🍎 Fifteen

Sitting at the table with Layla and trying to ignore her was like asking Dawson to ignore the end of the world.


He wasn't sure how he managed to get through the evening, nor was he surprised that sleep fought against him that night. He laid awake, knowing she was just down the hall, that he could muster up the courage to knock on her door and...


And do what, exactly? Lie and say she was wrong about her assumptions, or admit that she was right? Confess that their mirrored problems weren't the only reason he was badgering her? Tell her that he was so damn attracted to her and he had some senseless hope that if he could convince her to leave Colin, maybe something might happen between them?


What was the point? Layla had made it clear that she had a life she was eager to go back to, even if it was for reasons Dawson couldn't understand. Stability, he guessed. Stability and the ironic safety of unhappiness. If you never let yourself have any, you can't be upset when it gets taken away.


Okay, so he could understand it, but he wished she didn't. He wanted more for her, and that was what he didn't get.


Thanks to all his tossing and turning, he overslept the next morning. In his mad dash to shower, get dressed, and grab something to eat, his thoughts finally were too occupied to think about the redhead.Β 


But the reprieve didn't last long. Through picking apples and checking up on the trees that were just about ready to bloom for the autumn, he had to fight with his mind to stay focused. It was a battle he lost pretty damn fast.


The simple fact was, Layla'd been practically begging him to leave her alone since the first day she got to the orchard. I should smarten up and listen to her, he told himself. Let her know that what she said burned him, that she figured it out, and leave it be. She'd go back to New York and he'd forget about all these feelings. He'd look back and laugh at himself, ask what was so special about her that had him upside down for two weeks.


But when work was done and he was heading back up to the house to wash up for supper, he saw her standing by the open trunk of her car in the golden hour and knew that was a lie. Her fiery hair was wilder than usual, and the dress she had on was like a satin glove, a muted green that he knew would make her eyes look like crystals even before he got close enough to see it for himself.


And he did, he did get close enough, even as he told himself to turn the other way and head up to the porch, inside where he would be far enough away from her to breathe. His feet carried him right to her, and as she shut the trunk, her eyes met his.


She said nothing, eyebrows raising in what was more of a challenge than a greeting. The breeze carried over her scent, a deep, musky perfume that made him want to bury his face against her neck.


"Okay," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "You were right."


"Is that all you came to tell me?" Her arms crossed, weight shifting to one side in a way that made her hip jut out, drawing his attention back to her body. This was a bad time to have this conversation, with her dressed like this. As if he could focus on anything other than how badly he wanted to reach out and touch her and feel her skin against his. "Based on how you acted, I was able to figure that out for myself, believe it or not."


He couldn't help the corners of his mouth from lifting. "You were right, and... I'm sorry."


She raised one shoulder, skin glistening in the light of the sunset. "It's okay." Her smile was soft as she came around to the rear door, leaning against the car to look out at the orchard.


He came beside her, resting against the vehicle and gazing out over his land. But his mind was too occupied to appreciate the swaying blossoms or the rolling hills beyond them. "You're going out?"


"Mm-hmm. Me and Kenzie are meeting Annie for dinner in tow, and then we're going back to her apartment to help her figure out how to decorate it. Kenzie had me load the trunk with a box of housewarming hand-me-downs. Old picture frames and stuff."


Their arms brushed as Layla reached up to gather her hair, tucking it to one side, away from the wind. He wanted to look over, wanted to search her face for any sign that it was as much of a shock to her system as it was to his, but he kept his eyes trained on the trees.


"I have to ask," she spoke again, turning to face him, "and I think I'm entitled to, after all the interrogation you put me through. What..." She let the sentence falter, looked away for a second as she considered her words. "I mean, I look at your family, your parents, and I don't get any idea as to how you could end up thinking the way you do."


"The way we do," he corrected, angling his body towards her, too. "And yeah, I'd say you're pretty entitled to ask. Ex-girlfriend."


She looked up at him, eyes widening when she realized he was done speaking. "That's it? That's all the details I get? Jeez, you hound me for five days straight and all I get isβ€”"


He stopped her with a laugh, holding up a hand. "Alright, alright. You remember how I said I don't like New York City?"


She nodded, brows furrowing at the seemingly random topic.


"Well... After high school, I went to college for a bit in Tennessee. Thought maybe I should see a little of what the rest of the world had to offer. I met a girl." He shook his head, letting out a quiet laugh as all the feelings came flooding back. "I fell in love with a girl. She fell in love with me, or did a damn good job at pretending. But her dreams changed, and she was heading off to NYU just a few months after we met. So we did the long distance thingβ€”Late night phone calls, sending each other stupid pictures throughout the day, random gifts in the mail."


He swallowed, turning back to face the grounds. He watched a rabbit dash through the open spaces, and tried to distance himself from the memories. It was a long time since he talked about this. The sting had lessened through the years, but it was still there. "I thought we were gonna make it. I was young, and stupid, but I really, really thought so."


Layla's voice was nearly a whisper. "What happened?"


"I came to visit her as a surprise. Found her in bed with some other guy. So I threw the roses I brought at them, turned around, and left. She tried to call me, kept texting me for weeks, but I was done. I fell out of love the second I opened that door, you know?"


"Yeah." Her eyes were downcast when he finally looked over again. "I can imagine."


"I guess I realized there's lots of people in the world who don't care if they hurt you. And there's no way to tell the good from the bad, so... better not to get attached to anyone."


"I'm sorry."


He pursed his lips, shrugging. "People go through a hell of a lot worse. I think I just took it hard because... well, it's like you said. Look at my parents. I always thought I'd just fall into a relationship like that one day and that would be it. Cheating, arguing, divorce, all that... it just seemed like someone else's problem until I found out it could be mine, too, if I wasn't careful."


Layla looked back out at the orchard, then down at the high heel that was absentmindedly toeing the gravel. "For me it was my first boyfriend."


His eyebrows raisedβ€”she was opening up without him having to ask.


"I was seventeen, just about ready to graduate, and I'd gone through the past five years or so dealing with people who cared about me for nothing more than who my parents were and what events I might invite them to if we were friends. But he showed up in the second semester, new to school, and sat right next to me in class on his first day."


Dawson watched her smile, heard the quiet sigh that escaped her. He knew she was going through it too, feeling everything she had back then.


"He was from Arkansas. And I thought... I mean, I guess I was young and stupid, too." She laughed. "I thought it meant he wouldn't have any interest in all the social bullshit the rest of the kids did. I thought he was my first real friend. So of course I fell in love with him."


Her first friend, at seventeen? She'd really been alone for that long? He studied her, noting the way those luminous eyes had softened with reminisce. He hadn't realized her upbringing meant anything more than a secure future and celebrity acquaintances, and the revelation made his heart ache. If Colin wasn't a real companion to her, then... before she'd come to the orchard, had she ever had one?


"My parents hated him. He wasn't anybody's kid to them, you know? He was a nobody. I told them that I loved him, that I wanted to go off to college with him when we graduated, and they said no. So I told him..." She pressed her lips together, pausing to steady herself as she faced him. "I told him I didn't care what they wanted. I was going to leave it all for him. I didn't care about the inheritance, or if my parents never spoke to me again. It didn't mean anything, it wasn't important to me anymore."


"Your parents stopped it somehow?" he guessed.


Her lips moved into a sad smile. "More like he did. He told me I was crazy. That I was destroying our future, and he'd never talk to me again if I did that to him."


He felt his eyes widen, brows lowering as one simple thought came to mind: Idiot. The guy was an asshole and an idiot.


The setting sun caught the gloss in Layla's eyes as she let out a breath. "I realized in a second that I'd been believing a lie for months. He only wanted from me what everyone else did. So I told myself I wouldn't ever be anybody else's fool. If all I was to anyone was Foster Fitness, then I'd play the part. But I'd do it for myself. Nobody would ever, ever get to use me."


"So the merger really is for you." It was more of a realization than a question. Even if her parents instigated it, she really was going through with it for herself.


"It is." She shrugged. "It'll help with business. And as long as I don't want to find myself hurt again... that's where my focus lies."


He let out a long sigh, letting all of his weight rest against the car as they faced the trees together. There was a serenity that came with confession, a sense of weightlessness. He wondered if Layla felt it too, wondered if she would acknowledge the companionship that sprouted from sharing secrets. Especially ones so similar, ones that had them making the same mistakes.


"You know, it's too bad," he finally said, sliding his hands into his pockets. "If things were differentβ€”if you weren't with Colin, I meanβ€”I would've been all over you since day one."


In the corner of his eye he could see her turn to him, a grin growing on her face, taking away the sadness. "What, you would've been willing to have a two week fling instead of one night?"


He turned to her, wearing a smile of his own that wasn't nearly as wide or playful. And as he let his gaze trace over her freckles and those full, painted lips, he let himself tell the truth once more. "That's not exactly what I meant."


She blinked, grin falling, eyes studying his face as if searching for any trace of a lie. He knew Layla understood the admission; what he wanted with her was far from a fling. But did she know that he wanted it with such an intensity that it scared him? Could she tell it was eating him up inside, knowing she'd be gone in a week?


His sisters voice broke the silence as she stumbled outside, heels clunking on the porch. "I'm ready!"


Layla finally looked away, taking in a sharp breath as if coming out of a trance. She planted on a smile as she faced Kenzie, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.


"Sorry it took me so long! I changed my dress twice, and then my shoes three more times." Kenzie's eyes narrowed as she approached, leering at Dawson. "I hope you haven't been bothering her this whole time."


"No," Layla was quick to answer, shaking her head. "We were talking."


Still, Kenzie shot him a discreet warning-look. "Well, we're running late, so we gotta go. I'll feel bad if Annie has to wait."


"Be safe," he said to both of them as Layla headed around for the driver's side. "And don't be too loud when you get home. You know how Jack can be."


"Try to be civil with him at dinner," Kenzie said as he opened the passenger's door for her. "For Marshall, okay?"


The less people there were around when he and Jack were in the same room, the more likely they were to get into an argument. Dawson rolled his eyes, but nodded. "For Marshall."


He shut the door once she was inside, and gave a wave as they pulled away. Layla knew the truth now. The question was if she was going to do anything about it.Β 




SORRY I forgot to update on saturday again omg 😩😩😩 I kept reminding myself yesterday and yet I STILL FORGOT SOMEHOW


But EEEEK Dawson made a pretty big confession, huh? 😳
I hope you liked getting some insight into their backgrounds this chapter! πŸ’›And I think I forgot to say it, but thank you so much for 2k reads!!

Comment