Chapter 19: Layla POV
For some inexplicable reason, I’m nervous.
I’ve changed my outfit three times, had my hair in four different styles and now I’m a sweaty mess, meaning my shower from earlier is a moot point.
I duck into the shower for a quick rinse down and then throw on my favorite pair of skinny jeans that make my ass look phenomenal (if a do say so myself), a red halter neck vest that supports the girls nicely without me having to wear a bra, and a pair of black ankle boots. My make–up is minimal with some mascara and tinted gloss. I go for a high ponytail to combat the heat and a pair of silver hoops to round the look off.
With one last glimpse in the mirror, I grab my phone, keys, and gloss. Moira’s standing at the front door, reminding me not to drink and drive and to call José to pick me up should I decide to imbibe somewhat. With a hug and a sarcastic “Yes Mom” I’m out the door, Moira’s chuckle following me out.
I plug Cade’s address into my phone’s GPS, and it pings with a route that’s about a 10–minute drive from campus, on the opposite side of Greek Row–intriguing, to say the least. I would have thought that college guys would want to be as close to the parties and sorority girls as humanly possible.
Pulling up to the house, I spot a couple of cars parked in front of the double garage and a few more on the side of the road – seems like it’s not a small party after all. Just great! Normally, I am somewhat of an extrovert, but I don’t like big crowds of people I don’t know.
Sitting in my car, I grip the steering wheel and stare at the house, debating whether to fire off a quick text to Cade claiming a sudden headache or maybe a conveniently timed flat tire. But, in an attempt to step out of my comfort zone for once, I take a deep breath and step out of the car.
The house itself catches me off guard. It’s not the rundown, beer–stained frat house I was expecting, with sagging gutters and a lawn that looks like it’s been through a war. Instead, it’s a charming two–story, white–clapboard home that could’ve been lifted straight out of a postcard. Large, gleaming windows reflect the golden glow of the setting sun, and a porch swing sways gently in the evening breeze, creaking softly as it moves. The whole setup feels more like a family home than a college party hub, and for a moment, 1 double–check my phone to make sure I didn’t pull up to the wrong address.
—
The walkway to the front door is a tidy path of gray stone slabs, each one perfectly aligned, cutting through a lush green lawn that’s clearly been tended with care. No stray beer cans or cigarette butts here – just soft, manicured grass that looks like it gets mowed on a schedule. To the side, a massive oak tree stretches its branches wide, casting a dappled shadow over a wooden two–seater bench tucked beneath it. The scene feels so idyllic that I can almost picture a couple sitting there, their kids running circles around the trunk, shrieking with laughter as they chase each other through the grass.
It’s oddly wholesome for a house hosting a college party.
Walking up to the gray front door, ready to knock, I notice it is slightly ajar. I give it a small push and it
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Chapter 19: Layla POV
swings open into a hallway that opens into a large living space. Big leather couches sit to the left, all clustered around a massive flatscreen and numerous gaming consoles. To the right is the open–plan kitchen; the marble counter is littered with red solo cups and various alcoholic beverages like beer and even hard liquor.
Music pulses through the air, not the thumping bass I was expecting but something more laid–back–old- school rock and roll, maybe The Rolling Stones, coming from a hidden sound system that’s probably wired into the walls. The vibe is lively but not overwhelming, with a handful of guys scattered around the room, some leaning against the counter, others sprawled on the couches, all talking, laughing, and sipping from their cups.
At the back of the room, big French doors open into a backyard with a fire pit, and some stringed–up fairy
lights.
I slowly walk into the room and one of the guys from my English Lit class notices me and saunters over. His friends eye me with interest, but I ignore them. I am here for one person only.
“Hey Layla, what brings you here?” William asks with a red solo cup in hand, smiling at me. He’s one of the nicer guys in my class – friendly, and helpful but not flirty.
“Hey William, Cade invited me. Do you know where I can find him?” I glance around us, but Cade’s floppy blonde head doesn’t stick out immediately.
William scratches the side of his jaw as he thinks for a second, “Uhm, I think I saw him and the guys out back by the fire pit a while ago. Want me to walk you out there?”
I smile at William and nod my assent. “That would be great, thank you. But first, would you mind showing me where the nearest bathroom is?” My nerves at the prospect of seeing Cade is making me jittery and I just need a second to collect my thoughts before I make a complete fool of myself.
William takes me to the nearest bathroom, just off the living room, and waits for me outside the door.
I lean my hands on the countertop in front of the mirror and tip my head back, taking a steady breath for three counts, holding it for five, and then releasing it in three, I repeat these four more times and by then, my heart rate has returned to normal, and I feel more in control.
Splashing some water on my wrists and the back of my neck, I give myself a final glance in the mirror before stepping back into the hallway, William smiles tentatively at me and starts walking back to the living room.
While I was gone, I was greeted by an entirely new scene. A makeshift dance floor had sprung to life in the living room, where the coffee table had been shoved aside to make space. A group of girls from school, some familiar faces and others I vaguely recognized from campus, had joined the party, their laughter and chatter weaving through the pulsing music.
The playlist had shifted from upbeat pop to sultrier, dance–club vibes, the kind that hums through your
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bones and makes your pulse quicken. The dimmed lights cast a warm, hazy glow over the room, amplifying the electric energy. A few people had already paired off, moving to the rhythm in ways that felt both bold and uninhibited–girl on girl, boy on girl, boy on boy–the combinations as fluid as the music itself, the options limitless in this carefree, chaotic moment.
This makes me smile and I can’t help but hope that Cade might drag me onto the dance floor later tonight. I can only imagine what it would feel like swaying against him, his hands on my hips and his mouth lingering on my neck. An anticipatory shiver runs down my spine and I can’t keep the smirk from my face.
“Want to grab something to drink before we head back there?” William’s voice cut through my daydream, his words half–shouted over the thumping bass as he glanced back at me, his dark hair falling slightly into his eyes.
I caught his gaze and mouthed the word please, the music swallowing any chance of a proper conversation. We wove through the crowd toward the kitchen, where the counter was a chaotic spread of half–empty bottles, crumpled solo cups, and bowls of chips that had seen better days. William, ever the gentleman, grabbed a clean red solo cup from a stack and handed it to me with a grin. He cocked his brow in that universal, unspoken question – What’ll it be? – his expression playful but attentive.
I scanned the options, my eyes landing on a sealed bottle of local IPA, its label promising a crisp, hoppy bite. I pointed at it, and William made quick work of popping the cap with a bottle opener he fished from his pocket, pouring the amber liquid into my cup with a practiced hand.
“Thanks,” I said, my voice barely audible as I raised the cup in a mock toast. He nodded, grabbing a beer for himself, and we turned toward the open French doors that led to the backyard. The doors had been thrown wide, inviting a cool night breeze to mingle with the warm air inside. Stepping onto the back porch, we were greeted by the familiar chaos of a college party in full swing. A beer pong table stood proudly in one corner, surrounded by a rowdy group cheering and jeering as cups were toppled. A dartboard hung on the wall, its surface pockmarked from countless games, and a foosball table nearby
rattled with the fervor of a heated match.
Typical college guy party favorites.
We paused to watch a pair of guys dominate a game of darts, their throws precise and confident. The losing team groaned dramatically as the final dart hit its mark, sealing their defeat. The victors let out triumphant whoops, pointing at a tray of shots on a nearby table. The losers, good sports despite their grumbling, each downed a shot of what looked like cheap tequila, wincing as the liquid burned its way down.
I shook my head at their antics, a small smile tugging at my lips. There was something endearing about the predictability of it all.
William cups my elbow to get my attention and leans over to talk directly in my ear, “There, off to the right, next to the fire pit, is Cade and his boys.”
My eyes scan the backyard in the general direction that William is indicating. My stomach drops.
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Chapter 19: Layla POV
I lock onto a pair of emerald–green eyes first, tight with unbridled hatred. Next, a pair of chocolate brown eyes, filled with curiosity, catches my attention. A second later, light forest–green eyes zero in on mine, and my heart skips a beat when the one winks at me. And last, but certainly not least, my eyes swing to those of the guy I’m here to see – Cade’s light blue pools of excitement.
They are all standing shoulder to shoulder, huddled together like they are their only little gang, and my
mind stutters to a halt.
This can’t be happening! The four guys that have taken over my thoughts and dreams in the last couple of weeks, cannot be friends.
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