Page 10 of Blind Date with a #FORMERPLAYER
I flinch, but shake my head, refusing to believe it. “Aunt Miranda, come on. Why are you being so hard on me? You weren’t there.”
“You’re right.” She sits a little taller as if about to share something that will get me to change my mind. “But I don’t have to be there to know that if all Layla Romano wanted was help with a job, she would ask her brother.”
“Her brother?” I arch my eyebrow, a sick feeling suddenly twisting my gut while my mind races.
She nods. “Her brother. Gabe Romano.”
My back goes rigid. “From the Mavericks?”
“That’s him,” Uncle Steve chimes in, pointing to me for emphasis, both of them watching meclose.
“Shit,” I mutter, replaying the entire conversation in my head. Have I completely lost faith in everyone, and always just assume the worst?
“Now he’s got it.” My uncle grins, satisfied.
“I didn’t know,” I mumble, still shocked. I deserved a lot worse than a glass of water thrown in my face.
“Because you didn’t give her a chance. Layla deserves an apology,” Aunt Miranda insists, her voice firm.
“From the sound of it, she deserves a helluva lot more than that,” Uncle Steve proclaims, chuckling. “Good luck with that.”
Groaning, I push off the couch, irritated at myself. They’re right. I’m an asshole. I should’ve at least been more confident in what my aunt and uncle shared about her. They don’t have any reason to lie to me.
Instead, I went and judged her based on words I twisted to fit my fucked up perception of the people in our world. I run my hand through my hair and drop it to my side. My own disappointment in myself is overwhelming even without the looks they’re both giving me.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize, glancing back and forth between the two of them.
“You are?” Aunt Miranda challenges.
“So, what are you going to do about it?” Uncle Steve questions, crossing his arms over his chest.
Without answering, I slip on my shoes, my thoughts already drifting back to Layla. After one look at her, it was obvious she was beautiful, but I refuse to be around another woman who wants something from me. Knowing she’s the opposite of that makes her even more gorgeous in my eyes and she was already stunning.
Remembering her bright, wide, doe eyes looking back at me makes my heart race. The innocence shining in them when I threw accusations at her was genuine, but I still glared down at her with contempt.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
It’s obvious she doesn’t care who I am, and she won’t put up with bullshit either. Layla’s the exact kind of woman I didn’t think existed anymore, but I would give anything to get to know better.
Yet, I just fucked it up. Damn, I really am an asshole.
Hopefully, she’ll give me a chance to apologize and maybe make it up to her in other fun ways. I swipe my wallet and keys off the coffee table and stride for the door, a plan already forming in my head.
Glancing back, I ask, “So, are you going to tell me where I can find her so I can beg her for forgiveness?”
Their smiles and looks of satisfaction only confirm I’m the one who fucked up and I need to find a way to fix it. “Make sure you do right by her,” Aunt Miranda insists.
Contrite, I nod my head in acceptance. Hopefully she’s as nice as everyone claims when she sees my candid regret.
Chapter 5
Layla
Dressed in a pale yellow short and tank top pajama set decorated with small white daisies and a tiny lace bow at the middle of the scoop neckline, I smile at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Maybe I’m the only one who sees me wearing them, but these pajamas leave me feeling sexy and confident. After tonight, I need that feeling. Plus, they’re incredibly comfortable.
Sighing, I return to the couch and grab my book, reaching for a fluffy white blanket just as the doorbell rings. Tossing the fabric to the side, I jump up, striding for the door. “Chloe, I told you not to come,” I call.
Without looking, I yank the door open and my jaw drops. A sheepish Levi stands before me, his arms full of bags. “Not Chloe.”
