13
Liam
I’m outside Layla’s cabin, knocking on the door. I realized the other night after she left that I should have offered to pick her up, but I got side-tracked. Between that smile of hers, her subtle fruity scent that I can’t get enough of, and Jackson, it’s hard to keep my head on straight. Plus, I had a long day in the kitchen, cooking and baking all of Jackson’s favorites. It was a miracle when Layla showed up with his truck. I don’t think she realizes how much that meant to him. I’m not entirely sure it’s smart to keep pushing to be around her when she’s probably leaving soon, but I can’t help myself. Then again, it’s mostly been Jackson’s doing. I’ve simply encouraged it a little.
Layla finally opens the door, looking surprised to see me. Her brown eyes widen in surprise, but I do a quick scan of her from head to toe, and she seems ready to go. She’s dressed in a low-cut green shirt, a black peacoat, leggings, and a beanie with a silly little ball on top. It’s cute.
“Afternoon,” I say with a huge grin.
“Afternoon. Did we…?”
“We never made plans for me to pick you up, but I realized this morning that it only makes sense. Hope you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” she says quickly, then flushes. “I mean, yeah it makes sense. Thank you for coming by.” She peeks around me to wave at Jackson, waiting in the truck. I turn and find him waving back with enthusiasm.
“Great. Are you ready then? No rush. We can wait.”
“I just need to throw on my boots,” she replies.
She shoves her feet into some dark boots that go up to her calves, and I watch her absently scrunch her nose in concentration as she locks the door. It’s adorable.
Back in the truck, Jackson immediately takes over the conversation for the entire drive. Layla never falters, staying actively engaged with him the whole time. I smile, listening to them banter, only piping in now and then. Apparently, Jackson has a new best friend, and my opinions aren’t wanted. I don’t blame him, though—she’s captivating when she speaks. Every now and then I sneak glances over at her while she’s responding to one of Jackson’s inquiries.
**
The skating rink in Tahoe City isn’t too crowded today, probably because it’s an especially freezing day. At least it’s not supposed to snow this morning, though you never really know here.
We check in and I buy everyone’s skates. Layla protests that she’ll pay for her own, but I insist. We invited her, after all. Well, Jackson did. Who knew he’d end up being such a great wingman? He got her to have dinner with us and come ice skating, all within a couple days. The kid is good. I’m not sure if she would have come to either event if it had been only me.
It’s been a few years since I’ve been on a real date with a girl, and now I’m on one with Jackson. It’s a big leap. She may not yet know this is a date, but I’m treating it as one anyway.
Jackson takes Layla’s hand once they’re all laced up and ready to go and pulls her out onto the large spread of ice. With Thanksgiving in only a few days, it’s usually so packed that you can barely move out there. But today, Jackson is able to skate around more freely. Layla doesn’t stumble or miss a beat as he pulls her along, and I hang back, smiling and watching.
They pass me on a turn, laughing together while making comments about my slowness, but I carry on at my own pace, smiling the whole way with my hands tucked in my pockets. Ice skating hasn’t always been my idea of a good time, but the kid loves it, so I enjoy taking him.
On the other side of the rink, I see them start to race. Jackson edges Layla out at the end of their short sprint. I’d guess that she let him have that one. He shouts over to me that I’m next, and I grin and give him a thumbs-up. Of course, I always let him win.
“Uncle Liam, did you see me win?” Jackson exclaims excitedly.
“Yeah, kid. I saw it. Very impressive. You might even be faster than last year. I don’t know if I can take you.”
“We’ll see, old man,” he says with a confident smirk.
We line up, and Layla counts down with a suspenseful tone, playing into the whole thing. I almost miss the “go” because I’m too busy watching and admiring her. The way her ridiculously long, dark hair is blowing in the slight breeze, the way her strong legs look while she moves on her skates…
I take off at a fast pace to catch up—I can’t make it too easy for him—and then at the very end, he wins out by inches. I feign disappointment and congratulate him on a well-fought race.
“You just need to keep practicing. You’ll get faster, Uncle Liam,” Jackson chirps, reaching up to give my bicep a reassuring pat.
“Great job, Big J,” Layla shouts as she skates up to us, high fiving him and flashing him a grin. She pats my bicep in the same spot that Jackson did, giving me a look of mock pity. “Great effort, Liam. Maybe you’ll get him next time.”
Her touch lingers on my bicep a little longer and we share a quiet look. A quick thrill flows through me at her touch, and I clear my throat. Jackson is standing beside us, watching.
“How about some hot chocolate?” I ask.
“Yeah!” Jackson exclaims.
“And coffee?” I ask Layla.
“Definitely coffee,” she replies, appearing grateful and eager.
We get in the short line and listen to Jackson’s dramatic retelling of both of our races, describing how hard we both fought and how he edged us out. Layla and I exchange smiles, sharing a secret—knowing we both let him win.
When it’s our turn to order, Jackson requests a hot cocoa with extra whipped cream, Layla orders a black coffee, and I get the same. She glances at me as I copy her order, and I return the glance with a tight-lipped smile.
“Thank you,” she says as I scan my card to pay, her voice gentle, her eyes going distant for a moment.
“You’re welcome.”
We find seats at an empty table with heating posts nearby. Layla holds her steaming cup of coffee like it’s her lifeline, her arms tucked in tight.
“Cold?” I ask.
“A little. But this is helping,” she gestures to her cup and the heating posts.
“Moving around out there definitely helps. As soon as you stop moving for too long, it hits you hard.”
“Definitely,” she agrees, taking a sip of her drink. It must not be too hot because she doesn’t react.
I follow her lead and take a sip also. It’s the perfect temperature. The taste isn’t anything amazing, though.
“Not bad,” I comment.
Across the table, Jackson is lost in his hot chocolate. I chuckle at the dollop of whipped cream on his nose but don’t say anything.
“Not bad at all for ice rink coffee.” She nods in agreement.
“So, how long are you in town for?” I ask.
“Well, I have the cabin booked until just after Thanksgiving, so a little over two weeks. But I might stay a little longer, depending on how I feel. I talked to the owner and they’re willing to let me extend my stay if I choose to—as long as they don’t get any other bookings.
“And you don’t have to be back for work or anything?”
“No, not really,” she pauses, not elaborating on the work thing. “I just needed a change of scenery…a break from everything. And I love it here.”
“So…You’ve been here before? Do you visit often?” I press, curious about why a woman in her twenties is here by herself for several weeks.
“Yes…” she gives me a sidelong glance. “I’ve been coming with my family for years. My parents always loved it here.”
Just as I’m about to respond, I hear a child’s voice yell, “Jackson!” It’s his buddy Xavier, running up to him. They chat for a moment while Xavier’s parents stand nearby and wave. I know them a little since he and Jackson are in the same class at school.
“Can I go skate with Xavier?” Jackson pleads.
“Sure, bud. Go ahead. I’ll be right here and don’t leave the rink unless you’re coming right back here.” Jackson and Xavier awkwardly jump in excitement on their skates, then waddle off. His parents give me a nod and a wave.
I turn my attention back to Layla. “Sorry about that.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t be.”
“So, you’re here for another ten or so days. What else do you have planned?”
“Honestly, I’m kind of winging it. Trying to live in the moment. I’m just enjoying being here, it feels so festive and magical. I miss that feeling. Sacramento can get a little dull around this time of year.”
I smile. “I know what you mean. Not that I’ve spent much time in Sacramento. I’ve only really passed through on the way to college. But about that feeling you get here. There’s no place like it in the world. Not for me, anyway.”
She smiles back, and our gazes lock for a moment. It looks like she wants to say so much more, but I really can’t read the emotions on her face right now.
“Can I take you somewhere tomorrow?” I ask confidently, though I blurt it out on a whim. What am I doing? This woman just showed up a few days ago and will be gone in a little over a week. But she gives me the cutest tight-lipped smile, and all logic is out the window.
“Depends…where are you taking me?” she replies with a coy smile, but I know I’ve got her.
“You’ll have to wait and see.” I return her coy look and bump her knee with mine. Then I force myself to pull my attention away from her for a moment to watch Jackson, making sure he’s okay out there. He’s skating along with his friend, looking thrilled.
“I hate surprises,” she pouts, though she’s fighting back a smile.
“You’ll like this one,” I wink back at her.
She gives me a side-eye, then sips her coffee while watching the skaters pass by.
I watch her for a moment as she takes in the people going by. The subtle bump in her cute nose, her long lashes that flutter every so often when she blinks, her perfect lips as they sip from her steaming cup—she’s captivating to look at. I sit beside her, taking it all in as I sip my own black coffee. It’s a drink that I grew fond of so many years ago, back when a certain brown-eyed girl waltzed into my life, took my breath away, and then left just as quickly.
Layla may be leaving in a little over a week, but I don’t think I’m going to let her go so easily.
Not this time.