Page 80 of The Playboy's Playbook

I sigh and more tears fall, so I stand from my spot on my bed and move around the room.

“I told her that I love her and then I walked out her front door and left her standing on her porch, crying. I hate seeing her cry, but I don’t want to be the reason she isn’t happy. Last year, I got lucky. It was pure dumb luck that she gave me a chance after three weeks of me trying to talk to her. I don’t think I’m that lucky a second time around. A playbook isn’t going to help me with this.”

Luke sighs and shakes his head before walking over to me. “Remember when you first moved in with me and said that you didn’t think there was anybody capable of loving you because you were a broken man? Well, newsflash. Laila loved you anyway. She still loves you.”

We’re both silent, the air in the room going still as we look out of my bedroom window.

“You should take tomorrow off. You’ve worked hard the last few months and took care of my two wild children. When was the last time you took the day off?” Luke asks.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think I’ve ever taken a day off.” The only time I remember missing work was the day Laila broke up with me. I left work early and didn’t go back. Other than that, I’ve made sure I was at work. I’m sure I have enough time to take a couple of months off.

“Well, you should take the day off tomorrow,” Luke suggests.

“I’ll think about it,” I say.

Luke and I both know that I’ll be at work tomorrow. I need something to distract me and the best thing to distract me is to be at work.

“Whatever happens, Matty, just know that you did the best that you could and you got to experience one helluva love story. Even if it was only for two months,” Luke pats me on the shoulder before walking out of my room.

I lay back onto my bed and stare blankly at the ceiling, the outline of the fan holding my attention. A few more tears fall and at some point during the night, sleep finds me.

Chapter Forty

LAILA

“Ilove you Laila, no matter what.”

The words repeat over and over in my mind all night long. I don’t want the ball to be in my hands. I don’t want to be the one making decisions about the next play. I don’t want to go out and try and find love with someone else.

I just want Matt Foster.

The next morning while I’m sitting in my living room and Nola is lying next to me chewing on one of her toys, my phone rings. It’s my mom calling. She never calls early in the morning unless it’s an emergency.

“Hey, mom,” I answer.

“I know you told me you had some work to do remotely and emails to send, so I won’t keep you for long! But I just got the most exciting phone call!” she exclaims, causing me to sit up straighter on my couch.

“I took the day off. What happened?” I ask.

“You know that building downtown…wait, did you just say you took today off? Why? What’s wrong? Are you sick? Is Nola okay?”

I shake my head and chuckle. “Yeah, we’re both fine. Nola’s sitting right next to me with her banana toy you bought her from Vegas. I think it might’ve replaced the panda bear. What about the building downtown?”

“Nope,” she says. “What’s wrong, Laila?”

I sigh and close my eyes. “It’s this thing with Matt. He came over for dinner last night and he poured his heart and soul out to me. He wanted an answer about whether or not we’d get back together. I couldn’t give him a direct answer. And I think by not giving him a direct answer, I hurt his feelings.”

“Why couldn’t you give him a direct answer, Apple Pie? It seems like a no-brainer. I thought you were in love with him?”

I take a deep breath and finally let the tears flow. “I am in love with him, mom. But it always harbors in my mind that he kept something so major away from me. What if he hurts me for a third time?”

My mom lets me cry before speaking. “I’m sure that he’s learned his lesson by now. But why put yourself through all of the stress and anguish when you know that you are in love with him? It’s okay to fall because he will be right there to pick you up. Hell, he might even fall with you.”

I wipe my tears and Nola props up on my leg, sniffing my face and giving me tiny kisses to console me. “I think I’m too late, mom.”

“No. You’re not too late. Go get him, Laila.”

As soon as the line goes dead, I sit on the edge of the couch and gather myself, taking slow deep breaths.

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