me a confused look, probably expecting me to hit on the hot friend, but I just shrug my shoulders and walk out the door.

On my drive home, I start to think about what's been bugging me lately. Not that I want to admit it, but I think I know what it is, or who it is.

Layla.

Ever since my best friend, Asher, has been dating her best friend, Charlotte, we've seen a lot more of each other. It was easier to ignore our past when we didn't see each other all that much. But now, every weekend, I'm coming face to face with her. She ignores me, rolls her eyes at me, says sarcastic shit to me, and I should just ignore it like I used to. I just don't understand after ten years, why these feelings are resurfacing like this.

Just as I walk into my house, my phone lights up with an incoming call from Asher. What could he be calling for this late at night?

"Everything okay?" I ask as soon as I answer.

"Yeah. Why?" he replies, sounding confused .

"I don't know. You never call me at this hour on a weeknight."

I throw my keys on the entryway table.

"Well, I mean, nothing's wrong, but I do have a favor to ask."

"Oh, okay. What do you need?" I would do anything for him. He's like my brother.

I walk down the hall to my bedroom and plop down on my bed as I wait for him to reply.

He sighs into the phone, and I hear a muffled Charlotte in the background. I hear her say, "Just ask him."

"Dude, what's going on? What do you need to ask me?"

"It's not really a small favor," he starts. "So, you know how Charlotte and Layla are supposed to go to Italy tomorrow?"

"Yessss," I draw out, wondering where he's going with this.

Of course, I know that. It's all they talk about when everyone is together. Layla won't shut up about the Italian men she's going to flirt with, which is annoying as fuck.

"So," he stalls again, "Charlotte isn't feeling well."

"Oh, shit. And they're leaving tomorrow?" I ask, wondering if she could maybe just push through and sleep on the plane.

"Yeah. She's been getting sick a lot."

That doesn't sound good. Hopefully, it isn't the flu.

"Damn. Do you think it's just a bug? Maybe she'll feel better in the morning. "

"That's the thing. She's actually pregnant. It's not something we've shared with people yet. We were waiting until she's further along."

"She's pregnant? Shit. Congratulations! I'm really happy for you guys."

I am. Asher has been through hell and back, and it has been such a relief to see him happy again.

"Thanks, man. We can't wait to share the news with everyone. But that's not why I called. She figured she could still go on the trip and just not drink. Her only symptom was being really fatigued. We didn't expect nausea to start so late, but she can't keep anything down and is sick around the clock."

"Damn. That's not good." I can't imagine having to go through that. I'm a wuss when it comes to getting sick.

"No. It sucks. I feel awful watching her and not being able to do anything about it."

"I can imagine."

"So, that brings me to my favor," he says matter-of-factly. "I was wondering…if maybe you could go with Layla."

My entire body freezes and my breath catches in my lungs. I can't really be hearing him correctly because I think he just asked me to go to Italy with his sister for an entire week—just the two of us.

I don't even know how to process his words.

"I'm sorry. What did you just say?" I ask in a suffocated whisper.

"Look, I know you two have had your differences," he starts, and I laugh bitterly, knowing he doesn't know the half of it, "but she really needs this break. She's gonna be devastated if it gets canceled."

I try to disguise my annoyance. I don't like being put in this situation when he knows Layla and I together is bad news. We can't get along for more than a second before one of us offers a snarky comment.

Why in the hell does he think that us spending a week alone together would bode well? Not to mention the weird feelings I'm having around her again.

"Why me? Why can't you ask Avery or someone else like your mom?"

He sighs, the worry evident in his voice. "Avery can't get off work for the week on this short of a notice, and my mom isn't fond of that kind of travel. Plus, a week of just my mother is not a relaxing trip for Layla."

Shit, he's right. Her mom would drive her crazy. Still, I don't see how I'm any better.

"Look, I appreciate that you trust me enough to ask, but I don't think it's a good idea. Have you even cleared it with Layla? There's no way she would agree to this."

He clears his throat. "We haven't even told Layla that Charlotte can't make it. We're in panic mode. Charlotte wants to have a solution before she breaks the news to Layla."

"Trust me, man. Layla would never get on that plane with me. I can promise you that."

Charlotte whispers something that I can't quite make out .

"Charlotte says she'll take care of Layla. She promises she'll be on board, even if she's hesitant at first. That's how much this trip means to Layla. Please, man."

"What about work?" I ask, knowing what he'll say next.

I work for Asher at his construction company. He likes to say we're partners in the business, but it's still his company. He makes the final decisions, even if he trusts most of my decisions.

"It's covered. I've got you. Ian can take over for the week."

There it is. Asher has everything figured out. I appreciate what he's doing for his sister, but he doesn't realize what our history is. He just thinks we annoy each other, that our personalities clash at times. No one knows our history.

I'm just about to tell him it's a firm no when he throws a wrench in everything.

"If you don't go, I'm going to have to resort to asking David. I know he's our buddy, but I just think Layla would be more comfortable with you there. I don't know why, but I do. Charlotte does, too."

David. Alone with Layla in Italy for an entire week.

Fuck. That.

"David is not going. Absolutely not," I growl into the phone a bit too forcefully.

I think I hear Charlotte chuckle in the background.

"Well, if you don't go then…"

"I'll go," I cut him off, sounding a bit too intense .

"Really?" he asks hopefully. "You'll do it?"

This is so fucking stupid. I know I shouldn't agree to this, but the idea of Layla alone with David is too much for me to bear. How could I let her be alone with one of my best friends in one of the most romantic countries in the world? Over my dead body.

"Yeah, whatever. I'll do it."

"He'll do it," I hear Asher whisper to Charlotte.

"Oh my god! Thank you so much, Josh!" Charlotte shouts in the background.

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just give me the details."

As they spout off a bunch of details I won't remember until they write them down or text them to me, a warning voice whispers in my head, telling me this is a bad idea.

I should heed the warning. I swallow hard as I try to hide the anger building in me for being put in this situation.

But there's also a faint bit of excitement in the pit of my stomach. As much as I want to deny it, a week alone annoying the hell out of Layla sounds kind of fun.

It isn't until we get off the phone and I'm lying in my bed that I start to regret my decision. Something is telling me this is going to blow up in my face, but for some reason, I'm not picking up the phone to back out of it.