I let out a slow breath. “I don’t know. But it’s sitting heavy.”
Layla opens her mouth to respond when someone catches my eye.
Iris.
Her floral dress hangs on her thin frame, her dark hair flowing down her back in messy waves.
She’s damn beautiful today.
I wave, and she waves back awkwardly, instantly putting a smile on my face.
When I look back at Layla to continue our conversation, she’s staring at me with a big knowing smile. “What?” I ask, my tone too defensive to play innocent.
“So, Iris?”
“What about her?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. Why does everybody gotta keep calling me out over my little crush?
I admit it, I think she’s pretty.
So what? I’m sure everybody else feels the same way when they see her.
How could they not?
Layla doesn’t say anything, just waits with her eyebrows raised until I sigh and scratch the back of my neck. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“No way,” she shoots back, all fake shock, like she already knew.
Which she didn’t. I’m notthatobvious.
“Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
She grins. “You never talk about your feelings. This is the first real confession I’ve gotten out of you inyears. I’m taking a moment to appreciate it.”
“It ain’t a confession. It’s an observation.”
“So youdon’twant to take her out?”
I don’t say anything to that. I hate when she’s right. “That’s what I thought.”
“I’m serious, Layla. She’s—” I pause, looking down at the cracked pavement. “I think she might be the real deal.”
I glance up and watch the clouds move slowly across the sky. I don’t like talking about shit like this, but hell, Layla already knows.
“I want to know her. Actually know her, not just sleep with her.”
Layla whistles, “Damn. Youlikeher.”
I let out a disbelieving breath. “Yeah. I guess I do.”
“So why haven’t you asked her out yet?”
I shrug. “Didn’t want to be weird. She’s new, probably still trying to get her bearings. Besides, what would she want with me?”
Layla swats me on the chest with the back of her hand, ring and all. “She’d be lucky to have you, Wesley. Don’t talk about yourself like that.”
“Damn, that hurt,” I complain, rubbing the spot. “I was thinking I might ask her to dinner. Nothing big, just something to get to know each other outside of work.”
“For what it’s worth? I think she’d say yes.”
