4
Layla
I wake up my first morning in the cabin feeling refreshed. I barely remember falling asleep last night; the long drive had done me in. Today feels wide open, and I’m excited to explore.
As I sit here on this plush, grey couch enjoying the rich espresso, I take in my surroundings. I can’t quite place it, but something about the cabin is so cozy and homey that it makes me want to lounge here all day. It doesn’t even smell like a dusty old cabin in the mountains like you might expect. Instead, it smells of cinnamon and pine. I’m pleasantly surprised at how comforting it is.
An hour passes as I sit here, taking in all the random knick-knacks and decorations, enjoying the ambiance. Being on vacation with no schedule or obligations is the best feeling in the world. It’s exactly what I needed. Any doubts I had about coming here are fading away.
Finally, I make my way to the bathroom to get ready for a day of exploring the town. I change into black jeans, a low-cut white top, and a black peacoat. I quickly fix my hair then place a tan beanie with a little pom-pom on top. I do a turn in the mirror. I’m not all that impressed by the reflection, but it will have to do. It’s much better than a year ago, anyway. My long, black hair looks fuller and healthier, the bags under my light brown eyes have receded, and my bronze olive skin has a glow again, rather than looking like a grey corpse.
As I make my way back to the kitchen, I stop and consider making one last shot of coffee. I don’t have an addiction or anything; I just really love the taste. Besides, I’m on vacation. That means I can drink an unlimited amount of coffee.
I decide to treat myself to one last helping of liquid energy, then exit the cabin, taking in the fresh snow outside. I hear a distant humming of a motor somewhere nearby, which isn’t unusual for around here. It could be a snowblower, a snowmobile, or something else. I don’t think much of it as I lock up the cabin and bounce down the stairs, excited for my day of exploration.
In hindsight, the bouncing wasn’t a good idea. There’s a fresh layer of snow on the ground, and when I reach the walkway, my feet slide out from beneath me and I flip straight onto my back. I’m dazed for a moment and realize it probably looked like something out of a movie. The drama of it all makes me laugh out loud. I remain on the ground for a moment, staring up at the sky and trees.
As I lie on the cold, hard earth, laughing at myself, a figure suddenly enters my line of vision, startling me out of my giggling fit. I quickly sit up and hear a deep, gravelly, male voice saying, “Whoa, easy.”
I look up at the hulking figure, squinting to see a face, but the sunlight makes it hard. His silhouette is outlined against the bright sky. A large, masculine hand stretches out toward me, and without thinking, I take it. He pulls me up with ease.
It isn’t until I’m standing up straight again, still well below the tall figure, that I look up at him. My stomach drops harder than my body just did on the ground.
“Are you alright?” the male asks, concern in his deep voice.
“Huh?”
I’m lost for words, staring. Our gazes are locked. I could never forget that stare—the alluring hazel eyes that haunted my dreams for many years. That smirk that was always glued to his face with the dimple on one side. It’s not there now, but I know it’s there hiding right beneath the surface. I’d never seriously thought that I’d see him again after all these years. I only dreamed about it. It’s Liam.
He pauses for a moment too, watching me, probably wondering what’s wrong with me or if I bumped my head.
“Are you…alright?” He clears his throat. “We were driving down the hill over there and saw your fall, and then you didn’t get up…”
“Yeah. I wasn’t being careful and slipped. I’m fine.” My cheeks flush in embarrassment.
“Are you sure? Did you hit your head or anything?” he asks, looking me up and down. I shiver under his gaze.
“No. Not at all. My butt might be a little sore tomorrow, but that’s about it.” Why did I say that?
He lets out a deep laugh, and a dimple appears on one side of his cheek. I can’t help but stare as dozens of memories pop into my head. Memories that had been buried deep, deep down.
It’s him. Something flashes in his gaze, and I’m not sure if it’s recognition or something else. Does he remember me? It was so long ago, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. Time seems to freeze as we take each other in for what’s only a few seconds, when he finally breaks the silence.
“Are you…from around here?” he asks.
Does he really not remember me? For some reason, a flash of disappointment washes over me. It’s been years since I’ve seen him; why should I expect him to remember me? I decide to follow his lead.
“No. I’m just in town visiting for a little while.”
He opens his mouth to ask more, but a little boy walks up behind him, tugging on his jacket.
“Is the lady okay?” the kid asks, looking back and forth between us.
“Yeah, bud. She’s okay. I’m pretty sure,” he says, quirking a brow and looking me over, double-checking.
I give a reassuring nod. “All good, just a little slip,” I say, smiling at the boy.
The man—who I’m almost positive is Liam—shoves his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet for a moment. I take the moment to study him further. He’s wearing a black beanie, but I can see a bit of dark hair poking out the side. He has a bit of stubble on his face, and he seems even taller than I remember. The rest of him is covered up in a thick black jacket and pants.
“Uncle Liam,” the kid behind him chimes in again, “do you think she has any kids for me to play with?” His eyes dart past me, looking for evidence of anyone else.
Liam looks back up at me, his eyebrow raised in question. He seems composed again. I can tell he carries himself with confidence. His gaze pierces me as he waits for an answer.
“Nope. Sorry, kiddo. It’s just me, all alone here in this cabin.” I feign disappointment, glancing at the kid. Then I catch Liam’s eye, and he’s still watching me with that intense gaze.
“Well, we should get going, dude. We don’t want to keep her from whatever her plans are,” Liam says to the boy.
“Aww, man.” The kid sighs. He’s adorable. I’d guess he’s around five or six years old.
“Well, it was nice to meet you guys,” I say with some pep, smiling and waving to the kid.
“You too! Maybe we’ll see you around. We live right down there.” The child points down the hill to a cluster of houses too far to make out clearly.
“It was nice to meet you…” Liam trails off.
“Layla,” I respond, watching his eyes for any recognition. He swallows, and his jaw twitches slightly.
“Layla,” he repeats, nodding and giving a closed-mouth smirk as he backs away. “It was nice to meet you, Layla,” he calls as he looks back over his shoulder, walking away toward a snowmobile parked a few dozen yards away.
That man has mischief in his eyes. He might be trouble.
Maybe Daniela was right—a little holiday hookup wouldn’t kill me.