Page 95 of Never Really Over

She gives Poppy a tight hug then kisses all over her face. “Oh my gosh, I love her so much!”

Poppy erupts into a fit of giggles. It’s strange to let my heart be this happy, especially with Layla. I spent years not only thinking I wouldn’t find love again, but also that what Layla and I had when we were teenagers was gone forever. The past is always going to be there, but after we burned it up, it doesn’t feel like it’s taking over and threatening to ruin whatever is between us.

Over the week since we burned those papers, we’ve focused on the future. We’ve talked over her moving to Chicago, and I told her the only thing she had to apologize for was lying to me when she left. Telling me she didn’t love me hurt and I let the anger fuel me for a lot of years. Some of those years turned ugly because of self-pity, and I blamed Layla.

So, yeah, we had things to apologize for and we did that. Now it’s our time. And I have every intention of not letting her get away again.

I reach out and grab her hand to stop her from going inside and pull her to me, Poppy still on her hip. “I don’t like missing you,” I say with a gruff voice, burying my face in her neck and inhaling deeply. Damn, she smells good. Better than good. Enticing and so tempting.

“I don’t like missing you, either,” she replies, giving me a kiss.

“Whose idea was this whole taking things slow anyway?” I tease.

She chuckles. “Someone who needs his head examined, apparently.”

“No kidding.”

The door flies open and a sixties-something man steps out. I know this is Stan, because that’s why I’m here, but never would have guessed it. He’s dressed in a pair of Nike basketball shorts, an old t-shirt, and flip-flops.

“This the guy?” he asks.

“Nope. This is my side piece,” Layla replies flippantly.

“Ahh. Good. Good. I won’t tell the other one when I finally meet him, then.”

“Make sure you don’t. I’ve been very careful not to let the two cross paths. Obviously, he knows,” she says, pointing to me with a tip of her head, “he’s cool with it.”

“Hilarious,” I say with a straight face.

“We are, aren’t we?” Stan says, smiling. “Hi there. I’m Stan.” He holds out his hand for me to shake.

“This your other boss?” I ask Layla.

“I like him,” Stan says, laughing. “We’ll get along just fine. Sorry about my attire. Working from home has brought out my casual side and I refuse to wear real pants anymore.”

“Just be glad he’s actuallywearingshorts. He’s gotten a littletoocomfortable.”

Stan’s expression says that she’s being completely serious and that he’s not apologetic about it at all.

I bark out a laugh.

“Not that I don’t care about you, but I really want to meet this cutie.”

Poppy’s been watching our introductions with wide eyes and her head on Layla’s shoulder and her thumb in her mouth.

“This is Poppy. Poppy, can you say hi?”

I pluck her thumb out of her mouth and she says a quiet, “Hi,” then pops her thumb right back in her mouth.

“Oh, she’s precious. I know Maureen’s dying to see you two but I saw you pull up and got excited so I knocked her down in the kitchen.”

“I don’t blame you,” Layla says. “They’re both pretty exciting to see.”

I grin like a total cheeseball.

Stan shakes his head. “Ahh. Young love. Come inside. We’ll see if Maureen’s off the floor yet.”

Layla looks at me to see my reaction. “So, that’s Stan.”

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