🍎 Twenty One

Layla did come to dinner that evening, but she was quiet, and the smiles she gave at Kenzie and Marshall's wedding-talk seemed forced to Dawson. When Jack asked about her plans for going back home, Dawson wanted to tackle him off his chair.Β 

The topic of her leaving was the last thing he wanted to talk, hear, or think about, and yet he had to face it. If he didn't try something, it was going to happen, whether he liked it or not. The scary part was that even if he did try, she still might pack up and head back to the city anyways.Β 

Layla skirted around an answer, saying she'd miss the orchard, but that she'd probably be swamped with work to keep her occupied when she got back to the city. His sister just had to add, "And wedding plans," eliciting another feigned smile and mumble of agreement from Layla.

He knew he had to talk to her, even though he wasn't sure exactly what he'd say. But if she was really going to do this, go back home and marry that bastard, she deserved to make a decision with all the information in front of her--including how Dawson felt.

She knew in a sense thanks to his prior admission and the almost-kiss, but she didn't know the extent of his feelings. Chances were, even with what he said before, there was a part of her that still didn't take him seriously. And why should she, after so little time?

But feelings, Dawson was beginning to learn , didn't care about time at all. There was passion and envy in him like he'd never felt before, and that potent, sickening fear that it'd all amount to nothing. That she would leave, and the feelings wouldn't follow her. He'd have to live with them and her memory forever.

He helped bring the dishes into the kitchen, where Marshall had already volunteered for the clean-up job. But when Dawson went back to the dining room, Layla was already gone.

"Layla went to bed?" he asked his sister, whose eyebrows raised at the question.

"No, she went for a walk." She gestured at the open terrace doors. Outside, the backyard solar lights had come on, glowing amongst Jack's flowery landscaping. "Said she was cooped up all day and wanted some fresh air." Her voice was stern when she questioned, "Why?"

Dawson grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and tugged it on. "Because I need to talk to her, is why."

She gave him a look that clearly said she didn't approve, but kept to her word and stayed out of it, saying nothing more.

He ducked outside before she could change her mind and spotted Layla a ways down the stone path, standing with her face tilted towards the night sky. It reminded him of how he'd first seen her, hair dancing in the breeze, eyes closed towards the sun. But this time, her eyes were open, gaze traversing the constellations above.

He approached, and she looked over at the sound of his footsteps. "It's pretty, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she answered, and as he got nearer he saw the glimmer of moonlight in the tears on her cheeks.

"Hey," his voice was softer than he knew it could be as he stepped forward, reaching out with a gentle hand to wipe them away. But she turned, shaking her head and raising her sleeve to do it herself.

"I thought I was alone. I'm just going to miss it, is all."

"I heard what happened," he admitted, letting her know the lieβ€”or half-truth, he suspectedβ€”was pointless. "About your program."

She looked back at him with wide eyes, which were free of tears, now. "Youβ€”how?"

"Annie. But don't be mad at herβ€”she's concerned about you and let it slip, that's all."

Layla frowned, but nodded. "She should be the one mad at me. I dumped everything on her and then snubbed her when she offered to talk. I even told her about Colinβ€”in the most basic terms, anyway."

"Really?" Dawson thought back to how she'd reacted to his mother's words. "Well, she didn't spill the beans on that one. Although my mom's already figured it out for herself, you know."

"Figured... that I don't love Colin?"

He nodded. "Said something about knowing what a happy bride acts like, and how you're not one of 'em."

Her arms crossed as she let out a heavy breath. "Well, doesn't that just sum it up. She saw in nine days what my parents couldn't see in a year."

"Can I be frank, Layla?"

She gave him a look, one that seemed almost too humorous for the serious conversation. "When haven't you been?"

He smiled, relieved to see she was at least up to joking. "Okay. Fair point. So then I hope it won't bother you if I continue to speak my mind."

"I guess I won't know until you do."

"To hell with Foster Fitness. Start your own business. Leave Colin."

"You've said as much before."

"But I didn't say this. Stay here, at least until after the wedding. Stay here, and we can figure out what the hell to do about what's between us."

She held his gaze, as if expecting more. "Which is what, Dawson? What exactly is between us?"

"This." He stepped forward and captured her face in his hands this time. When she made no move to back away, he leaned down to capture her mouth against his as his heart rapped in his chest.

What he'd been imagining for the past nine days finally soared into reality. All there was was the feel of her, the taste of her lips and the way her hands came up to grip his jacket. His hands moved, one to her neck, the other to get lost in that flame-colored hair as her lips parted, revealing the passion she'd been able to hide in her eyes. Now, as she tugged him closer, he knew she felt it too.

The night was quiet around them, and the sound of her sigh broke through the crickets and the rustling leaves to plunge him deeper into madness. Pleasant waves of desire coursed through him, had him dizzy in ways he didn't know possible. She was softer than the scent of the garden, and the warmth that swamped him was stronger than any summers day he'd ever known.Β 

Then her hands were on his chest, pushing him away. In a daze, he stepped back to give her space, watching as she ran a hand through that wild hair.

"I can't," she said simply, voice hoarse. The words brought him back to earth, again and again as she continued, "No, I can't do this, and... and I can't stay. I can't leave the business, the merger." Colin was the unspoken word there, and he didn't miss it. In fact, it stung pretty damn bad.

The wound festered quickly, spewing sour frustration against the thrill of the kiss. His hands rested on his hips, heart still pounding, lips still numb. "I... Is this not for you, how it is for me? Do you not feel what I feel? Or is it just that everything is about business to you?"

"To me?" The laugh that came out of her was blunt and void of any amusement. In a second she'd gone from looking guilty to staring at him as if he were crazy. "To me!" she repeated, laced with disbelief.

"Yes, Layla, to you. From where I'm standing, it seems like that's all you ever let yourself focus on, so much that you don't even let yourself feel when something good, something right, comes along." And damn it, this was right. He was more sure of that now than he'd ever been of anything.

"God, you'd think you didn't hear a single thing I ever said to you," she snapped. Her arms wrapped around herself, then unraveled to point at her chest. "All I've ever been to anybody is a business, Dawson. All I've ever been is a connection, or a girl with money, or someone to mold into a CEO."

Of course he'd been listening, of course he remembered. But couldn't she see it was different with him?

"The last time I tried to just be Layla, I found out pretty quick that to other people, she doesn't exist. I am Foster Fitness, my whole life is Foster Fitness. That's all it's ever been, and pretending it could ever be different is nothing more than a fast way to get hurt."

"I'm telling you that you don't have to pretend, Layla. It is different here, I'm different." The idea that she didn't think so, that she couldn't tell, was insulting enough to scald.Β  "You think I'm just another asshole who's after your fame and fortune? I'm not. And my family isn't, either. Kenzie couldn't give a damn if you were teaching pilates to Tom Cruise or the eighty year old lady who lives down the road. She's your friend, for real, whether you like it and realize it or not."

Her gaze dropped to the ground, but he wasn't done.

"And as for me... Layla Foster does exist. Not as an heiress or a future CEO, or anything to do with that god forsaken company you just happen to work for. When I think of you I think of you." She looked up at him and he kept going, ready to tell her the truth, let her know exactly what she was dealing with. "I think of a woman with a fire in her heart. I think of the way you looked in that dress, and how it drives me crazy just to stand next to you. I want you, Layla. Not because of everything you come from, but in spite of it. Whenever you let that sink in, and figure out what it means to you, you know where to find me. But if all you'll ever see me as is another one of those sharks, then don't bother."

With a turn, he headed back up the path for the house as offense and sympathy warred inside of him. She knew the truth now. All he could do was wait to see what she decided to do with it.


A KISS! 😳
lol I hope it was a good one, my kiss-writing skills have yet to be honed πŸ˜†

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