

Holding

the

Wild Card

Audrey and Layne's story

### Dedicated to anyone who's gambled on love,

### and won.

Holding the Wild Card, 1st in the Love's a Gamble Series

Copyright © 2019 by

Mareta L. Miller

Edited by Megan Cutler @ www.Megancutler.net

This is a work of fiction. All names, locations, and characters are fictitious and are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, names, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, address the publisher at: Mareta L. Miller PO Box 12573 Las Vegas, NV 89112

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Epilogue

Playing the Rush sneak peek

acknowledgments

Audrey

Dammit! Why is it that you only ever run into traffic when you're running late to begin with? It's the story of my life, and, right now, my story is outrageously affected by never-ending Las Vegas construction. It seems like anywhere and everywhere I need to go is lined with orange cones anymore. There is no life in the fast lane when the fast lane is the only one in operation.

Usually I'd allow for more time to transit between jobs, but I wasn't even supposed to work at the coffee shop this morning. I was covering for Phil, who was nursing another hangover. He texted me at three to tell me he had just gotten in and needed a couple hours of sleep. Wanting to do whatever I can to help, and cover his ass yet again, I came in to open and stayed waiting for him to surface. When he did, I patted him on the back and ran out the door. I'll have to wait to get the latest saga in Phillerup's life later.

Sometimes it's a curse, but I'm not the type to bail on a friend when I'm needed. I knew that even under these horrid road conditions, it should only take me twenty minutes to get to the shop. Now, as I watch the clock tick, and my speedometer sit at a steady zero, I'm starting to panic.

I reach over to dig my phone out of my purse in the passenger seat. Normally, I wouldn't dare make a call while driving but, as I see it, I'm not really driving. But still, trying to stay inconspicuous, I keep the phone low and, once I've dialed the number for the shop, I tap the speaker icon.

"Steve's Auto Service. This is Steve."

"Hey Steve, it's Audrey."

"Hey Audrey. What's going on? Please don't tell me that you're not coming in. I have six cars lined up here already and it's only seven thirty." His plea sounds stressed, as always.

"Take it easy. I'll be there, but I'll be a few minutes late. I had to open the coffee shop for Phillip and got out later than I hoped. Now I'm admiring the not so pretty official city of Las Vegas flowers, also known as construction cones. Another three passes at this light and I should finally get moving."

"Late, I can handle. I'm going to make you a deal; if you stop and pick me up a Rockstar on your way in, I'll forget about it. I could use a little extra energy right now."

"You got it. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I'll see you when you get here."

"Thanks, Steve."

I hated making that call. I hate being late to work. It's not that Steve cares too much, as long as I get there eventually, but I think it makes me look irresponsible, and I'm not. If anything, I'm more responsible than any other twenty-three-year-old I know. I work two jobs, help take care of my mother, who suffers from mental illness, and go to school. I have little to no time for myself or anyone else, which explains my single status and the fact that I only have two friends.

I just can't wait for the day when I can slow down and enjoy more of my life rather than wonder what day it is and which job I'm supposed to be working, which most days is both. Unfortunately, six years of school wasn't part of my plan either but I changed my major to clinical psychology. Then, when I figured out that I needed a master's degree to make it all work, I didn't have much of a choice. My dad always said, if you're going to do it, do it right. So, slowing down is at least two more semesters and a couple thousand hours of supervised experience away.

The light turns green again and another five cars make their way through. Ugh! I look down at my radio to see the time and realize that I've been at the same light for more than five minutes. The funny thing is that even if I'd gone another way, I would've hit the same trouble. Let's not stagger the efforts to improve our roads. Nope, let's do it all at one time.

While I have time to sit and think, which is another rarity in my world, I remember my trip to Boston last year when I visited my Aunt Jo. I had the time of my life and it's times like this that the public transit they have seems more than ingenious. I'd give anything to not have to drive in this congested city. I'd easily trade driving for a train pass, where nothing more is required than knowing when and where to get off. Boston is the city of my dreams, but that's as much as it can be for now. My mom's not willing to relocate, especially all the way to Boston, and it would kill her if I left her to move all the way across the country. One day though, I'm going to go.

The car in front of me starts to move and I let up on the break. One more and I'll be home free. This time, instead of allowing my mind to wander, I take a look around me. There's a man on the sidewalk holding a sign that quotes scripture in bright highlighted letters. He whistles as he walks and makes eye contact with me. I turn my head, instantly feeling as though he's staring deep into my sin sin-ridden soul. His continued stare makes me feel uncomfortable and I make a bold move of looking at him with my most evil stare, forcing him to look away. I won that one but his actions continue to bother me.

Maybe I've watched too many episodes of Criminal Minds, but I have a feeling he views me as a sinner and may actually think that ridding the world of my unholy existence might just be his act of God. My pink-streaked blonde hair and low-cut shirts often cause people to judge me. Usually, I brush it off and use it as a way to reinforce the lesson, don't judge a book by its cover. I could care less what his signs say; the way his eyes bore into mine just seconds ago made my skin crawl. He's more than judging me but I just shake my head because I'm judging him too, and my gut is saying he's a creeper.

The light turns green and I see my freedom ahead. I start to move and once I'm through the light I turn on my blinker to move to the right so that I'm in the lane I need to be to pull into the gas station ahead. But as I start to make the lane change, I hear the roaring of an engine behind me, then I see the culprit pull up beside me, causing me to swerve back into my lane to avoid hitting him, just before revving the engine and springing ahead. Before I even comprehend the disaster that almost happened, the driver guns it and races passed me.

"Fucking dick!" I yell but, of course, he can't hear me. Usually it makes me feel better, but today it just pisses me off more. "Relax, Audrey. There's only one reason a guy would drive like that in a car like that. Small dick and trying to prove different," I say to myself, causing me to smile.

I've gotten myself calmed down when I pull into the gas station. Then I see it. It's the blue Dodge Charger that almost ran me off the damn road. My blood, which was finally running blue again, starts to boil and, for a second, I think I should just go to another gas station—there's at least three more on the way to the shop. But then I think, no. I'm not running from this asshole. I doubt he'd recognize me anyway because jerks like him never actually pay attention to who they almost run off the road.

All the parking spots are taken, so I park at an empty pump. I guess that's fates way of telling me that since I'm here, I might as well put a twenty in my stallion. I grab money out of my wallet and, as I get out of my Mustang, I shove the cash in my back pocket and walk towards the store. I walk right past the asshole without a glance his way but, apparently, he isn't capable of the same courtesy.

He whistles at me, a cheap catcall, then says just loud enough for me to hear, _look at that fine ass_. I just keep walking. It's my experience that men, no wait boys, that behave like that are just looking for a reaction. Well, not today. Not this girl.

I go straight to the cooler to get Steve and I a Rockstar and walk up to the counter to pay for them and the gas. The clerk makes small talk about my car, guessing it's a 1966; close but no cigar buddy. I kindly correct him and watch as he ogles at the amount of breast my shirt makes visible instead of looking at my eyes, all the while attempting to know anything about cars. It happens often, but I refuse to change my fashion preference because men can only think with one head at a time. As I see it, his reaction is proof that females are superior. After all, you never see women lose their freaking minds over the outline of a man's junk in his tight blue jeans, now do you?

I walk back out to my car and the asshole is still there. He's not serving any purpose as far as I can see. His gas pump has been restored to its holster and he leans against his car. _Just keep walking, Audrey_. I get to my car and put the bag in the front seat, then go to pump my twenty dollars' worth. With nothing else to do, I watch the numbers on the pump and will them to go faster and, as the last forty cents flow into my tank, I hear his voice.

"Seventy-three, right? With a 302?"

"So, you know a little about cars? I'm so impressed." I roll my eyes.

"Nice ride for a forty-year-old car." I hang up the pump and tighten my gas cap. I bite my tongue and don't bother to say more while I walk away to get into my car. But my control is quickly failing and I need to get out of here.

Apparently, he takes the hint and turns to get in his car. I figure I'm rid of him but, once in, he starts his car and revs the engine. Then he yells out the window to me.

"Yours is nice, but this is a real car. Hemi all the way. Too much for a little girl like you to handle though."

That's it! All control is lost.

I exit my car and walk over to his door. Then I lean down into the window knowing that his mind will be lost in my cleavage while I let him have a piece of my mind. Then, in the nicest, calmest voice possible, I commence my verbal assault.

"Was it not enough that you almost hit me earlier while driving like a total ass? Now, you feel the need to insult my ability to keep up with you in the horsepower department too? Well, maybe you should stop thinking with your dick long enough to consider that, yes, your car is a beautiful example of American-made muscle, but while you were waiting for it to roll off the assembly line and be delivered to your sorry ass, I busted mine to build the beauty I drive. I consider it a privilege and an accomplishment to drive a piece of history, thank you very much." Surprise, he has nothing to say.

I walk back to my car, get in and start up the engine, then let it idle while I toss out the last words I'll ever waste on Mr. Asshole.

"By the way, you should really get your engine checked. It sounds like shit and I think it's probably too much for a little boy like _you_ to handle." Then I grab my stick shift, moving it into place and leave him to chew on those words for a while.

Layne

Did that just happen? I feel the intense need to go after that girl for pride's sake, but rational thinking tells me to hang back and let it go. I'm not used to girls coming at me like that. I mean, they come at me, but not to call me on my shit. Usually, they want it, they beg for it, and my gym clothes generally serve as a complete aphrodisiac.

I can't help but to admit she caught my eye. Tight jeans, a shirt that covered only enough to leave me wondering whether or not she had her navel pierced and, when she came over and talked to me, I could see the silver ball of a tongue ring flicking inside her mouth as she spoke. Then, to top it off, cowboy boots. She was definitely hot— the I would love to feel that little silver ball on my cock kind of hot.

"Gotta let it go man," I tell myself. "She's not your type and you're not hers and chances are you'll never see her again anyway." But a part of me definitely wanted to.

I shake my head to clear her image and remember that she said my engine sounded like shit. What would she know? But paranoia sets in and I reach over and turn down the radio to see if can hear whatever it is she thinks she heard. And, I do. A knocking sound, fuck! She wasn't messing with me and now I'm even more pissed off because she called me on it. I don't know dick about working on cars. I'm a technical guy, not a mechanical guy.

Great, just great! I bang my hands on the steering wheel. The warranty just ran out a couple months ago, so taking it to the dealer is out. I refuse to pay dealer prices for work someone else can do just as good and for a fraction of the cost. I'll have to talk to the guys and get a good recommendation. My car carries a sort of sentimental value for me; it was a gift from my parents when I graduated college. No matter how many more cars I may one day be able to afford, this one's my baby; the car I always wanted.

I look at my watch and, of course, I'm running late. Miles is going to kill me... again. I pull out of the gas station and, for a second, find myself looking for her car. The teal blue convertible with the black interior and top, but she's nowhere in sight. I know it's a good thing; I wouldn't know whether to be embarrassed or hand a little of the attitude she served me right back to her. It's definitely best that our paths don't cross again. We're oil and water; we just don't mix.

As I'm pulling onto the street, my phone starts ringing. I press the button on my Bluetooth to make the connection, knowing already who it is and bracing myself for the storm.

"Layne! Where the fuck are you? You were supposed to be here five minutes ago!" Miles yells from the other end of the line. He hates it when I'm late and my constant lack of punctuality drives him crazy. I often wonder why he bothers giving me a specific time to be anywhere at all.

"I'm sorry man. I hit traffic and stopped to get gas. I'll be there in five."

"Well, I guess I'll just sit here and wait like I've been doing, because I have nothing. Better. To. Do!"

"Five minutes." I disconnect because I know him too well—he'll never stop bitching. Then I remember where it is he has to be and I lay my foot a little harder on the gas pedal.

I've known Miles since I was in high school, thus why he's my best friend and roommate. He's what some people would call weird, but I don't see him that way. He is a horse of many colors. He's different, but he's brilliant. He's a creative artist and just started his band a few months ago. From what I've heard, I just know they're going to make it big one day. He keeps me in line and I get him to chill out. Together we have balance and, if we were gay, we'd make the perfect couple.

Anyway, he lost his license about a month ago to the simplest of bad decisions made in sin city; he drove drunk. He was out with the band after a set and made a bad call after a few too many shots. I don't, at all, condone what he did, which is why I took his keys away after the incident. It was a bad call, but it also could've been fatal. It wasn't until then that I started to see the real problem—he drinks too much, all the time. When I can, I take him where he needs to go, but I can't do that forever. Eventually, we have to fix the problem.

I walk in the door of the house and find myself nose to nose with Miles, who was at the door waiting for me to walk in.

"Come on dick! I'm going to be late and they won't let me in if I'm late." He pushes past me, heading towards the car.

"Nice to see you too, Miles. How was your morning?" I ask sarcastically as I turnabout to go right back out the way I came in.

He climbs in the passenger seat and sits, waiting once more for me to catch up. I climb in the driver's seat and turn the key in the ignition to bring my baby to life.

"Where to?"

"City of Las Vegas building on Lewis Avenue. This would've been so much easier if you'd just given me my damn keys."

"Um, your license is revoked, remember? DUI class day, huh?" I act like I forgot.

"Yeah. I swear for all the shit you have to go through, you'd think I'd killed someone."

"Dude, you could've," I say seriously.

"Okay, fine, but I didn't. Would it help if I said I'll never drink and drive again? I'll just drink at home. Drinking at home is perfectly acceptable."

"Well, the fact that you didn't hurt anyone in the process makes all this shit a success story, but I still don't know why you did it anyway. You had choices. You could've called me."

"I know that and if I had been thinking coherently, which is usually not the case when alcohol is involved, I would have. Lucky for me, I had an angel on my shoulder that night and _she_ was watching not only me but everyone else too." He turns his head to look out the window.

I know who he's talking about when he says _she_. He's referring to his mom. She passed away almost two years ago of cancer and he doesn't talk about her much. I believe his silence on the matter is just his way of dealing with it but, every once in a while, when something extraordinary happens, he credits her for watching over him. Right now, though, I think we need a change of subject.

"So how are things with you and that girl you met? What was her name? Shannon?"

He turns back to me and the mention of her puts a fresh smile on his face.

"Her name is Brandyn and it's going good. In fact, were meeting up tomorrow night to play pool and listen to a new band at Sass and Sins. Hey, you should come. I'm sure we can find a forth and play couples."

I glare at him and he knows why. Layne Turner is not a _couple's_ guy.

"Don't give me that look. You know one day you're going to get over this one-night stand phase of your life. It can't last forever," he says.

"Says the hopeless romantic."

"Whatever. One shitty girlfriend broke your heart three years ago. Get over it. Not all women are like Mel. It wasn't meant to be and I'm glad she's gone because she was a major bitch and a liar. The shit she pulled on you was fucked dude."

"A, my heart wasn't broken, just bruised, and that lasted like five minutes. B, she made me realize that I'm not ready to settle down. My business is growing and I need to focus on that and my simulation program right now, not a woman. C, why settle for just one girl when I can have any girl, any time?"

"You're a heartless man-whore," he says and I laugh.

"Jealous?"

"Nope."

"Different strokes for different folks."

"Fuck you," he huffs, which is how he always ends conversations when he has nothing more to say.

"Love you too, pumpkin." I pull up in front of the city building to let him out. "How long does this thing last?"

"Eight hours. I should be out at five."

"Burgers after I pick you up?"

"Add some beers in there and it sounds like the perfect way to celebrate." He raises his eyebrows and I ignore his request.

"Later man."

Miles jumps out and runs into the building. I shift into drive, start to pull away, but again I hear that stupid knock. Of course, hearing it brings to mind the untamed beauty who brought it to my attention to begin with. _Stop it Layne. Just let it go._ I shake my head to get her out of it so I can focus on the issue at hand.

I suppose I should park my car until I figure out where I'm going to take it. I know I've heard that a knocking sound can start as a small issue and escalate fast. It can also get real expensive. In the meantime, I can use Miles' car because he can't drive it for another two months anyway and I have his keys. Problem solved.

As I'm driving back home to shower and tend today's schedule, I flip through the radio stations looking for something upbeat. Even though this morning bore bad news about my car and a mouth-lashing from an unknown beauty, it's a good day. I'm so close to completing my software and expect it to be the turning point I've been waiting for.

Ballads, mariachi, and rap. Just not the tunes I'm looking for. I push the button one more time and stop as the lyrics wash over me. _Mustang Sally_. Well, I'll be dammed. It doesn't look like the fates are going to be quick to let me forget about her, now are they?

Audrey

I know Steve told me not to worry about being a few minutes late, but it's in my nature to worry. Especially when it comes to my dependability. Not that I usually come to work in half-ass mode, but I've been busting ass today to make up for this morning's tardiness and to prove myself thankful to Steve for not making a big deal out of it.

I'm just finishing up my last ticket of the day when Steve walks into my bay.

"How's it coming Audrey? Got it figured out yet?"

"Yup. Almost done. It was just a hose."

"You're amazing. Do you know how many guys I've hired over the years that had been working on cars longer than you've been alive, that took twice as long as you do to diagnose the issue? You're like the son I never had."

"Yeah, I was the son my dad never had too. You're just lucky enough to reap what he sowed." I stand up from over the engine and remove my gloves before climbing into the driver's seat and turning the key. The engine roars to life and I press the gas a couple of times to rev it up, then leave it to idle as I go to make sure I've got no leaks.

Steve is already on the ground checking by the time I get there. "How's it look, Boss?" He gives me a thumb up from under the front end because I wouldn't hear him over the noise of the engine anyway, and I get back in the car to cut the engine. I come back around the car and drop the keys into his hands. "Anything else I can do?" I ask.

"Nope, we're done for the day."

"Are you sure? I don't mind staying." It's the guilt talking.

"Don't you have plans for a Friday night?"

"If you consider sitting at home with my cat and watching Netflix, plans."

"At my age, yes, at yours, never. When I was your age I was always out partying." I roll my eyes, because I just can't picture Steve as the party master.

"Well, my idea of partying is sitting at home with my cat, Netflix, and a bottle of good Indian pale ale. Is that better?"

"Conversations like this are a prime example of why I'm perfectly happy being single. There's just no winning with women nowadays." I laugh and so does he. "Get out of here. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Love ya, Steve. Don't party too hard tonight." I say as I walk towards the office.

"Good night, Audrey," he says, pretending to be annoyed with me.

I would never in a million years try to replace my dad, but Steve is an awesome surrogate. He has the same patience and humor my dad did, which is why I love working with him. Part of me dreads the day when I'll have my degree and move on, but I have to do something more than this. I don't want to be like my mother, with no schooling and no security after my father died. I've watched her wither away and, literally, go crazy without him. Her constant struggle with depression is the influence behind my career choice as a counselor. I want to understand and help people like her.

I'd like to think I can be a stronger person, starting with having a life of my own before I share it with someone else. My love life is nonexistent by choice and I don't see my choice changing anytime soon.

I take off my work shirt, hang it on the hook just inside the office door and grab my keys. It's been a long day and I want nothing more than to go home and lose myself in a nearly scalding hot bubble bath but, first, I think I'll stop by the liquor store and pick up a couple new beers off of the loose bottle isle. I may not be able to slow down my entire life, but I can relax for one night. I think I owe myself that much.

It's late April, which means it's not too hot out yet and I decide to put the top down for the drive home. You don't have long to take advantage of nice weather in Vegas. Before I know it, this town of mine will turn into Satan's layer because spring last like five minutes, tops. It's not that far of a drive and I make sure I never keep anything of real value in the car so I don't have to worry if I do stop. I'll just make one quick stop to grab a couple of beers and I'm going home to relax and forget that tomorrow I get to do it all over again.

Tomorrow's itinerary starts with an opening shift at the coffee shop and then a closing shift at Steve's. Sunday is reserved for polishing up my papers for finals and studying. In two and a half weeks I have exams and then I'll have the summer to work as much as possible to save up for next semester. I have a savings account my parents set up when I was a kid, but I don't want to use it on school when I can work my way through just the same and have that nest egg for later. Just thinking about my hectic schedule makes my trip to the liquor store more necessary and I'm wondering if maybe I should get something a little stronger than beer.

I walk through the store and straight to the isle with the loose bottles. There are so many to choose from but I have my go-to's, usually a strong IPA, but tonight I want something different. Perusing, I see a bottle that catches my eye. Arrogant Bastard ale. My mind immediately goes to the guy at the gas station this morning and a new wave of irritation floods me for the disrespect he showed my car, thinking his was so much better, but even more for thinking that I was some weak girl he could treat like an object. I guarantee my metaphorical balls are bigger than his any day. Men with money, and I assume he must have some, are almost always arrogant assholes. But now, staring at the bottle, I'm intrigued about what an arrogant bastard tastes like, and not just the beer. He was beautiful, not that I would've let him know that.

I remember his brown, wavy hair and hazel eyes that looked gold in the sun. The way his shirt laid loosely over his chest, but showed enough for me to know that he was sculpted underneath and last, but certainly not least, the one detail I thought about all afternoon: the dimple on his left cheek when he smiled. Stop, Audrey! I shake my head and pick up the bottle and the one next to it, then walk over to the register and, as I pass, pick a couple of mini bottles of booze. I settle on a cherry vodka and a Goldschlager, shots that won't make me gag.

When I get home, the house is empty. My roommate and best friend, Brandyn, is a hairdresser, and she's pretty great at it. Sometimes she'll take a late client, leaving me a few rare silent moments. I figure I'll get my bath out of the way while she's not home, so we're not fighting over hot water later. I put my bottles in the freezer and set the timer on the microwave for thirty-five minutes, then head to my room, stripping as I walk down the hall. Bessie, my Maine Coon Calico, sits on my pillow and, as soon as I walk into my room, she comes to the end of the bed to greet me.

"Hello Bessie, my dear." I take her head in both my hands and rub her ears while I bring my lips to her forehead to kiss her. As always, she starts to purr, glad that I'm finally home. She watches as I undress and as soon as I take my towel off the hook on the wall, she jumps off the bed and walks toward the bathroom.

I always laugh when she does that. I once heard someone mention how hard it was to herd cats and my response to his statement was simple. Just walk into a bathroom. I suppose I can't speak for all cats but, in my experience with Bessie, it works every time.

As much as I'm looking forward to my bath, I choose to shower first. I turn the water as hot as I can handle then step under the spray. Oh... This combined with a shot and a couple beers is all it's going to take to put me down tonight. A while back, after my dad died, I started a routine of meditating in the shower. It was the only place where I could clear my head and find peace and nothingness— the only place I could be alone without watchful and worried eyes always looking after me. As the water washes over me, I'm able to clear my mind and allow every minute of the day to disappear. The heat. The steam. With my eyes closed, I imagine the trails the water leave on my skin are washing away every frustration, every stress, and every second of uncertainty. When I open my eyes again, I feel renewed. I put in the plug, switch to the faucet and take a seat while the tub fills.

Though we have our own bathrooms for vanity purposes, mine is the only one with a tub and shower. Brandyn always gets pissed because I take so long in the shower, but she knows how important this time is to me and how it aids in my sanity. She might actually argue that, even with hour-long bathing sessions, my sanity is often a matter of question, but she's also seen me break down and knows how bad I can get. She's been there when I've reached a breaking point and it was then she proved how good a friend she is. She saw and she stayed; if she only knew what that means to me. I've seen enough people come and go in my life; some of them are dead and some of them are still alive. The living just couldn't handle the chaos inside me.

Layne

I wait in front of the City of Las Vegas building to pick up Miles from his class. I'm checking my email on my phone when the door opens and he climbs in. I look over at him but he doesn't say a word; he just sits, looking out the windshield.

"So, how did it go?" I ask hesitantly. It's obvious that he's disturbed.

"It was fucking traumatizing. I need a drink right now to calm the unsettling feeling that class left behind."

"Somehow, I don't think that's the attitude you should have right now. From here on out, just know when to call a cab, okay? Are you still up for burgers?"

"As long as you throw in a beer and you're still buying."

I shake my head, he's just never going to learn.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturdays, oh how I love them. A day for laziness, a day for rest. So why the hell am I up at a quarter to seven? Well, because I have to take my car to the shop and hope that whatever is wrong can be fixed without costing an arm and a leg. Last night while Miles and I were out, a couple of our friends showed up and we ended up hanging out for a while. Travis recommended a shop and gave me their card. He says it's the only shop in this town he trusts. He also told me to throw out his name because he's good friends with a girl who works there. Of course there's a girl; that Travis sure is a charmer.

Whatever I have to do, I just want it done right. Since Miles can't drive, he can't follow me to the shop to give me a ride back, I'm going to have to throw my bike in the trunk for the ride home. Time to live dangerously on the streets of Vegas and hope that I get home in one piece. I just thank God it's not hot out yet because if it was July, it could easily be hot as hell by nine in the morning.

I roll out of bed and decide a shower can wait until I get home. I throw on a t-shirt and shorts then, after running a brush through my hair, I cover it up with my favorite Red Sox baseball cap. Now off to grab a bite to eat and head out the door. I Google the address and it's only a little more than five miles away, so I throw my bike in the trunk and hit the road.

I pull up to the garage and see that one bay is closed and there's already a car in the other. I find a parking spot, kill the engine, and step out, then walk up to the open bay door. I spot a man bent over the side of the car, his upper half hidden by the hood.

"Hello! I need to drop off my car."

"Give me just a second," the man yells, still hidden inside the car.

I just kind of stand there oddly while I wait, focusing on the happenings on the street while he finishes up. Then he comes up beside me. "So, what seems to be the problem?"

I point to my car. "There's a small knock and I'm by no means a mechanic, but I do know that's not a good thing."

"Not usually. When did it start?" he asks as we walk toward the car.

"I just noticed it yesterday. My friend Travis recommended you."

He smiles and nods his head.

"I love that kid. He sends a lot of work my way. We'll get it in and take a look, but I'm all by myself until noon, then my help gets here. We can write it up and you can either leave it here now or bring it back later."

"I'll go ahead leave it, that way when you're ready it'll be here. I brought my bike as an alternate mode of transportation."

"Let me grab my clipboard. By the way, I'm Steve. Nice to meet you..."

"Layne," I reply.

"Okay Layne. I'll be right back."

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I make it home safe and reward myself by plopping down on the couch, kicking my feet up on the coffee table, and grabbing the TV remote. It's not hot yet but five and a half miles on Vegas pavement is just enough to wear me out. Funny enough, it probably took me less time than driving, since every damn street in this city seems to be under construction and I got to zip by instead of being held captive at every light.

I'm scrolling through the guide to find a game on when Miles walks into the living room. "Did you get the beast dropped off?"

"Yup, so we'll have to take your car tonight."

"You're going to come out with me? That's awesome, I can introduce you to Brandyn."

"I'm going out with you, but no setups and no couples' pool. I can have fun just hanging out with you guys and people watching. I think Travis may be there too, so I won't be the only single guy. But you know me, just because I arrive single doesn't mean I leave alone." He rolls his eyes at me, which I ignore and go on. "Do you know what band is playing tonight?"

"A new one. I think they're called Eaten Carnations; they play alternative rock. I've heard they're pretty good."

"Right on. You have any plans for today?"

"I was going to update the band's Facebook page and mess around with a couple ideas I have for songs."

"Okay, well I don't have any lessons today so I'm going to go take a shower and try to get some work done on the Level 6 program."

"See you later, geek!"

"Whatever, jailbird."

"That's low, even for you Layne."

"I win."

Audrey

Saturday mornings at the coffee shop are always busy. So busy that I almost didn't get the story from Phillip about Thursday nights shenanigans; but I'm not going to leave here today until I get it. Phillip and I are polar opposites, except that we both like dick, but I think that's the secret of our relationship and why we've always gotten along so well. I'm the black to his white, and he's the Yin to my Yang.

Phillip and I met my junior year of high school. He was coming out of the closet while I wanted to hide in mine. That was the year my dad died and I wanted nothing more than to drop out school and never go back. I know people were just trying to be nice, but I was sick of the hugs and how are you doing's? I just wanted to be left alone.

I was hiding behind one of the portables, smoking, one day when Phillip showed up. I'd seen him before, walking through the halls, but we'd never spoken a word to each other.

"You got a light?" he asked as he walked up to me, a cigarette settled between his fingers.

"Sure." I handed him my lighter; he lit his cigarette and handed it back.

"Thanks," he said and took in a long drag. "I'm Phillip."

"Audrey," I said as I nodded a hello. That was all. Not another word was spoken between us that day.

In the weeks after, our smoke breaks behind the portable became a regular thing. We never really talked much, which was just fine because I didn't want to, hence the reason I hid behind the portable to begin with. But I admit it was nice to have someone near, close enough that I wasn't alone but far enough to know he wasn't burdened with keeping an eye on me. I secretly enjoyed our silent companionship and it got to a point that he didn't even have to ask for my lighter; as soon as he showed up I'd light my cigarette and hand it over to him.

One day, a day I really wish I would've stayed home, Phillip was late showing up. I figured he'd taken the day off and that was then I realized that I'd become dependent on him and our silent moments. As much as I tried not to, I cried. Not only because it was the first year I wasn't spending my father's birthday with him, but also because I was alone and, somehow, I knew the only thing that could make my day better was a cigarette behind the portable with someone I didn't really know, but considered my best friend. I let the tears flow, feeling so alone. But as I stood, smoking my cigarette and letting my sadness flow from my body, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around me. I turned in Phillip's arms and let the attention I had always avoided embrace me. As it always was between us, he didn't say a word but he gave me exactly what I needed.

From that day on, we were best friends. He didn't ask too many questions and I didn't offer too much information. The chemistry between us was completely platonic, which was natural with him being gay. But it was actually sibling-like and so comfortable. The last week of school, as we sat behind the portable, I gave Phillip a gift. It was just a little something that many would find stupid but, between us, it had a special meaning.

"I got this for you. Something to remember me by over the summer."

He opened the small box and started laughing. "My own lighter?"

"Yeah. Your very own Bic. I don't want you to go quitting on me this summer because you don't have my fire." I shoulder bumped him.

"This should get me through, but I'd rather have your lighter... and you." He bumped my shoulder back.

"I'll be busy working at the coffee shop all summer. I'm sure we'll see each other around. Are you going to get a summer job?"

"I need to. Is the coffee shop hiring? I could kill two birds with one stone. I'd make some money, see you, and then I wouldn't need this." He held up the lighter.

"I'll ask Emma. I have to admit, it would be nice to keep you around." I looked down at my hands. "I'm stepping out of my tough shell to risk sounding a little sappy here, but you have been exactly what I needed this year, Phillip. Thank you."

"Audrey, we found each other while hiding from everyone else. I think we were exactly what each other needed this year. That doesn't have to end, you know? We can still hang out. I can hang out at your house, tell your mom I'm gay and maybe she'll let me stay. Now that my mom knows I'm gay and hates it, I hate being there." We both frown at his admission because it's sad to know that his mother can't support him. But in that moment, I felt closer to him than anyone since my dad left me. Phillip, or Phillerup, as I came to call him, was my rock.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, are you going to explain yourself, Mister? What the hell was with yesterday morning?"

"The Garage and a hottie named, Clint. Need I say more?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Whore! You get more dick than I do."

"A, I look for it. B, the dick I go for likes dick too. So, in the end, it's a gay thing."

"You suck."

"Yes. I do." He winks and blows me a kiss.

"I have to go. Since you're here, and on time at that, I can actually be on time for work at the shop today." I stick my tongue out and stash my apron under the counter.

"Tease! What are you doing tonight? We should hang out."

"Yeah. Okay. Text me. Love ya, Phillerup," I say as I make my way to the door.

"Love you, Audball."

I wave to him over my head as I make my exit and head out to my car. I put the top down, pull my hair back in a clip, and start the engine. I pull out of the parking lot and onto the orange flower lined streets of Las Vegas. Since I don't go into the garage 'til noon on Saturday's, I usually stop and grab Steve and I lunch. Today I've decided on subs and our usual round of Rockstars to get us through the afternoon.

I pull into the lot, park behind the gate, hop out and head in through the back door. I pass by Steve and straight into the office, only to poke my head out and yell, "Lunchtime, Boss!" which quickly gets his attention. He stops at the sink to wash his hands and comes in to take a seat behind his desk.

"Been busy this morning?" I ask as I unwrap my sandwich and take a huge bite.

"Yeah. I have a job I saved just for you."

"Thanks," I say as I take another bite of my sandwich. I didn't realize until now that I'm starving.

"Thank Travis. I think that boy loves you."

"Loves me like a sister. He just knows I'm the shit when it comes to fixing cars." I throw in a little head bob for theatrics.

"Well, whatever his motive, I owe that kid an oil change or something."

"That you'll make me do!" I give him the surprised, I'm not surprised look.

"No, smart ass. I'll do it."

"Great, I'll let him know and make sure he takes you up on it." I grin in my sassy way and finish my sandwich, then grab my shirt off the hook on my way to the sink. When I come back, I look on the desk at the work orders.

"So, which is the one you saved for me?"

"Um, Turner. Dodge Charger." My heart skips and I freeze for what I hope is an unnoticeable second.

"What's wrong with it?" I ask.

"It's got a knock." Another beat skipped. "Right up your alley."

"Yeah," I say under my breath. "I'll get right on it, Boss."

I grab the work order and the keys, then head outside to get the car so I can pull it into my bay. As I approach it, there's no doubt in my mind that this is the car I was afraid it was. Mr. Asshole's car.

"Travis sent this guy in?" I yell back to Steve.

"That's what the guy said. Why?"

"No reason." I look down at the work order again. "Layne Turner." I whisper the name to myself. Asshole has a name and he's friends with or, at least, knows a guy who's like a brother to me.

Shake it off, Audrey. A job is a job and I've never cared who owned any other car that I've worked on. I hop in the driver seat, start the engine and pull it into the bay. I'm going to treat this one like any other. I get out, turn up my radio, grab my gloves, and lift the hood. Let's see what we've got going on in here.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Almost five hours later, I set the work order back on Steve's desk. He looks up at me with that, so did you fix it? look on his face.

"Ye of little faith. I dropped the pan, tightened the bearings, changed the oil, and ran some fuel injector cleaner through it. It's perfect now, thanks to me. You can call the ass— um, I mean Mr. Turner and tell him it's ready to go."

"Are you okay? You're acting weird with this one. Is there something I should know?"

"Nope. Nothing to know." He quirks a knowing eye at me. "Fine! The asshat that owns that thing almost ran me off the road yesterday. Then, when I stopped for gas, he was at the gas station, catcalling me like an arrogant douche. So, I called out his engine issue having no idea that, of all the shops in Vegas, he'd pick yours." I roll my eyes. "And the worst part of all, he talked shit about the stang, well not exactly about the stang, but he tried to compare it to his car, as if they're even in the same class." I huff at the last part.

"He seemed like a nice guy to me and now he's a paying customer," Steve says with a shrug.

I can't take it anymore, so I turn and walk out of the office. I'm so happy I can blow this place for the rest of the weekend. But on my way out I turn to fire off one more line.

"Of course, he seemed like a nice guy to you. You have a dick! Later Steve!"

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I walk into the house and hear the sink in the kitchen running. Shit, Brandyn's home. I just want to take a shower, slip into my don't give a shit clothes, and veg. I try to be quiet and make it down the hall undetected, then close the door gently, but I don't quite make it before I hear Brandyn calling my name.

"Audrey! Is that you?"

For a second, I think that if I just hide behind the door in my room, maybe she'll think she was just hearing things. But the angel on my shoulder gives me the no-no finger and I answer her while rolling my eyes at my weakness.

"Yup! It's me. I'm just going to take a quick shower, okay?"

"No! Wait!" She comes running around the corner. "Before you disappear..." She knows my showers are never quick.

"Yes, dear?"

"I want you to go out with me tonight."

"Sorry, love, but no. I'm tired. I just want to relax tonight."

"Please, Audrey. I want you to come to Sass and Sins with me. There's a new band playing and Miles will be there too." She smiles. I've been wanting to meet this guy she's seeing, but tonight I'm just not feeling the social scene.

"Tonight? Really, I'm whipped. I'm not in the mood to be social." Please say okay and sidestep the guilt trip.

"Come on! When was the last time we went out together, Audrey? I really want you to meet him and for him to meet my best friend in the whole wide world." And with a bat of her fake eyelashes, there it is, the guilt trip I knew was coming. It's not her finest, but still.

"I'd love to meet him too and, eventually, I will. School's out next week you know? We can do something then. To celebrate."

"Audrey... come on. For me." She gives me those puppy dog eyes.

"Fine! I'll go." She won't stop until I concede. "Can I take my shower now?"

She bounces up and down in front of me, then hugs me like there's no tomorrow. I do love to see her so happy, even if it comes with a cost.

"Yes. I want to leave around eight-thirty."

"Okay." I walk towards my room.

"Love you, Audrey," she calls from behind me.

"Yeah, yeah," I say and, when I get to my door, I turn and blow her a kiss. "Love you too, B."

This is going to be a long, long night.

Layne

Miles and I get to the bar around eight fifteen so we can save a pool table while he waits impatiently for Brandyn to arrive. It's cool but odd to see Miles so twisted up over a woman. In all the time I've known him, he's never given any girl a second look, but it takes a special woman to entertain his intelligence and eccentric sense of humor. Honestly, I can't wait to meet the girl that has him so focused.

I walk over to the bar to get us both a beer and a couple bottles of water. I promised Miles I'd be his DD, but I know I can have a couple as long as I follow them with water and stop well before it's time to go. When I come back to the table, Miles has a game racked and ready to go.

"Grab your stick, man. We can warm up before the girls get here."

"Girls?" I finish screwing my stick together and grab the chalk.

"Oh yeah, Brandyn sent me a text saying that her roommate is coming too."

"I told you, no setups." I place the cue ball where I want it and lean in for the break. The balls move about the table and a striped one finds its home in the corner pocket. I start looking for my next shot.

"It's not, I swear. I just found out her friend is coming and Brandyn doesn't even know you. I doubt she'd set her friend up with a stranger."

"Fair enough." I move to my next target and take aim. I go for a bank shot and another ball falls into the side pocket.

"Good shot! Let me have at least one shot this game though, all right?" He laughs.

Miles plays a good game of pool, but knows that I play a better one. My parents had a table when I was growing up. Every time I got in trouble, I'd spend my time playing and perfecting my shots—becoming the pool master. When I started college, I played for money and, while other students were struggling to carry part time jobs and classes, a couple of games a week covered my necessities. I laugh now because my father used to tell me I was wasting my time playing. Work smarter, not harder. That's my motto.

I make my way around the table, sinking balls with every effort. As I'm taking aim and planning for the eight ball, I hear Miles talking.

"Hey babe! You're just in time to witness my first ass kicking of the night," Miles says as two figures walk toward us. I laugh because he hasn't even gotten a chance to shoot yet, let alone offer me an ass kicking.

"Well, don't worry, you'll spend the rest of the night kicking mine. I suck at pool," she laughs. "This is my best friend, Audrey."

I don't look up from my shot because I'm not really listening, but I presume I'm hearing Brandyn's voice and I'm not the least bit interested in meeting her friend. Even if I do plan on a one-night stand with someone, it won't be my best friend's girlfriend's best friend.

"Naw, I'll take it easy on you. I promise," he says and all I can think is—gag!

Just listening to this shit almost causes me to miss my shot. I reach into my front pocket and grab a twenty to stash in my back pocket for the cab ride home, because I may actually have to be drunk to endure this night. I stop listening to the conversation all together and line up my next shot. I'm not trying to be antisocial, but I'm not going for Mr. Congeniality either.

"You too, Miles. Brandyn's told me a lot about you." That voice. I know it. I warned Miles that I wasn't here for a setup and my frustration with the possible scenario causes me to miss my shot.

"Ha! You missed. My turn," Miles says as I pick up my beer and bring it to my mouth.

As I lower my bottle, I come eye to eye with the thief of my concentration. There's something about her that is strangely familiar and I can't take my eyes away. It's right on the tip of my tongue and, as I follow the length of her body toward the floor, it comes to me in a flash. Cowboy boots. She's the girl from the gas station yesterday. I can't believe it's her but, she's looking at me with disgusted surprise. In a city this big, what are the chances I'd run into her again? That she'd be my best friend's, girlfriend's, best friend?

Miles hands Brandyn a twenty and tells her to go get her and her friend a drink. When the girls are out of earshot, I catch Miles.

"That's the girl!"

"What girl?" He looks around.

"Your girlfriend's friend. That's the girl I told you about yesterday. The girl from the gas station."

"Really? I'd say the forces are trying to bring you together." He pats me on my shoulder and I shake my head. I'm generally not a believer in fate, but what other explanation can there be?

The girls come back and lay claim on the table by the wall about the same time that our buddy Travis comes walking through the back door. He looks around, then his eyes stop on the table where Brandyn and the mystery girl are standing.

"Well, look who's here!" Travis says as he gets closer to the table. I look up to see the mystery girl walk over to him and jump into his arms. He hugs her as he spins her around, then sets her down and kisses her neck. A small part of me is relieved to see that she's obviously with him, one of my best friends, but another part of me is jealous because I never had a chance.

"I didn't know you'd be here! Brandyn dragged me here kicking and screaming, but the night is looking up."

She didn't know he'd be here? Maybe I'm reading this wrong. Maybe they're not a couple.

"You got a drink, doll?" Travis asks her and I hate the fact that he's calling her by a pet name. What was her real name again? I know I heard Miles' girlfriend say it but I wasn't paying attention.

"Yeah. I'm good. Miles bought our first round, but, bet your ass, I'll do a shot with you later."

"There's my party girl! I'll be right back." Travis walks off towards the bar but stops when he sees me.

"How's it going, buddy?" Travis steps up to shake my hand and pulls me in for a hug dragging my eyes away from the beauty in boots.

"It's going good. I got a call from the shop and the beast is all fixed and ready to pick up Monday morning. Thanks for the referral."

"Steve's a great guy but the real talent is my friend, the one I told you about. No doubt she's the one that worked on your car. She's actually here tonight, do you want to meet her? She can fill you in on what had to be done."

His friend is a her?

"I'd love to meet her," I'm not sexist, but knowing a chic worked on my car has the rooster in me curios as hell. "But no talking shop tonight." I look around the room, figuring that the manliest looking woman I'll find is his friend. But when Travis calls her name—Audrey—and I see whose head turns to look in our direction, I realize just who she is. Her lips curl into a smile as she looks at Travis, but as soon as her eyes meet mine, the smile disappears completely. She's not only Brandyn's friend, she's Travis' friend too, also known as Mustang Sally, and she's looking at me with daggers in her eyes. It's obvious she's pissed off by my presence. So why is it I just want to make her smile at me? Since when do I care if a girl looks at me like she is?

"Your turn, Layne," Miles says and pull my eyes from hers.

I step away from Travis and grab my que. I need a moment to try and gain some composure. It's no big deal, Layne. Just focus. But I feel her eyes on me and I miss my shot, again.

Miles steps back up and, shot after shot, empties the table. He's finally shooting at the eight and there's no doubt he's got this. I'm no longer needed at the table, so I move a little closer to where Audrey now stands alone. As I approach her, I raise my hands in surrender. But her eyes burn into me, watching my every move and I'm sure she's not buying it at all. I scoot in beside her where she leans against the wall.

"I guess that I'm sorry would be a good place to start."

"That it would. But don't think that because we have mutual friends and our besties are dating we have to like each other. I won't make things hard for them, but that doesn't mean I have to make it easy for you."

I look down at her as she motions to the pool table Miles and I were using. "Looks like you lost your game, Mr. Turner." Then she pushes off the wall and calls to Miles, "I call next game." She walks towards the table and leaves me standing there alone, wondering what I'm going to have to do to win her over.

"Right on!" Miles says. "Rack'em up."

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Throughout the night I've been watching her and, if I hadn't stopped drinking two hours ago, I might refer to myself as a creeper. Hell, I still might. She has a confidence that magnifies her beauty, and a fire that heats the entire room. She makes it impossible for me to take my eyes off of her. She, however, hasn't looked my way even once, and God, do I want her to!

I don't know what it is about her that has made her nearly impossible to forget. I don't fall for girls. I don't think about them any longer than it takes them to get dressed and leave after a couple hours of hot sex. I don't watch on and obsess about what it would be like to kiss their lips, touch their skin, and feel the weight of their body against mine as the sun comes up. But the fact that I didn't do any of those things before, does nothing to keep me from watching her and thinking about every single one of them right now.

The band starts playing and drowns out the sound of her laughter as she and Travis stand together on the other side of the pool table. I've counted at least four rounds of shots, which made the smile on her face harder for her to hide. But it made me more jealous every time she'd fall against Travis in a fit of laughter over something he said. They may not be together, but they're close and I find myself wanting to be that close to her. He grabs her hand to lead her to the dance floor and they fall into a routine that appears rehearsed. I need to know the story between the two of them; it's obvious there's history.

I look away, because I can't take it anymore but, as I turn, I'm faced with a sight that's no better— Miles and Brandyn with their tongues down each other's throats. Everyone around me is coupling up and I'm suddenly the third leg in every situation. I've had about enough of this night; my buzz wore off at least an hour ago and, along with it, my tolerance for watching what's happening around me. I start toward Miles to tell him that, if he plans on riding home with me, I'm leaving; and if not, he'll have to find his own way. As I approach, he turns my way and smiles.

"What's up, Layne?" His pronunciation of my name drags because he's a little buzzed.

"I'm done and I'm going home. You coming?"

"What? It's only," he looks at his watch and then back up at me, "eleven forty-five."

"I don't care what time it is. I'm done. You can stay if you want, you'll just have to take a cab home."

"I can take you home, Miles," Brandyn chimes in with a giggle that tells me I may be seeing her for coffee in the morning.

"Problem solved. I'll see you tomorrow," I say to Miles, then turn to Brandyn. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too, Layne. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again."

"I'm sure you will," I say to her, then give Miles a sideways glance. "Later man."

I look back at Audrey once more and see that she's still on the dance floor, swaying with her eyes closed and mouthing the words to the chorus of the song. Travis is still serving as her dance partner but is losing the battle with his balance and stumbles more than sways. Before I'll allow myself to wish I was taking his place, I turn and walk toward the door.

As I near my car, I pull my keys from my pocket. The door to the bar opens, spilling music into the night, and familiar voices approach me. I look over to see Miles, who was giving me shit about leaving just a few minutes ago, and Brandyn.

"What are you doing?" I ask him irritated.

"We decided to bail too. I guess you could say we have better things to do." Brandyn giggles and he moves in for a kiss.

"Yeah, okay. Spare me the details." I hit the button on the keys to unlock the car and it hits me, "What about your friend, Audrey? Didn't you guys come together?"

"Oh, she's good. Travis will give her a ride home." She waves it off as though there's no problem, but she obviously hasn't seen Travis lately.

There's no way in hell he can drive her home, he can't drive himself home. In an instant, I make a decision. "Okay. You guys have a good night then."

"Undoubtedly," Miles answers as they approach what I assume to be Brandyn's car. The car chirps as the doors unlock and Miles climbs in the passenger side, then the engine comes to life and she backs out of the driveway.

I hang out in the parking lot until the tail lights disappear around the corner, then I head back inside. My eyes dart around the room, looking for Travis and Audrey, and when I spot them, I'm not at all surprised by what I see. They're sitting in a booth, Audrey with a cigarette in her hand and Travis basically passed out next to her—his head tipped back against the wall.

I start toward her, not really sure what I'm going to say. She hates me, which I find extreme given that I've apologized for my asshole behavior. But it didn't change a thing; she's already decided she's going to continue hating me. Well, tonight she'll just have to set those feelings aside, at least until she's home safe.

Layne

"Audrey?"

She takes another drag of her cigarette then flicks off the ash and looks up at me.

"Mr. Turner. Mr. Almost Run Me Off The Road, Mr. Cat-Call Me And Underestimate Me Because I'm A Girl. To what do I owe your visit now?" she says complete with sarcasm and topped with an eye roll.

This may be how she really feels about me right now, but it's the alcohol talking. She's trying to be tough, to show me that she's not just some weak, beautiful girl and I understand. My behavior was ridiculous; it usually is, but I'm not always that guy and I want her to see that.

"Well, our friends left and I was told that Travis was taking you home, but that looks a little impossible." We both look at him and he's nearly snoring and drooling as he sits passed out.

"So, you're here to be my knight in shining armor? Thanks, but no thanks. We'll take a cab." This woman has got to be one of the most stubborn women I've ever met, but she makes me want to step up for the challenge.

"Look, you need to get over yourself. I'm here to give you and Travis a ride home. If you want to take a cab, be my guest." I walk over to Travis and start tapping him on his cheeks. "Trav, wake up, man. I'm your ride home."

"Layne, buddy. I can't drive," he says melodically.

"I know, but don't worry, your chauffeur is here." I give Audrey a sideways glance. I can see the fire in her drunken eyes but I couldn't care less. She can hate me, but she'll be doing it alive and safe in her bed.

Once Travis agreed I was giving him a ride home, she decided to go along with the plan, but I could tell she didn't like it. Dropping Travis off was easy. I've passed out at his house more times than I can remember. On the way to his house, he went on and on about how good of a friend I was and how he had too much to drink. Audrey sat in the backseat laughing hysterically at everything he said, enough that I wanted to think maybe she was starting to drop her bitch act toward me, but she soon put me back in my place.

She doesn't bother to move from the back seat once Travis exits the car, so I watch her in reverse image through the rearview mirror. We leave Travis' and I ask her where she lives, but little help she is. The laughter that filled the car just moments ago has stopped and the vicious, snarling beauty wearing cowboy boots has returned.

"So, where to?" I ask her, catching her reflection.

"That's none of your business Mr. Turner. I can get myself home, I don't need your help," she retorts with slurred speech.

"But you're already in the car and I'm offering." I bring my eyes to the road awaiting the smart assed comment that is, no doubt, about to be made but, by the time I look back at her, her head is slumped to the side and her eyes have fallen shut. I call her name a couple times but get nothing. She's out cold.

Now what do I do? I have no idea where she lives and calling Miles to ask his girlfriend doesn't sound appealing. I do the only thing I can: I take her home with me.

As I carry her into the house, a string of grumbles erupt from her unconscious mouth. None of it is coherent and she's not fighting me, so I continue to my room and lay her on my bed. Her eyes remain closed. Realizing that she is completely down for the count, I remove her boots, and pull the comforter up to cover her body. Almost instantly, upon feeling the weight and warmth of the blanket, she turns to her side and pulls it close. Within seconds I hear her snores.

I watch her for a couple minutes, admiring how peaceful she looks and wishing she could look like this when she looks at me. I fight back the urge to touch her, to see if she feels as soft and perfect as her porcelain skin looks. But no matter how much I want to, I don't because if she were to choose that very moment to wake up, there's no telling how the situation would be construed.

What is it about her, this girl, that makes me want to prove I can be someone other than the stupid man with a big mouth that made the worst first impression ever? Why do I want to be someone she can fall for?

Audrey

I wake up in the morning with the sun shining on my face and what feels like a freight train parked on my head. Neither one of them are welcome and I keep my eyes closed in protest of both. I rarely go out for this very reason. When I'm out with my friends, my good judgment sits hiding in the corner and the lush in me runs the show. Social drinking is fun at the time, but an awful the next day, especially when Travis and shots are involved.

I turn, bury my face in the pillow and will myself to go back to sleep. It's a complete waste of a rare day off, but at least I have the option today. Of course, sleep will evade me because all I can focus on is the thumping in my head. Maybe a glass of water and a couple ibuprofen will dull the pain enough for me to sleep a little longer.

I push myself up and sit there for a minute with my eyes closed while my body accepts the notion of verticalness. Then I push up to ease off the bed and my feet meet plush carpeted floor. I tap it with my toes a few times to make sure I haven't completely lost my mind to the pain that's taken up residence there. No, there's something very wrong with this picture. I don't have carpet. This is not my room.

I open my eyes slowly and take in my surroundings. I had somehow expected that if I didn't wake up at home, I'd wake up at Travis', but this is not his room either. I turn to look at the other side of the bed, find it empty and let out a breath of relief; it doesn't appear that I've done anything completely idiotic.

I allow my eyes to survey the room. Posters of airplanes and bands hang on the walls. And a closet door left open reveals T-shirts and blue jeans hanging in perfect sections, a snowboard on the floor, and two Red Sox baseball hats sitting on the top shelf. Being that I love Boston, his hats tell me this guy can't be too bad. The alarm clock on the nightstand says it's a quarter of ten and beside it sits a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol. I have no idea how much I drank last night and I don't remember getting here, wherever here is, but I'm really not too surprised. I had a lot to drink and I'm going to kick Travis' ass when I see him.

I reach for the bottle of pills and, after a few seconds of fighting the child-proof lid with weak and shaky hands, I manage to get it open and pour two into my hand. They look legit, so I grab the glass of water, pop them into my mouth, and wash them down. I sit for a few minutes, not really wanting to move, but curious as to where I am, who brought me here, and how I'm going to get home. I try to stand again and that's when the instant urge to puke hits me. I quickly look around for a trash can or anything I can use. Then through a cracked door I see tile floor and hope to God it's a bathroom. I run for it and my prayer is answered just in the nick of time.

I'm taking deep breaths and looking at my reflection in the mirror as the color returns to my cheeks. It's plain to see that I look as bad as I feel. My eyeliner and mascara have created dark smudges surrounding my eyes but, funny enough, my Color Stay lipstick has, in fact, stayed and is working overtime. I help myself to a washcloth hanging on the towel rack by the sink to clean up and, though the thought of it threatens to make me hurl again, I spy a bottle of Listerine and pour some in my mouth to wash out the taste of vomit and stale cigarette. I quit smoking years ago, but every time I get drunk, I smoke, even knowing that it will disgust me the next day. When I emerge from the bathroom, I actually feel a little better, but know the feeling won't last. I need to get home.

I find my boots sitting next to the foot of the bed and sit to pull them on. When I stand up, I'm feeling a little woozy again, but I take a couple of breaths and push forward. I open the bedroom door and walk down the hallway, which I hope leads to the common area. About halfway down, I hear a television and follow its sound until I find myself in the living room and face to face with the root of all my anger and fantasies for the last two days. Mr. Asshole, also known as one Mr. Layne Turner.

Layne

I'm on the couch watching the Red Sox play the Yankees when I feel her enter the room and the only thought that comes to mind is: is it even possible for her to look so beautiful with a hangover? But she just stands there staring at me, her uncomfortable surprise plain to see.

"Good morning, Audrey. How are you feeling? Did you get the Tylenol I left on the nightstand?"

"I'm fine and yes, I did. Why am I here?" She asks with that sass I've come to think of as charming.

I stand up and walk toward the kitchen leaving my back to her, but talking as I go. "Well, you weren't very cooperative last night when it came to telling me where you lived so I could take you home. You went on to tell me that it was none of my business and that you could get there yourself." I turn to see her frozen in place and trying to recall the conversation I'm recapping for her. "Come on, let's get you something to eat. I won't bite, I promise." Oh, but I'd love to.

"So, you brought me here? You could've left me at Travis'," she says sarcastically.

"Well, no one mentioned that option last night. You were both pretty tossed."

"We didn't, you know... did we?" she asks shaking her head as if my affirming her suggestion could be the worst thing ever. So, she thinks we had sex. I'd love to say yes just to mess with her, but I think that would be a horrible idea. I'm trying to score points, not dig the existing hole deeper.

"No, we didn't. I know you don't think very highly of me, but that's not my style. I put you in my bed and I slept on the couch. Here," I open a box of donuts and hold it out to her. "you need something in your stomach."

"Thanks, but I'm fine. What I need is to get home."

"First eat. Would you like some juice?" I open the refrigerator to see what I have to offer. "I've got apple and orange."

"You're very pushy Mr. Ass—Mr. Turner."

I chuckle as I take both bottles from the fridge and place them on the island that separates us, then I pull a glass from the cabinet. Was she about to call me Mr. Asshole? I've been called an asshole more times than I can count, but never Mr. Asshole.

"Enough with the formalities. It's Layne."

"I know your name." There's that attitude again. It's no wonder she likes to hang out at Sass and Sins, the place was practically named for her.

"Well, you should. Apparently, you're the genius mechanic that fixed my car." I say plainly.

"Travis told you, didn't he? I'm going to fucking kill him!" She shoves the donut in her mouth, obviously an emotional eater.

"No need, I would've found out eventually. After all, it was you that called out the problem to begin with." And I don't know why, but that was the wrong thing to say. She starts her attack with donut still in her mouth.

"Which was more of a favor than I should've done for you given your sexist attitude toward me. Do you really think of girls like that? Did you really think that I would just become all googly eyed and beg to be the next wham bam thank you ma'am bimbo in your bed because you commented on my ass? News for you, _Layne,_ I pity the girls that do fall for that, because even they deserve better than you, they just don't know it yet." She turns to leave but only gets a few paces away before she doubles back to snag another donut. "Thanks for breakfast." Then she turns and leaves the room. A few seconds after I lose sight of her, I hear the front door slam.

I stand there for a minute trying to figure out what the hell just happened. And better yet, what part of all of that caused my hard on? I'm not usually the sadistic type, well maybe just a little, but every word that came out of her mouth and how she said it had me wanting to throw her on the counter and fuck all the hatred she has for me right out of her. This girl, who I've had only two, now three, encounters with somehow owns me and I just want more of her. So much that I grab Miles keys off the counter and run out the door to find her.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I catch up to her at the end of the block and pull up alongside her. She glances over and her expression quickly turns to a glare followed by an eye roll before she turns back to look forward.

"Would you like me to give you a ride?" I ask out the window and she ignores me. Okay, two can play this damn game. "Audrey, stop being so damn stubborn and sassy and get in the damn car! I'm just offering you a ride home."

She stops and looks, no, glares at me with fire in her eyes. "Fuck. Off." Then resumes her course.

I gun it just enough so I can get in front of her to cut her off, then put the car in park and get out. I walk around the front of the car and open the passenger side door, standing so that she can't move around me. She stops, but says nothing. She just stares.

"You can stare me into hell all you want with those flamethrowers you call eyes, but I told you last night and I promised Travis I'd get you home. So, if for no other reason than to help me carry out a promise I made to a very good friend, get in the damn car. You never have to see me again, hell, at this point, I think that might be best for both of us. Now please..." I motion to the passenger seat.

The fire in her eyes dims as exhaustion and defeat take its place. She closes the distance and slides into the car. I shut the door, thankful for whatever I said to make her change her mind, unless it was the lie in my little speech that clinched the win. I have no intention of this being the last time I see her.

Audrey

I sit in silence as Layne drives me home. The only communication I offer is giving him directions. Thankfully, he doesn't attempt to make conversation either, because I just don't think I can do it right now. My stomach is starting to churn again and the only thoughts that fill my mind are getting home and falling back into bed—my bed.

He pulls into the driveway of my house and I don't even bother thanking him for the ride before throwing the door open and stepping out, but I do think twice before slamming it shut. A quiet exit is all the gratitude he's going to get from this girl today, maybe ever.

Never looking back, I dig my keys out of my small purse as I make my way to the front door. It's not until I have the front door open that I hear his car back out of the driveway. I stand there listening until I can no longer hear the purr of the engine, then enter the house and close the door putting the entire experience behind me.

I'm met by an empty room and dead silence, so I figure that either Brandyn is still in bed or never came home. And then it hits me that her car was in the driveway. What if she's here with Miles? I don't care and don't want to think right now because it makes my head hurt. I bring my hand to my head. Whatever, I'm not particularly in the mood for conversation anyway, so I go to the kitchen, dumping my purse on the counter, and head straight for the cabinet to get a glass. I fill it with cranberry juice and grab a bottle of water, then head to my room and shut the door behind me.

Of course, Bessie is sprawled in the middle of my bed when I enter the room. She's quick to jump up when she sees me and meets me as I place my glass on the nightstand and sit down ready to go back to bed.

"Hey, Bes. Mom's not feeling so hot, so we're going to take a nap, okay?"

She uses her head to lift my hand, then pushes her head underneath, giving me no other option but to pet her. I do for a minute or so before I stop to get myself ready to settle into bed. I pull the trash can from beneath my desk and set it at my bedside, then I open my nightstand drawer to take out three bottles—vitamin B, Rolaids, and ibuprofen. This isn't my first rodeo. I dump the appropriate amounts of each in my hand, then pick up my glass and wash them down. Finally, I pull back my covers and climb under and, in this moment, I can't imagine anything could be better than this. The feel of the cool sheets to settle my stomach, a soft pillow to comfort my aching head, and the best yet, no Layne Asshole Turner.

Of course, after my unplanned abandonment last night, Bessie is nowhere near satisfied and feels that she deserves a little more attention. She wedges her head under my hand insisting that I pet her just a little longer and I mindlessly give into her request. The softness of her fur, the repetitive motion of my strokes, and the sound of her purrs serve as a lullaby and quickly send me off to sleep.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wake to the ringing of my phone on my nightstand. I try to ignore it, pulling my pillow over to cover my ears and am pleased when it stops. But that pleasure is short-lived when seconds later it starts again. There are only two people I know who would be so persistent and, unfortunately, will continue until I answer the damn thing. I reach over to grab the phone and, after a quick glance at the screen, I answer.

"Good morning, Tiffany." A painful sigh escapes my lips as the light assaults my eyes.

"Morning! Audrey, it's almost four! Where the hell are you?" I pull the phone from my ear to look at the screen again and confirm that it is, in fact, twenty til' four. I can't believe I slept my entire day away.

"Sorry, I was out late last night. I came home and went back to bed."

"Came home? From where, little sister? Were you a naughty girl last night?" She asks mockingly.

"You're crazy and asking me that is just weird but no, I was not naughty. I was just out with friends." The _Layne_ part of my night is insignificant, so I don't bother to mention it, but I can't say that I was out with Travis either, because that's another touchy situation with her.

My sister and Travis used to be a thing, a pretty big thing; that's how I met him. The two of them were two years ahead of me in school and were inseparable for almost three years. I grew to see Travis as a big brother and I never thought they'd ever break up, but they did break up and it was messy. I still don't understand exactly what happened, and I'm not sure Travis does either, but she's never spoken about it, or him, again. I guess I'm kind of a traitor because I refused to cut off my relationship with him just because they broke up. She knows we're still friends; we just don't talk about it.

"Uh huh. Okay well, you didn't forget about dinner tonight, did you? Mom sent me to the store with a list and is making a rare appearance in the kitchen. I do believe I smell your favorite dish cooking."

With just the mention of it my mouth is watering.

"Really?" I ask excitedly. I hope she's right, because that means mom's making shrimp and asparagus risotto, my absolute favorite.

"She's kicked me out of the kitchen, saying that she wanted to do it all by herself. It's been a long time since she's cooked for us." I can hear the bitter sweetness in her voice as she says those words. Mom always had bouts with mental health but, after dad died it was like a trigger had been pulled and she checked out. It's been hard for all of us and it's rare we see the side of her that existed before then.

"I wouldn't miss it for anything. I'll be there in an hour. I just need to shower."

"Okay, see you in a bit."

With my work and school schedule, I don't spend as much time with my mom and sister as I'd like to, but every day off I have, I have dinner with them. Most of the time Tiffany cooks or I show up with takeout, but Mom cooking is a big deal and we get to feel, if only for tonight, like we have her back.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I pull up to the house just under an hour later and, as I enter, I'm accosted by the smells of home cooking. My sister's dog, George, is the first to greet me and gives me a thorough sniff down, no doubt sensing Bessie's presence on my clothes.

"Hi Georgie! Where's your momma?" I scratch him behind his ears and then call into the house for Mom and Tiffany. "Tiff! Mom! I'm here!"

"I'm in here, dear," my mom calls from the dining room. "Dinners ready! Will you pick a wine please?"

Wine is nowhere near my list of wants right now, but if Mom wants wine, wine we will have. I walk into the dining room as mom is heading back to the kitchen, and I go straight over to the wine cooler to choose a bottle. My mom would choose a Chardonnay, but I'm not a fan of it or of most whites, for that matter. Knowing she'll protest a red at all costs, I settle on a Sauvignon Blanc and remove the cork.

My mother enters with a dish and sets it in the center of one end of the table, then circles to come up behind me. She wraps her arms around me from behind and squeezes as she places a kiss on the side of my head. I lean in, enjoying the feeling of old times and wishing it was always like this. She spies the bottle I've chosen and hums with approval.

"Sauvignon Blanc? Good choice, though a Chardonnay would have been good too."

"I know, I just wanted something a little different. Hey, it's white. That's got to account for something?"

"It's a fine choice. Let's eat. Tiffany!"

My sister enters the room and settles in across from me while Mom takes her seat at the head of the table. We dish our plates and I grab the biggest piece of garlic bread from the bowl. I was always a sucker for the bread. There's a moment of silence while we all take our first bites and I remember just how much I love this stuff.

"This is amazing, Mom," I say with a half full mouth.

"Thank you. It's been a while and I thought you were due for a fix."

I answer by taking another bite and rolling my eyes towards the back of my head. It's just that damn delicious.

"Do you remember how devastated you were when Olive Garden stopped serving this? You wouldn't stop until you found a recipe and I learned how to make it just for you."

"I remember. Don't tell Olive Garden, but I'm glad they stopped serving it, because yours is much better."

"Lots of practice. You asked for it at least once a month," she laughs. It's such a beautiful sound. "Along with crab, lobster, and clams. How you ever became so fond of seafood, I'll never know."

"It's that East Coast blood running through my veins." I smile a cheesy grin. She knows I love the East Coast but, stupid me, I forget that saying anything about him at all could ruin everything. She immediately starts to spiral.

"Maybe," she nods. "Your father loved seafood too." She lowers her head and I can see a sudden end coming to this evening. Tiffany kicks me from under the table. I grasp at anything to bring Mom back to this moment, to keep her happy just a while longer.

"You know what I'd like, Mom?" I don't give her time to answer. "I think after dinner we should watch a movie. Something with Audrey in it."

She looks up and the light comes back to her eyes at the mention of Audrey Hepburn, who I am obviously named after.

"It's been so long since we've watched Audrey together." She turns to my sister, "Tiffany," Do you see the pattern here? "Will you watch with us?" There's no way she'll say no.

"Of course, Mom. I wouldn't miss Audrey time for anything."

Mom smiles at Tiffany, then me, then takes a sip of her wine and continues to eat her dinner. Tiffany smiles at me, thankful that I was able to save the night using the power only a woman named Audrey has.

Layne

Miles comes home wearing a smile on his face that only a man who's gotten sex multiple times in less than twenty-four hours can achieve. He didn't offer any details and I didn't ask for many, but there was one question I did ask.

"So, did you see Audrey at all today?"

"No. She was sleeping when Brandyn and I finally got up. Why? You like her, don't you?"

"What? I don't even know her." I try to play it off but get that look that says, _Oh yeah? Then why do you care so much?_ "Fine! I'm intrigued by her and feel like a total ass for how I treated her the first time we met."

"You never did tell me that whole story. All you said was that you ran into some sassy hot chick at the gas station, you didn't tell me you made an ass out of yourself in front of her. This I must hear, you want a beer?"

"Sure." He comes back with two beers and we sit down on the couch. I recall for him the day at the gas station and conclude with last night's and this morning's events.

"No wonder she fucking hates you! Damn, I think I like her. Layne Turner has met his match. A girl that doesn't drop to her knees for you." His laughter fills the room.

"Shut up! Girls don't drop to their knees for me."

"No, but their pants do. Face it, you're used to getting _whoever_ you want, the beauty of your sick escapades being that they only stick around long enough for you to get _what_ you want. But, I'm sensing that you want a little more than a one-night stand this time and you are the one being rejected."

"I don't know what or if I really want _anything_ with her, but I can't deal with the fact that she _hates_ me. Like if looks could kill I'd be dead, hates me. Something inside me wants to make it right." That same something inside me wants me to be the one that makes her smile the way she smiles at Travis.

"I'll talk to Brandyn and see if she can pass on any advice. But you fucked this up and you're going to fix it."

"As soon as I figure out how, I will."

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday morning, I wake up tired and feeling like I didn't catch a wink of sleep all night. Knowing that Audrey slept in my bed the night before made it hard for sleep to come and loops of yesterday and the night before kept playing through my mind. The way she laughed and smiled with Travis, but how the sight of me instantly took that away. Maybe there was some truth to what I said to her about never having to see me again, that it could be what's best for both of us. But when do I ever want what's best? We want what we want and I lost an entire night's sleep to wanting her.

I need to pick up my car and get some work done on the flight simulation program I'm developing. I need to have it ready to present to the FAA in five weeks. It's basically done but it has to be perfect—there's no room for error. I jump out of bed and pull on a pair of sweatpants and T-shirt, then pull a hat out of the closet to cover my uncombed hair; I'll shower after I get back.

I hit the clicker on my keychain to open the garage and pull my bicycle off the rack on the wall. Once I've cleared the door, hit the clicker again to close it and I'm off.

As I pull up to the shop, I'm disappointed by the absence of a certain teal blue Mustang. Not that I know yet what to say to her or how to fix the damage that I've done, but it would be nice to see the angel that turns into a devil while in my presence.

I lean my bike against the wall and walk through the open bay door to find Steve leaning under the hood of an older model Ford truck.

"Steve," I say to get his attention and he looks up from under the hood.

"Dodge Charger, right? I don't remember names, but I remember cars," He says and I laugh, somehow understanding what he says.

"Yes, sir. I'm here to pick her up. How bad was it?"

"Not too bad, mostly labor. You had some lose bearings, but Audrey got them handled, then went through and did an oil change and dropped in some fuel injector cleaner. Purrs like a kitten now."

"Wow. She really is something, isn't she?"

"She is, and son, it ain't none of my business, but I think she thinks you're something too—just not so much the _wow_ kind, if you know what I mean."

I lower my head, knowing that she must have told him something for this to come up.

"I made a pretty bad first impression and she's not making it easy for me to fix it or forget it."

"That girl is like a daughter to me. True, she's a spitfire and ornery as a bull sometimes, but that's what makes her _her_. Whatever it takes kid, it's worth fixing." It would appear that I might actually have someone in my corner.

Audrey

I set my pencil down and let out an exasperated breath. Finals are officially done and I'm one year closer to graduation. For the next two and a half months all I have is work and the summer classes I signed up for. I'll be able to work a little more and maybe even have a little time to play. I stand from my table and walk my test booklet to the front of the room, dropping it in the basket which sits in front of my professor. Despite the attitude I tend to have with the rest of the world, I've always gotten along with my teachers. I'm a good student, I pay attention, and we have a mutual appreciation for what each of us is there to accomplish.

He offers me a smile and I give him one in return. I already checked the course list for next semester and know that we'll be working together again. As I leave his desk, I whisper _see you next year_. Once I've cleared the door I pull my phone out of my back pocket and start a group text to Phillip and Brandyn.

Me: PARTY TIME!

Phillip: Gay bar or straight bar?

Me: Gay bar

Brandyn: I second that!

Phillip: YES! Pick me up at ten bitches

I don't want any complications tonight. I just want to let loose, have fun, and celebrate my temporary freedom. Gay men might be untouchable for a straight girl like me, but that's the beauty of going to a place full of men I can't have. They're nice to look at and I don't need romantic issues. I don't need a man who frustrates me as much as he turns me on. Specifically, I don't need the man that has managed to invade my thoughts at least a dozen times a day for the last two weeks. I need safe, and gay men are safe. Layne Turner on the other hand, is not safe at all.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We walk into Fusion and the place is packed with beautiful topless men. The music is thumping and I can't help but move with the beat. There's not a more carefree place for a straight girl to let her hair down and dance. Phillip leads us through the bodies and I raise my arms over my head and dance my way through appreciating the fact that not one of them has ogled me or given my cleavage a second look. This is exactly what I needed.

For hours we dance, drink purple concoctions that I've limited to three because they taste so good you just know they'll cause a wicked hangover, and get to be stage front while they host the Steel Buns contest, which Brandyn and I enjoy as much as the men. Phillip disappears a couple times, for more than a couple of minutes, for what I can only assume was getting or giving a blowjob in the back hall. And he has his eyes on another prospect right now.

"You're a whore!" I yell over the music. Brandyn giggles but never stops dancing.

"You're jealous! Ha! This is a dick joint, not a tit joint!"

I laugh, but there's truth to his words. I didn't come here to find anyone, but sometimes I do wish I had someone. I look at my watch to see that it's almost three in the morning and decide I should see my way out. I'm a little tipsy and feeling butt hurt because I don't have what I say I don't want.

"You ready?" I ask Brandyn and, thankfully, she replies with a nod. I lean into Phillip's ear, "It's almost three, we're all partied out and I have to work at noon. You coming or staying?"

"Hopefully coming, at least once more tonight."

I smirk at him and roll my eyes. "Be safe," I say as I pull him in for a hug. Then I grab Brandyn's arm and head for the exit.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stroll into Steve's with our usual sandwiches and Rockstar's, happier than hell that I cut myself off of the yummy purple drinks when I did. For only six hours of sleep, I'm feeling pretty good. Steve is talking with a customer, so I go straight into the office and immediately stop in my tracks. There's a vase sitting on his desk and a quick count tells me it's holding at least two dozen roses, half red and half white. Now, something tells me that these didn't come for Steve so, assuming they are for me, who in hell would send _me_ roses?

I'm still standing frozen when Steve comes up behind me. "Those came for you a little while ago."

"Any idea who they're from?"

"Nope, and there's only one way to find out."

"How?" I'm still trying to wrap my head around this. Who? Why?

"Read the note," he says mockingly. "Unless you'd like me to read it for you?"

"No, I got it." I don't move, I just stand there staring at them—admiring them. No one has ever sent me roses before.

"Okay, well, while you stand there trying to remember how to function, can I have my sandwich?"

Only having caught the last part of what he said, I hold out the bag to him, my eyes still locked on the beautiful bouquet.

I take a step closer and see my name on the card; yup they're for me alright. I reach for it and I can't help but lean in to smell the fragrance that fills the small office. I flip the tiny card over and open the envelope to pull out the card.

I know I'm three strikes in, but can I please have a do-over? Have dinner with me. Layne

At the end of the note he included his phone number. My heart starts beating fast and I suck in a breath. I haven't heard from him or seen him in two weeks, then this. I have no idea what I'm going to do. My behavior grabs Steve's attention mid-bite.

"Audrey? Is everything okay?" he asks around a mouthful of sandwich, looking as though he could move in a flash to catch me if I fell.

I nod my head and quickly compose myself so that I won't have to explain. "Um, yeah. Everything's just fine," I lie. I'm anything but fine right now, and what's worse is that I'm not sure exactly _what_ I am.

"So... who are they from? A secret admirer?" he teases me.

"Something like that." I pause and realize that I'm actually not very hungry anymore. "You know what? I had a late breakfast and I'm really not hungry right now. I'm going to go ahead and get to work. What's next?"

He's not convinced but he's a smart man and he's not going to challenge me. He hands me a work order. "Here you go, clutch job. Piece of cake."

Looking over once more at the roses, I nod and leave the room.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The entire drive home, the red and white bouquet, which I secured in the passenger seatbelt, constantly catches my eye and the words on the note play through my mind. Should I give him another chance? Why would he even want one? Is it actually even a second chance considering I never really gave him a first? I don't want a relationship and I won't be dependent on anyone but myself. I watched my mother's already fragile walls come crashing down when my dad died because she was completely dependent on him. But there are times when I don't want to be alone either, when I think having someone to spend time with and share new experiences with could be nice. Bottom line, I still have no idea what I'm going to do.

I walk in the house just before six, flowers in hand, and go straight for the kitchen. Brandyn stands in front of the stove and I have no idea what she's cooking but it smells delicious and it's reminding me that I skipped lunch. She has her earbuds in and hasn't noticed I'm here yet but, when I set the flowers on the counter, the clank of the glass on the granite gets her attention.

"Hey you! Oh my, those are beautiful. Who are they from?"

I know I'll have to tell her eventually, which with her digging will end up being soon, but I need a little more time to come to terms with it myself. The five and a half hours I spent on that clutch job, which I still have to finish in the morning, wasn't long enough.

"What's for dinner? I missed lunch and I'm starving." I go for the fridge, where I know I have an IPA or three, and a shot calling my name.

"Tacos, and stop ignoring my question. Who are the roses from? They're amazing."

I unscrew a mini bottle of Goldschlager and drink it down, then snag the bottle opener off the fridge to pop the cap off a bottle of IPA. I tip it back and chug a third of it in one swig. I'm met by her expectant eyes and finally take a breath.

"They're from Layne."

Her eyes go wide with surprise, but it's a happy kind of surprise. "Layne, as in Miles' best friend, Layne?" Oh no, she's already planning our first double date!

"That's the one."

"I didn't—"

I cut her off before she lets her imagination run too far away. I can just see her getting all giddy over us dating best friends. "There's nothing to know. So far, every chance encounter we've had has ended in curse words, mostly spoken by me, and I don't know what would possess him to send me anything, let alone roses." It's not just a line I'm using to get my best friend to leave the subject alone—I really don't know.

"Okay then," She's disappointed but, being Brandyn, she tries to find light in the situation. "Well, no matter why, at least they give us something pretty to look at." Good, she's dropping it for now, but I know that smile; she'll be asking about it again soon.

Layne

I sent her the flowers a few days ago now and I've heard nothing. In hindsight, I'm not sure I really expected anything, but I hoped for something. Hell, from her, another _fuck off_ would've been better than nothing. I've never had to work so hard to get a girl to give me a chance but, then again, she's _not_ like other girls. Audrey, though she's sassy and fowl mouthed, is someone that, for once, I'm not even sure I deserve. She's might not act like a lady, but she's classic.

Brandyn's been over a couple of times in the last week but I've kept my mouth shut. She strikes me as the matchmaker type already and if she knew I had a thing for Audrey, she'd try to force it. If it's meant to be, it will be. If not, nothing ventured is nothing lost.

In the meantime, I'm keeping myself busy. I have my flying lessons which are here and there, but I've only got three weeks before I present my program to the FAA. If they buy it and contract me, which is part of my deal, I'll have more money than I ever dreamed of making, and could change the evolution of flight simulation. From a geek kid who spent years playing computer games and learning to fly when he was sixteen, to an entrepreneur—it's a dream come true.

The program is basically done. All that's left are several rounds of repetitive testing to weed out the errors. It's all closing in and has me itching to fly. I haven't been in the air without a student in a couple of months and I miss it. It was a flight with my grandpa in his Cessna 172s Skyhawk SP when I was twelve that ignited my love for flight. He had just gotten it the year before and promised that when I was twelve, I could be his copilot. The day I turned twelve, I reminded him of his promise.

I remember it like it was yesterday. He buckled me into my seat and placed the headset, which was way too big, on my head. I heard every call he made to the tower, watched every switch he flipped, button he pushed, and lever he pulled. I can still remember the way my stomach felt when we left the ground. Of course, I wasn't really controlling anything that day but, even so, I knew that day I would be a pilot.

When I was fifteen, I started official training. Two days after my sixteenth birthday my grandfather co-piloted for me. It was one of the greatest days of my life. When he passed away four years ago, he left that plane to me. It's a reminder that he was the one who planted the seed of all I am today and not a day goes by that I don't know how proud he is.

I get up from my desk to stretch and make a run to the kitchen. I haven't seen Miles yet today, but he had a set last night and I'm guessing didn't get in until sometime early this morning. As I open the fridge I hear my phone ringing from the office. I swing the fridge door shut and run to catch it, as I have every call for the last few days in hopes that it's her. But it stops—I'm too late. The number isn't one my phone recognizes, so I wait, staring at the screen pathetically to see if a voicemail comes through, but it never does. Again, it wasn't her, and it probably never will be. I'm a man defeated and I walk back to the kitchen to drown my weakness in cold pizza and beer.

Audrey

I push the red circle to end the call as soon as his voicemail picks up. There, I called. It wasn't to accept his invitation to dinner but, rather, to thank him for the flowers and explain that anything between us is just not going to work out. In my drunkenness last night, I thought maybe I should give him another chance. I rationalized that, maybe, our first encounter was not the real him, maybe I should let him show me who he really is. After all, there is no denying that he affects me and that it's not always bad, but I can't. I can't take chances and allow myself to be someone that needs someone else. I can't let my guard down and take a chance that one day I may _need_ him.

I scratch Bessie on the head where she lays beside me and throw back my covers. I have to be at the coffee shop at noon and I need to take one of _my_ showers, the long relaxing kind. I need to lose myself in the steam and rid myself of all this stress I'm holding on to. I need to let it all go.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The coffee shop where I work, Indie Java House, is an artistically inspired establishment and probably more comfortable than most people's living rooms. The owner, Emma, gave up her fifteen-year career with the state in the Welfare Division, cashed in her retirement, and dumped every penny of it into this shop and her writing. She takes pride in supporting local artistry and every piece in her shop is local made and for sale. Every painting on the walls, every book on the shelves, and literally every coffee cup is indie art. Furthermore, everything that happens in the shop may just become part of a story she's writing. Phillip and I are just waiting for our big debut.

As I walk into the shop, I stop to fluff the pillows on one of the couches and pick up an empty cup from the coffee table. One of our regulars, Harold, sits in his chair in the corner with his laptop open and his earbuds in. He's in here every day and if I didn't know any better, I'd think he was homeless. He's writing a novel and says the shop inspires him, and I think he also likes that he doesn't have to get his own coffee all day long. I walk close enough to see that he is in need of a refill and, seeing that Emma is busy with a customer, I walk behind the counter to grab the pot, then double back to fill his cup.

His fingers are moving and I can faintly hear the works of Hendrix coming from his earbuds, so I'm not surprised in the least when he doesn't acknowledge my existence. It's kind of like when I'm working on a car—I blast my tunes and get lost in the job. I top off his cup and leave him to his craft. When I step back behind the counter, Emma has finished and turns to glare at me. What the hell did _I_ do?

"That little shit called in sick this morning!" Uh oh. _Thanks, Phillerup_. "Sick my ass! Were you out with him last night? I swear, one of these days I'm going to fire his ass."

"I haven't seen him since the night before last. So, no, I wasn't aiding him in his irresponsibility." And now for some reverse psychology. "Maybe you should fire him. He actually does this a lot. Don't think you should keep him because he's my friend, and because he's been here for like seven years and you made him assistant manager. He's a grown man and needs to learn some responsibility."

"Stop. I'm not going to fire him, we both know that. I love that kid, I just need to give him some incentive."

I knew she wasn't serious. "Gay hour." It's not really politically correct, but I have an idea.

"What? What the hell is gay hour?"

"Six to seven every morning can be gay hour. Phillip wouldn't pass up the opportunity knowing that the place would be full of dicks." We both break out laughing.

"The idea could work, but requires serious refining. I'll think about it." She winks at me. "I'm going to go write for a while. You got this?"

"Yes ma'am. Go write your New York Times bestseller. I'll be fine."

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's about an hour from the end of my shift when Brandyn comes through the door. I try to remember if we had plans that I might have forgotten about but come up with nothing.

"Hey B, what's up?"

She walks up and I can see the excitement written all over her face. "You need to get this weekend off. We have plans." She's nearly bouncing and I just want to put my hands on her shoulders to make her stop.

"We do?"

"Yes! We're going camping! Doesn't that sound like so much fun?"

Um, not really.

"When did this happen and why do I need to go? I'm assuming Miles is going, or I highly doubt you'd be so excited about sleeping on the ground. Sounds like a couple's thing to me. I'm not a couple."

"It's not a couple's _thing_. It's a friend thing. I already talked to Travis, he's going to be there, and a few other people who I don't know, but whatever. It'll be so much fun. You have to come."

She was starting to sell me; it does sound like it could be fun, but now I'm thinking that I shouldn't go. I'm working out the probabilities and, if Miles and Travis will both be there, their mutual friend will probably be there too. I decide to use the cop out I always use when I really don't want to do something.

"You know B, it does sound like fun, but I don't think I can get the time off," I say in my most convincingly disappointed voice.

"Time off for what?" Emma's voice pops up behind me. But before I can talk my way out of her giving me the time off Brandyn starts her sales pitch.

"A bunch of us are planning a camping trip this weekend and I want my bestie there. Can she have the weekend off, Emma, please?"

I need to be a lawyer right now and sway her to my side using all that psychology stuff I pay a lot to learn. "Really Emma, it's no big deal if you need me here. I'll catch them next time. Surely Phillip will bail on you at some point this weekend and you know I don't mind covering—" But she cuts me off.

"Go. Have some fun with your friends," she says smiling.

"What?" She said no, right? I just misheard.

"I said go. Have a good time, make memories with your friend. I can handle this _and_ Phillip too, if need be. You're only young once."

While I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that Layne may or may not be on this trip too, I think I'm starting to have a minor anxiety attack. Brandyn is jumping for joy and actually reaches over the counter to hug Emma.

"Thank you so much, Emma!" Brandyn says then turns to me. "Oh my God, Audrey, we're going to have so much fun!"

"Yep. Loads." I think I may need some major convincing to agree.

Layne

Miles has been running around for the last few days packing for the camping trip. He invited me but, as soon as he told me that Brandyn was going too, I decided it was more of a couple's thing and respectfully declined. Had he mentioned that Audrey was going to be there, I may have changed my mind. But he didn't say and I didn't ask.

It's been a week since I sent her the roses and I've heard nothing. No thank you, no I'd like to have dinner with you, not even what I assume to be her favorite response to anything I say—fuck off. The smart guy inside me says it's time to let this girl go but—and it may be the idiot inside me talking—the other side is telling me that this isn't over; that I can fight harder. Either way, it looks like I'm spending this weekend alone.

"Travis will be here in a little while to pack the truck and Brandyn's going to meet us here and leave her car. Are you sure you don't want to go? It's going to be awesome. I guess Travis' uncle has this badass cabin with plenty of space for everyone to set up their tents. There are hiking trails that take you up to a cliff and there's a pond." He goes on and on, sounding like an excited little kid.

"It sounds fun, but I don't want to be a third wheel." I'd rather sit here and sulk while planning my next efforts with Audrey.

"I told you it's not a couple's thing. Travis doesn't have a girlfriend either." He cocks his head and looks at me as if to say _come on Layne, live a little_.

"It does sound pretty cool. Maybe the fresh air will do me some good." I ponder for a moment and then make a snap decision. Sitting here alone all weekend will do me no good; I'll just obsess about her. I need to get out, bond with nature, clear my head, and relive my boy scout days. "Okay, I'm in."

"Cool man!" He holds his hand up for a high five and I slap my hand to his. "Go get your stuff together, then you can help me pack the cooler. This weekend is going to be epic."

Audrey

As I'm packing my duffle bag, I'm trying to come up with excuses for how to get out of this trip. So far, I've got none that would work, so I'm changing gears and coming up with reasons why I should go. When was the last time I took time for me? When was the last time I got out of the city? When was the last time I didn't have a job or class to go to for four whole days? The answer to all three questions is... I can't remember. The fact that I can't means that it's time to do all three. I text Tiffany to come check on Bessie once a day while I'm gone. I guess I'm going camping.

I have no idea what the weather will be like where we're going, so I've made sure I have plenty of warm options. Utah is usually cooler than Nevada and Nevada hasn't even begun its descent into hell yet. I pack jeans, a pair of sweats, my cabin socks that I usually just wear around the house, my Red Sox beanie, and my UNLV hoodie. Then I pick up my favorite blanket, roll it up and shove it in with one of my pillows. All that's left to do is grab my camera, iPod, a bottle of allergy pills, and a book. This girl is packed for a weekend in the woods.

I walk into the living room and stop in my tracks when I see a pile of luggage meant for the Ritz Carlton stacked by the door. "B?" I yell and she quickly comes into the room.

"What's up?" She's clueless as to why I've called her in.

"This," I say pointing to her bags. "This is not going. We're camping for four days and three nights. You do not need all of this," I say as I circle my finger over the pile. "Go grab your duffle bag, I'm helping you downsize."

"But..." she tries to object.

"But nothing. You're already beautiful and your boyfriend is going to be there. He's already seen you in the morning and probably heard you fart in your sleep. We're camping not going to Hollywood. You get one duffle bag and a backpack. Go get them." She stands there speechless for a second. "Now," I say and point to her room.

She turns and sulks off to her room. I pick up the first of her bags and open it on the couch. I grab out four pairs of underwear and three pairs of socks, and conclude that the rest is useless. Next bag.

She returns with her duffle and I place what I've set aside in the bag, zip it up and dare her to add anything else. Defeated, she puts a few things in her backpack and zips it up, then gives me the mean mom smile. I smile back, knowing that the reason we've been friends so long is because I'm reasonable when she is not. Not to stereotype her, but she's a hairdresser, and that means she's a little high maintenance. I'm her Yin and she's my Yang.

Her phone rings and her face lights up—it must be Miles. They seem to be getting along pretty good; the only concern I have is that she says he drinks a lot. I'm not worried about her, per se, because she has a good head on her shoulders and makes good decisions. I do worry, though, because a woman in love doesn't see the flaws others do. She hasn't told me that she's in love with him yet, but if they stay their course, it's coming.

I walk out of the room to grab some snacks to stuff in my backpack. I'm looking forward to hiking and taking some pictures, some obscenely quiet and alone time. I take a couple of granola bars from the cabinet and then open the fridge to get an apple or two. Brandyn says she gave Miles money for groceries and he went shopping since his schedule is more flexible than hers. Good thing I'm not picky.

"That was Miles. They're loaded and ready to go when we get there," Brandyn says as she enters the kitchen.

"Where exactly are we staying?"

"Travis' uncle's cabin. They have a trailer parked up there that Miles has already called for us and there's plenty of room for tents."

"Exactly how many people are going?" I ask, my own doubt about this trip starting to creep back up on me.

"Including us, eight, maybe ten people." She shrugs her shoulders but, when she looks at me, she can see what I'm thinking. It's not that I mind being social, but I'm sure I won't know some of these people. I'm having second thoughts. "Don't even think about it, missy! You're going. In fact, let's go now, before you can change your mind." She reaches over, grabs my arm and pulls me into the living room. She picks up her two bags and motions for me to do the same. I pick up my bags, she picks up her keys and we're off.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There's no mistaking Travis' truck as we pull up with Miles and Travis sitting on the tailgate. Brandyn pulls into the driveway and alongside the Charger I know belongs to Layne. Now I'm really regretting my decision to come, but need to suck it up until we leave. Then he and I will be hours apart and, with any luck, I can forget he even exists.

I step out of the car and go to the back door to pull our bags out and I'm met by Travis. "Hey Sis! I was so happy when I heard you were coming with us." He jumps in front of me and grabs the bags for me. I grab the backpacks and follow him to the truck. He tosses them in the back and pushes the tailgate up. Brandyn and Miles are already lip-locked and I'm wondering how I'm going to make it through the weekend with all those hormones.

"Yeah, B talked me into it. I decided that a few days out of the city is a good idea." It is, it is, it is. If I just keep saying it, it'll be true.

"Trust me, you'll love it. I guess we're ready to roll," he says loud enough to get the lovebirds' attention.

"Woo hoo!" Brandyn cheers and we all go for a door. Then, from behind me, comes the voice I thought I was escaping and I can't believe the words that come out of his mouth.

Layne

"Shotgun!" I say as I shut the front door, oblivious of the fact that Audrey's hand is on the handle of the door I just called. In my defense, her hair is up in a messy bun, the pink I remember from that first day is faded, and she's wearing a hoodie. So, it's not until she turns to me with disgust and disappointment on her face that I realize it's her. Her eyes lock on mine and, in that second, I have to make a decision. Do I put us back to square one or do I play the gentleman to avoid further tension between us?

"Um, I'm sorry. Go ahead, you were here first," I say as I approach. Yup, I'm a pussy. But the act does little to wipe the irritation of my presence from her face. I think we're both in the same boat, where neither of us knew the other would be here. But unlike her, I'm not at all upset. I see this as the chance of a lifetime.

"No, go ahead. You've got longer legs," she says. For whatever reason, she doesn't fight me, in fact, I swear her eyes soften. Like me, she probably figures that we're going to be stuck together all weekend and starting it this way isn't a good idea. I don't want her to feel defeated, but I'll take this small win. Maybe we can actually get through this weekend without casualties. ****

"Thanks. I owe you one."

"Consider it thanks for the roses." And she walks around to the back door to sit behind Travis. ****

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We've been on the road for two hours and pull up to a gas station for the final stop before heading up the mountain and out of mainstream civilization's reach for the next eighty, or so, hours. Audrey has had her nose in a book the entire time, which has given me plenty of opportunities to glance at her from the corner of my eye. I've never seen her when she's not hating on me, and even then, I'm able to appreciate her beauty. But the way she sits right now, so peaceful, and not obviously pissed off at me, she's more than beautiful—she's taking my breath away. ****

"Come to the bathroom with me, Audrey," Brandyn says, acting as though she's about to pee her pants. "These truck stop bathrooms are always so gross and the locks on the doors never work." ****

Audrey places a bookmark in her book and sets it in her seat, then hops out to walk with her friend. I take out my wallet and swipe it at the pump, then hang back with Travis while he fills the tank. If she wasn't here, I'd never think of doing this but, since she is, and because I know I have a few minutes, should I chance asking him about Audrey? I've figured out they're not together, but they are close. If anyone could give me advice, it would be him. ****

"I didn't know Audrey was coming," I ease in. ****

"By the look on her face when she saw you, I don't think she knew you were coming either." He shakes his head, smiling. ****

"Yeah, our initial meeting didn't go well. I was being, well, me. The asshole me, you know him."

He laughs again. **** "We all have an asshole inside of us, yours just usually plays a bigger game than everyone else's. So, what did you do?" ****

"What do you mean?" ****

"Look, time's wasting, the girls will be back any minute. What did you do to make her hate you so much so I can tell you how to fix it?" I haven't even asked him yet and he's trying to help me. ****

"If you ask her, I almost ran her off the road, then made a statement about her ass at a gas station. The icing on the cake was when I took her to my house that night you got tossed at Sass and Sins. She wouldn't tell me where she lived and passed out in my car. The only crime I will own and take the heat for is the ass comment. She pretty much left me with my hands tied on the last one. I've apologized. I sent her roses. I even asked her to dinner, thinking we might have a chance at a fresh start. But she's just not letting up and now she's basically ignoring me! I don't know what to do." God, I sound desperate. ****

"Wow! Layne Turner has met his match." ****

"You sound like Miles," I say shaking my head. ****

"But I think it could still work out for you. She's complicated and has her reasons for that. Be patient with her, set your asshole aside and make a real effort to get to know her. She'll come around." ****

"I don't know what it is about her, but she's all I've thought about since the moment I met her. You really think I have a chance?" ****

"She's like my little sister and if I didn't love you like a brother, I'd say hell no, but there's something about the idea of the two of you that makes sense. Like, individually you're both your own kind of mess, but together you could be something better."

I look back at the mini-mart. The girls are still inside and waiting in line. It won't be long before they'll be back. ****

I look back at Travis, ready to do whatever he says. "So, be patient and less of an ass? That's all you've got?" ****

"Brother, that's all you need."

Layne

I've never been here before but, when we make a left into a camping area, it appears we're running out of road and there's nowhere to go but up. Miles and Brandyn spent the first half of the trip chattering quietly but they've spent the last hour with her head on his shoulder and his against the window. Audrey kept her nose in her book until Travis announced that we were making a tight turn that left us looking down the side of a cliff. The adventure she saw has kept her eyes open and glued the windows since.

We pass the campground and drive over a narrow and rickety bridge, where a small lake comes into sight, then Travis maneuvers down a narrow road along the lake until he comes to stop at a gate. He hops out of the truck to unlock the gate and pulls us through, then stops again to close and lock it behind us. But instead of getting back in after he's done, he goes to the back of the truck and, when he returns, he has five beers in hand. He passes one to each one of us, and pops his open.

"To a weekend in the woods!" he says and raises his can. We all crack ours open and lift them to toast him in unison.

"To a weekend in the woods!" And we all take a long swig before he switches the truck into four-wheel drive and we head up the mountain.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A right at the first gate, then a left at the second, we make our way up a grated road that's so narrow you can hear the trees scratching the sides of the truck. The view is amazing though. We see trees that have been untouched for decades and sky that's not filled with the smog of the city. I can't wait to get out and explore.

It's a long road with lots of turns, but we come upon a tank of some sort and a little shack where the road ends and Travis makes one more turn down a steep hill that appears to end at a clearing. Continuing straight on would dump us into the forest. But I can see the cabin off to the right and, at the end of the hill, he makes the final turn parking us right in front of its garage. I believe we have arrived.

We all hop out of the truck and Travis opens the garage door. I wander a few feet away and stand at the edge of a small ledge that ends in a twenty or thirty-foot drop, but the view is amazing. I can see the road we followed to get here and a mountain in the distance that's painted with shades of pink. There are no sounds of the city. No traffic, no sirens, nothing made by man. This was what I needed and where I hope to mend not only myself, but those I've wronged, especially one certain girl.

"Hey Layne, give me a hand with these coolers." Pulled from my moment, I turn to see Travis in the bed of the truck.

"You got it buddy." I run over and catch the end as he pushes it toward the tailgate. Then he jumps down and grabs the other side. We walk it into the garage and set it down then go back for the other.

I look around. Audrey is standing where I stood only moments ago and I wonder if she's seeing it the same way I did. She pulls her backpack to her side, and unzips it and then reaches inside. When her hand reappears, she's holding a camera and lifts it to take a picture. She's seeing it alright and while I'll only be able to recall it by memory, she's capturing it so she can have it forever.

Audrey

The view through the lens is never as beautiful as the naked eye but it's the only way to keep it forever. When your memories fail you, a picture can remind you that what you saw was real. So many times, after my father died, I worried that I would forget things about him— that as I grew older I wouldn't remember how he looked because the last time my eyes saw him I was only sixteen years old. I spent hours going through photos, scanning them, and making my own copies to keep forever.

As I look out over the distance, I feel at peace and I'm happy I decided to come here. I've spent almost every moment of my life in Vegas, the city of lights, the city that never sleeps. I worried that I wouldn't be able to appreciate the quiet and the solitude and maybe, in the long term, I won't, but for a couple of days I think it's exactly what I need. The only thing I worry about now is him.

Other than the incident outside the truck before we left, he hasn't tried to talk to me again, and I get the feeling that he won't. He put himself out there by offering an apology and asking for a fresh start but I shot it down, and now I'm kind of wishing I hadn't. I still don't want to get involved in a relationship, but he did do something that I respect him for; he stood up to me. At the time, it did nothing but piss me off, but now I'm thinking maybe he actually did something right.

I'm a little shit most days and occasionally I'm an asshole, but that's my M.O., that's how I keep people from getting close and know the people who dare to try are real. But he didn't just walk away, he gave it right back to me, just like I gave it to him. If I was looking for a man, they would have to be someone like him.

I turn to see him looking at me but he quickly looks away and busies himself by pulling the rest of the bags out of the back of the truck. I should say something to him just to clear the air but, just as I find my voice and the nerve, Travis calls for my attention from the deck above.

"Audrey, come up here. I'll show you your room."

"Coming!" I say and grab my duffle bag but Layne reaches down at the same time I do and we bump heads. We both bounce back, rubbing our heads, then we both start laughing. He leans down again, while I stay upright, and picks up my bag and hands it to me.

"Thanks," I say with more kindness than any word I've said to him so far, and I even smile. I decide that from this moment on, I'm choosing to leave my city attitude where it belongs this weekend—in the city. Some may say we just needed to break the ice but, maybe for us, we just had to bump heads.

I head up the stairs feeling like a huge weight just dropped from my shoulders. This is going to be a good weekend. As I reach the top Travis yells for Layne too.

"Layne!"

"Yeah!" He looks up.

"You get the couch buddy!"

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time we're all settled, I'm dealing pretty well with the fact that Layne will be sleeping on the other side of a wall from me. For the next three days and nights, he'll only be feet away when, for the last few weeks, I've been pushing him as far away as possible. Two things can happen—either I'll come to like the guy or I'll hate the guy. I guess we'll let the weekend decide.

Travis calls us to the deck and, once there, I take a seat on the wooden swing and Brandyn sits down next to me.

"So, there are a few rules around here," Travis starts. "We have well water and a septic tank. This means we're in conservation mode. If it's yellow, leave it mellow. If it's brown flush it down." Brandyn releases an _ewe_ under her breath. "Or use the outhouse; it's right there." He points to the side of the cabin. I can't see it from where I sit, so I get up to look and quickly decide that I'll use it—it's better than letting my piss sit. Brandyn, who I know will never even consider it, doesn't leave her spot.

Travis goes on to explain the power situation, reminds us to be fire and litter smart, and lets us know that his cousin and a couple of his friends will be arriving soon. Thankfully, they like roughing it and have their own tents. If it's the one cousin that I've met, he's crazy funny and can tell a story like no other. Furthermore, Travis says that if we go hiking and get lost, just keep going up. At the peak, where we'd likely end up, our cells should work and he has us all program the cabin number into our phones.

We have tons of snacks, even more beer, and enough food to eat like royalty while we're here. We may actually be eating better out here this weekend than we do back home. I'm just looking forward to some me time. My goal for the next three and a half days is to let down my fences and find my center. I want to forget about work, school, my life back in Vegas, and that the one person I'm afraid can get inside my head is only a room away. I can easily forget the first three, but the last may be a little harder.

Layne

Travis' cousin, Jess, and his girlfriend, Amy, showed up and set up their camp just before dinner time, bringing our total to a comfortable seven. There were supposed to be three more but they canceled last minute. Travis grilled steaks and baked potatoes for dinner, and now we're all settled around the table to play the dice game, Ship Captain Crew.

We're all drinking and having such a good time that I think Audrey forgot she hates me. More than once I've caught her looking at me out of the corner of her eye, it's not much but I'll take it. A bottle of sour apple schnapps makes its way around the table and laughter fills the air as the losers take shots. Audrey is the first to take one and the liquor sparks a memory.

"Hey Trav, do you remember my first encounter with schnapps?" Audrey asks. Her eyes sparkling with mischief as they fall on me.

"You mean the time you got so drunk that Tiffany and I had to sneak you into the house and put you to bed? You were so wasted and wouldn't stop giggling. I swore we were going to get busted." Travis replies.

"That's the one. And I spent the whole day after playing it off as the flu instead of a hangover so my parents wouldn't find out. Oh, the good old days. I swore I'd never drink again, now look at me." The room fills with her laughter and that's when I realize just how intoxicating her laugh is. It's impossible not to join her.

The clock on the walk reads a quarter to eleven and the evening is coming to an end. I wasn't keeping track of how many rounds we've played but Travis didn't fare so well. Needless to say, he's crawling up the spiral staircase to his bed. Also calling it a night, Audrey excuses herself to her room. Everyone else slowly follows her lead and I find myself alone.

Now, lying on the futon in front of the fireplace, I lose myself in the flames as they die down. I've been following Travis' advice with Audrey, giving her space and letting her warm up to me. Tonight, there was no glaring or eye rolling, I was one of the gang. We laughed together and it's the most fun I've had in a long time. Tonight, I consider myself the lucky one.

I'm almost asleep when I hear her door open and her light steps as she walks into the kitchen and fills a glass with water. If I move too quickly right now, I'd probably scare her out of her skin, so I sit up slowly and turn to see her standing in front of the kitchen window looking out. The way the moonlight shines on her, she almost appears angelic and I impulsively wish that I was standing behind her. The profile of her face as she holds the glass to her mouth, the way her hair lies over her shoulder, and the way her shirt clings to her body, defining her curves, they all call to me. How will I ever get through three nights of having her so close, yet so far away?

She places her glass on the counter and I slowly and quietly lower myself back down on the couch. Stalking her in the night will not help me where she's concerned. I listen as her door closes. I release a sigh and run my fingers through my hair, then lie there for a minute watching the shadows of the flames play on the ceiling.

"Goodnight, Audrey," I whisper, then close my eyes and drift off to sleep.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of giggles, the clank of pans on the stove, and the pop of grease act as my alarm clock. As the rest of my senses catch up, I smell coffee and bacon. I've been known to sleep through anything but I think it was the giggle that got me. Rather than announce that I'm awake, I lay there for another few minutes to listen in, getting more than I bargained for.

"Shush, you're going to wake him," Audrey whispers.

"Nah, he sleeps like a rock." There's a pause. "About him—he asked me about you," Travis says and I want to curse him for saying anything, but lie there silent and listen.

"Why would he ask about me?" She sounds surprised. "I've given him no reason, in fact, I've given him every reason not to."

"Well, sometimes the hard-to-get act backfires. Look, I've never seen him interested in anyone, so whatever it is that you're doing, it's his kryptonite. All I'm saying is, maybe you should give the guy a chance. He's not a bad guy, just a little rough around the edges." He's pulling for me.

"I'm not _playing_ hard to get. You know that I'm no good at relationships. I don't want one and, to be honest, I'm not sure I can let my guard down and allow myself to be that vulnerable."

"You work like hell to take care of everyone else, Sis. All I'm saying is, maybe you should do something for you for a change. Focus on your happiness for once." Then the tone of his voice changes. "Don't do what I did, Audrey. Don't let something good get away."

I don't want to interrupt but I'm starting to feel guilty listening to what has turned into a pretty personal conversation, so I start coughing to quiet them and stretch to warn them that I'm waking up. Then I sit up and look over the back of the couch.

"Is that coffee I smell?"

Audrey looks nervously at Travis, then back at me. "Yeah. It'll be done in a couple of minutes. Would you like a cup?"

"I'd love one."

She opens cabinets until she finds the mugs and pulls down three. It looks like I didn't sleep too far into the morning's breakfast preparation.

I stand and stretch, then pick up my blanket and pillow and move them off the couch. Then I head for the restroom. One glimpse of my hair in the mirror and I'm almost glad I interrupted their conversation so that making fun of me was the last thing they'd think of. I splash some water on my face and comb my fingers through my hair. The next time I look at my reflection, I look myself straight in the eye and make a promise that today is the day. Today I get the girl.

Audrey

Everyone came up for breakfast, then we all broke off to do our own things. Miles and Brandyn went down to the lake with Jess and Amy. Travis dragged Layne along with him to take care of the chores. And I lay down on the hammock under the patio, with my book and nothing but the sound of nature surrounding me. There's a breeze that causes the leaves on the trees to clap lightly. How I wish I could take these sounds with me when I leave.

I finish the last word of my current chapter. Normally I would have no problem continuing onto the next, but there's something I want to do more. I want to go for a walk with my camera and capture some of this beauty to take home with me. I rise from the hammock and take the stairs to the upper deck of the cabin. I go to my room and dump the contents of my backpack on the bed, then fill it with my camera, my hoodie, and my book, just in case I find a cozy place to finish it. I shove my phone in my pocket and, as I pass through the kitchen, I grab a couple bottles of water and squeeze those into the mesh pockets on the outside of my pack. On my way out, I spy a flashlight on the counter and, though I don't intend to be out past dark, it's better to be safe than sorry.

I'm off. When I hit the ground, I glance left, then right. If I start to the right, I'll be heading downhill; it's a fairly steep hill and, eventually, I'm going to have to come back up. If I start to the left, I'll be heading uphill, and that means the hardest part of my venture will be out of my way once I make it to the top. My mom raised no fool, so the choice is easy—up the hill I go.

I decide not to wander too far from the roads since I don't know the area, and start up towards the water tank. I am not that out of shape but the hill and the thinner air due to our elevation certainly put my endurance to the test. When I make it to the top, I stop, placing my hands on my knees, taking in a few deep breaths and waiting for my heart to slow. There's movement to my left and realize that it's Travis and Layne. They look to be repositioning a solar panel. Travis stops when he sees me and yells over to me.

"Hey! Whatchya doing?"

"Just going for a walk. I want to get some pictures."

"Do you want company? Layne and I are going to be done in just a minute."

Travis knows me well enough, so I'm not worried about hurting his feelings, but I really don't want company right now. Right now, I just want to be alone; that's why I came on this trip to begin with.

"No, I'm good. I'll be back in a little while."

Layne, who I think was trying to avoid becoming part of the conversation, looks over at me. He doesn't look comfortable hearing that I'm going off on my own. But I'm not worried about what makes him comfortable. This isn't about him, it's about me.

"As long as you stick to the road you can't get too lost. If you do, just head to the top and call the cabin. I'll come get ya." Travis says.

"I got it. See you in a bit." I give him thumbs up and turn back to the road to start my journey.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I do as Travis instructed and stick to the roads. Some of them I can't see much further than a couple hundred feet before they curve, and some of them I can see for a few hundred feet ahead, maybe more. So which road will I take? There's comfort and security in being able to see what's ahead, but there's no adventure in always knowing. I don't take a lot of turns, metaphorically speaking. I don't dare to see what's around the corner. My goals are straight ahead of me and that's all I need to know—all I want to see.

The words from the conversation I had this morning with Travis play again in my head. _Don't do what I did, Audrey. Don't let something good get away._ I know he was talking about my sister and, though neither one of them have confided in me on the specifics that tore them apart, I know that deep down they both regret letting each other go. That's what I'm afraid of. Getting so close to someone that I won't know how to live without them.

Baby steps. Maybe right now I just need to take a turn off of the straight path, and see what else there is. Maybe, it's time to have a little adventure. Maybe I'll start with the next turn in the road that I see.

Audrey

I'm not in any hurry, as the day is mine. I follow the road and assume that I'm heading toward the peak that Travis spoke of. After making my way through an area darkened by a tunnel of leaning trees, I see the clearing. It opens up into a vast space dressed in wild grass and yellow flowers. To my right is a tree with a hunting lookout that appears to have gone unused for many seasons. Though I understand the circle of life and mans need for food, its age in and unkemptness brings me relief. The road up here has faded but I follow its remnants until I can walk no further.

I'm just steps away from a rim of boulders stacked upon each other and beyond them is nothing but open space. There's nothing to obstruct my view for miles and within that view nature paints the most stunning picture. I'm not a religious person but I believe this may just be the closest you can get to heaven without dying—the closest I can get to my dad. I pull my pack from my back and step out to the first rock, then slowly and steadily sit down.

I pull out my camera, wanting to capture the wonder that I'm looking at but, as soon as I've looked through my viewfinder, I lower the camera to my lap. As much as I want to capture this moment in a form more concrete than memory, it occurs to me how few people get to see this. A selfishness within me emerges, one that chooses to keep this beauty to myself. It's my prize for taking the turn instead of continuing the straight and clear path. I set the camera back down, lean on the palms of my hands and take it all in.

The sun is starting to move and I look at my watch to see that it's already early afternoon. Travis must not be too worried because he hasn't come looking for me yet, but in a couple more hours the search will be on. I stand up and step back onto solid ground, lifting the strap of my camera over my head and throwing my pack over my shoulder, then turn to leave. I don't take more than a couple steps before I stop and turn back around. I already miss the view and decide that more selfish than not sharing this beauty at all, is having proof of it to keep for myself. I lift the camera and take one shot, then smile as I lower it and turn back to my path. But I'm stopped in my tracks.

I'm not alone. And as for when he got here or how long he's been watching me, I have no clue.

Layne

After I finished helping Travis do all the little chores that come with using the cabin, which I consider a very reasonable fee, I sit around for a little while waiting for Audrey to return. But after a couple of hours pass, I get antsy and decide to go look for her. I pack my backpack with all the things a boy scout should have and a couple extras that a man lost in the woods should have, then head out on my search. From the bottom of the first hill, I stop, face the cabin, and unhook the compass from my pack, then hold it up and note the direction. Southeast, got it. Then, I turn around and start walking.

I take the first turn that heads up the mountain and follow it through. I search the woods for signs of life, such as animals or girls with pink hair. It's probably too hot already to see deer, but I'm sure there are other wildlife that share this forest with me now and, as long as they don't want to eat me, I'd love to see them.

I make it to a clearing, just the birds, grasshoppers, and me until I get close enough to the edge to see _her_ just beyond a couple of naked trees. She's holding the camera to her face and then lowers it, pausing a moment before she turns. Then she sees me and stops as though her feet have been caught in cement. There's no doubt that my presence has an effect on her, but exactly what kind, I don't yet know. I just hope that it's a fraction of the effect she has on me.

I walk toward her and she doesn't move but she watches me intensely. As I get closer, I can see how she's fidgeting with the strap on her camera. She's stunning. The way the light from the sun plays behind her, she glows.

"What are you doing up here?" she asks as if accusing me of stalking her.

"The same thing you are. Clearing my mind, finding my ground."

She nods and gives me a little smile as if she not only understands but believes what I say.

"Look, Audrey, I didn't even know you were coming on this trip until I saw you at the truck. When you didn't call me after—"

"I did call." She cuts me off.

"You did?" I missed her call?

"I called, but it went to voicemail and I hung up and just never called again." I'm annoyed that I missed her call but, hopeful because she _did_ call.

"I'm sorry I missed it." Unless, of course, she was calling to tell me to go fuck myself, which is not something I can rule out. The fact that she hasn't said any more and that she didn't call back indicates that may have been the case. I need to buy some time while she seems almost approachable. "You want a beer?"

I don't wait for her to answer. I start unzipping my pack, then reach in and take out two beers, holding one out to her.

"As a boy scout, I learned what you need to survive in the wild. As a man scout I realized they left one very important thing out—beer." She smirks at me and I laugh, _but_ she takes the beer from my hand, her fingers gently touching mine.

"I was going to keep it to myself but since you're here, come on." She turns and walks back in the direction she was coming from when I showed up. I follow and step up beside her as we come upon the edge of the dirt. She sets down her pack and steps out, sits down on the first rock and cracks open her beer. "Care to join me?"

I drop my pack next to hers, step out to sit on the rock next to her and open my beer. "This is amazing," I say, breathless. We sit atop boulders piled hundreds of feet high to create a ledge that drops straight down. The mountains in the distance look like they have a winding trail dug through miles of red rock. Greenery scattered here and there accent life but there are no signs of it otherwise. Right now it's all ours, like no one else exists. I bump my shoulder into hers. "Thank you."

"For what?" she asks, bringing the can to her lips.

"For sharing this with me. For letting this be the longest amount of time we've spent together without you calling me an asshole."

She starts laughing. "Well then, I owe you a thank-you too." She giggles and the sound makes me smile. "For bringing beer," she holds up her can, "and for making this the longest amount of time we've spent together without you being an asshole." For the sake of making this moment last as long as possible, I take that hit and raise my can to touch hers.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We sit for a while in silence, something I assume she was doing for a while before I showed up, but our beers are empty. As much as I hate to leave, to break this common peace we've found, I think it's time to head back.

"Travis is going to send out a search party soon. Are you ready to head back?"

She looks at me, then gives the scene before us one more glance. "Yeah, I'm ready. But you know what I'd really love to see?" she asks. She stands and steps back onto solid ground and comes to stand in front of me.

"What's that?" I ask, genuinely interested in knowing anything and everything that can make her smile.

"Sunset up here. I can't imagine anything more poetic." There's a light in her eyes and I'm seeing her in a way I never have. Beneath her tough and sassy armor is a woman who enjoys and respects life's beauty.

"I'd like to see that too. If you'll let me, I'd like to see it with you."

She looks into my eyes and I can see the resistance. I recall what I heard this morning, and hope that she takes Travis' advice and gives me a chance. She pulls her lip into her mouth, contemplating how she'll answer the question that I really didn't ask.

"Okay," she says, and my heart, that I seriously think stopped beating while waiting for her response, jolts back to life. That one word feels like the beginning of everything I've wanted for weeks. How is it that I haven't even kissed this girl and she owns me so completely, this soft side of her appealing to me every bit as much as her sassy side?

"Tomorrow night then. It's a date?"

She closes her eyes for a second and takes a deep breath. When she reopens them, they meet mine and I see the confidence her gaze lacked just seconds ago. Whatever she's about to say is sure and real.

"We'll see."

Never in my life have I asked that question and waited so unsure for an answer, but never has it felt like _this_. She didn't say yes, but she didn't say no, and she didn't tell me to fuck off. She didn't say yes, but I have twenty-four hours to convince her.

With Audrey, it isn't a race. Though I won't deny there are parts of me that want parts of her badly, she's the one who will decide how fast this goes.

"Travis will be sending out a search party soon." I hold out my hand hoping that she'll take it but knowing she won't do anything she doesn't want to do. To my surprise, she does take it, then tugs on my hand to follow her.

Audrey

Whether you call it a leap of faith or a simple turn down an unknown road, I'm taking it. I came here to take time and do something for me and, though I have all this beauty around me, what I think I want now is someone to share it with. I'm still not thinking serious or long term but I'm thinking that maybe Travis was right—I shouldn't let something, or someone, good get away. Aside from the first time we met, Layne has tried to be a gentleman. I am the one who has acted like the word I use so much in his regard. I'm the asshole.

We follow the road we both took to get to the top and Layne, being the boy scout that he is, leads the way. With all the trees offering cover, it appears later than it is, but there's no doubt that the sun is making its way to dusk. I look at my watch and see that it's almost five and it's no wonder my stomach is starting to grumble. It's so loud that Layne hears it.

"Was that you or a bear?" he asks, laughing.

"That was me. I haven't eaten since breakfast." I laugh too.

"I have some granola bars. Do you want one?"

"It's okay. We're almost back and Travis is probably already cooking dinner." I keep walking with Layne right beside me.

"Can I ask you something?" he asks nervously.

"Sure."

"Were you and Travis ever..."

I look over at him as he struggles with his question, as if he's not sure he wants to hear the answer, so I save him from having to finish it.

"No. We were never a couple. He and my older sister dated and, when they broke up, Travis and I didn't. He was around when my dad died and I couldn't stand to lose another man I cared about. He's the brother I never had." I look over and see that Layne's face softens with relief at my answer.

"I'm sorry about your dad." He gives my hand a gentle squeeze. "How old were you?"

"I was seventeen, near the end of my junior year. You want to talk about teen angst? I was devastated and felt so alone. My mom checked out. Travis and my sister, Tiffany, were my only real support system until they broke up about a year later. I felt like the burden of keeping my family together had suddenly fallen on my shoulders. I needed escape, so I started smoking and got a job at the coffee shop just so I didn't have to be home. Then I met my best friend, Phillip. Without words, we got each other through our various struggles. And here I am." I swing my free arm out to the side.

"Well, Audrey, you're an impressive woman. Getting through all that is no small feat. No wonder you're so strongly opinionated, sassy, and unwilling to let anyone help you with anything." He bumps me in the shoulder, causing me to miss my step and I almost fall. But he moves quickly and, with a tight arm around my waist, keeps me from hitting the ground. In doing so, his mouth ends up millimeters from mine.

For weeks, I've thought about his lips, no matter how hard I tried not to. Just the smallest movement could put all that wonder to rest. My eyes must be begging him to lean in and kiss me but, while his gaze floats down to my lips and I long for him to make his move, he doesn't move any closer.

"Are you okay?" He's so close I can feel his breath on my skin.

"Yeah, I'm fine," but, I'm not. I'm _so_ not.

He pulls me upright and steps just far enough away that I can no longer feel the warmth of his body, but he still holds my hands in his. "Are you sure? You're shaking." He squeezes my hands and rubs the tops with his thumbs.

"I just need to eat. That's all." _That's all I'm going to tell him, though I need so much more right now._ "I'm good. Really."

"Well let's get you back and get some food in you before I mistake you for a bear again," he teases _without_ bumping me this time.

"I'll show you a bear, mister," I tease back and he tries to look scared.

It looks like I've made a mistake about Mr. Turner. Actually, I may have made two. He's not the monster I wanted to think he was and, now that I've given him a chance, I'm not sure I'll be able to let him go.

Layne

As hard as it's been to get this close to Audrey without being told to fuck off or being called an asshole, I'm afraid to blow it. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted it so bad and all it would've taken was a fraction of an inch to make it happen. But I don't want her to think that's all I want from her. She opened up to me and, now that I know where all that sass comes from, I also know just how fragile she is. She's tough, there's no doubt, but she's far from unbreakable.

We start down the final hill to the cabin and I can smell dinner cooking. Travis has always been a bit of a city hick and this weekend he's letting the hick in him take over, taking care of chores like cutting wood, turning panels, and taking the role of camp cook. I helped him this morning, figuring it was a small price to pay to his uncle for giving us the cabin for the weekend.

"God, that smells amazing!" Audrey exclaims and her stomach agrees with a roar. She quickly looks at me. "Shut up."

I raise my hands in surrender and start laughing. "I wasn't going to say anything. But Audrey..."

"Yes?" she says sarcastically.

"I'll share my dinner with you if you don't get enough." Much to my delight, she does exactly what I figured she would and smacks my arm. There's the girl who got my attention and bored her way into my mind that very first day. I never wanted her to disappear completely; I kind of like her spunk.

"And here I thought we were friends, Mr. Turner," she scoffs.

"We are," I say as I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. "Let's get you fed, girl!" I take her kicking and giggling all the way to the dinner table.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's amazing, the one-eighty that has occurred between us. One moment, she's sending me to the depths of hell with her stare, and now we're sitting together on the patio swing listening to Miles play his guitar. I knew I needed this weekend to get out of the city and put other aspects of my life in perspective, but I'm starting to think maybe that's what she needed too.

Audrey sits cross legged with a blanket wrapped around her, listening intensely while Miles plays. I want to reach out and touch her, pull her close to me and be the one who keeps her warm, but I don't think we're there just yet. It was only this afternoon that we spoke for the first time without name-calling, curse words, or raised voices. And I have a feeling that she is not a girl to be rushed, she's just too strong for that.

With one final strum, the song comes to an end and Audrey drops the blanket to clap.

"You are really talented, Miles. Did you write that song yourself?" she asks, genuinely interested.

"I did. It was one of the first pieces I performed in public," he says, proud but humble.

"Well it was amazing. I wish I played that well."

Wait, she plays?

"So, you play?" he asks.

"A little." She shakes her head, either regretting that she mentioned it or just being modest. "I'm not very good."

"She's not very bad either," Brandyn cuts in. "I've heard her in her bedroom." She looks at Audrey and gives her that busted smile.

Miles stands up, walks towards Audrey and hands her the guitar.

"No. I can't," she says and pushes it away.

"Oh, come on, Audrey," Travis cheers.

"Come on, Audrey, it's just us," Brandyn pipes in.

I lean in, wanting to be a little less conspicuous than the others. Of course, I want to hear her play, which is all the more reason for me to act like I won't care if she doesn't.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," I whisper and she looks at me like that was all she needed to hear to _make_ her want to. She looks at the others, who wait anxiously.

"One song, that's it." She takes the guitar and they all clap, thinking they've won. But she's not doing it for them. She's not doing it for me either. I think she's doing it for herself.

She moves to the edge of the swing to rest the guitar on her leg. She takes a couple of deep breaths before strumming the strings, introducing a song I've never heard before. But, then she sings, and the lyrics are so powerful and so personal, that I feel how much they mean to her. You can call me hopeless, whipped, anything you want, but her voice is a lure and I'm swimming like hell for the hook.

Audrey

I close my eyes as if I'm alone and play the only song I know how to play all the way through without error. It reminds me of my dad but, unlike when I learned to play it almost five years ago, I can get through it now without crying. Still, I look down at the strings so that if a tear does escape, I can hide it.

One minute you're my baby girl, in my arms fast asleep

And the next you were a two-year-old, tripping over your own feet

Soon I'd run alongside you, teaching you to ride

And one day I'll sit in the front seat, teaching you to drive

I just want to freeze time, make each moment last a little while longer

Hold on, but each day you make me a little bit stronger

I wanted to keep you my little girl forever, but then I blinked my eyes

I struggle and want to punch myself for playing _this_ song, but I go on. And when I finish, I look up to see Travis misty eyed and Brandyn a blubbering mess. Travis knows what this song means to me, so his reaction is no surprise. But Layne and Miles are just frozen and I wonder if it was the song or if my performance was _that_ bad.

"Hopefully you guys are thinking twice about asking me to do that again." I look into each set of eyes, mocking the fact that I didn't want to play anything to begin with.

"Yes, I am," Miles is the first to speak up, "but not how you think. That was amazing."

Amazing?

"I've heard you play in your room, but I've never heard you play like that. Audrey, I'm speechless," Brandyn says and places her hand on her chest a little over-dramatically.

"Well, anything that can make you speechless is worth doing again," I joke to lighten the mood and we all laugh. "But, I won't. Here you go, sir." I hand the guitar back to Miles.

"Any time you want to play, or sing, with my band," Miles starts, but I hold up my hand to stop him.

"Thank you, but no thank you. I already have two jobs and school. Besides, I just do it for fun. I'm not a _musician_ ," I say, making quotation marks with my fingers.

Layne hasn't said anything yet and, when I sit back down and look at him, he remains silent. Something happened between the time I picked up that guitar and now, and I have no clue what it was. Whatever it is, my instinct is to put space between us, so I pop up from my seat.

"Anyone need a beer?" Three of the four hands go up and I head inside the cabin.

Down in the garage, where the coolers are kept, I load up my arms, grabbing a double round to save another trip. But when I turn to go back upstairs, he's standing there. Part of me wants to jump to conclusions, though I have no idea which ones to jump to, and the other part of me wants to go back to yesterday, when his existence was just a minor annoyance. I do, but I don't, want to know what changed during the last five minutes. All I did was sing a song. I try to go around him but he steps in front of me.

"Layne, please." But he moves too fast.

He places his hands on the sides of my face and crushes his mouth to mine. I'm caught completely off guard, but my body has been wanting this since the day I first saw him. I open for him to finally find out what this arrogant bastard, as I once referred to him, tastes like.

I drop the beers and bring my hands to his chest. I slide them over the muscles that I've only admired through thin cotton shirts, then around his torso to dig my fingers into his back. He tastes of beer and smells of smoked wood from the fireplace. In one word, he's completely intoxicating. He grabs my legs and picks me up, taking a few steps and then setting me down on the workbench behind me.

I bring my hands up to his head, lacing my fingers in his hair and pulling him to me. I'm not a slut, I don't hop in the sack with just anyone, but if he's doesn't stop this, I don't know that I have the power or the will to do so.

But, he does. He draws back from my lips to line his eyes up with mine and just stays there for a long moment. I don't know what he's searching for, but I'm not in any more hurry to let go of him than he is to release me. It seems like forever that we stay that way until finally, he speaks.

"That song. It was for your dad, wasn't it?" he asks, still trying to catch his breath.

"It was his song for me," I answer in a whisper. Travis knew that, but Layne didn't. How he figured it out, I don't know.

"At the risk of losing what's happening between us, I have to admit something to you."

"Should I be nervous?" I ask, my mind already deciding that I should be, but my body doesn't care.

"I don't know."

"Try me then."

"I don't fall for women. I don't do relationships. And I'd like to say that I don't know what's happening to me, but I do. It's you, you're happening to me. I'm doing and wanting all the things that _I_ don't do. It's you, Audrey."

I don't want to believe what I'm hearing. I can't believe that I have this effect on him—I don't want that kind of power.

"Up until twelve hours ago, I wouldn't give you the time of day, and now, I'm changing what you want? That doesn't make any sense, Layne." But it does, and I know because I'm changing too—one that I don't entirely understand.

"Up until twelve hours ago, you wouldn't give me the time of day, but I've wanted it since the night you walked into Sass and Sins." And there they are, the words I always thought I never wanted to hear. "What are the odds that, after all this time, our paths cross twice in a matter of days? That someone who is like a brother to you is one of my best friends? _This_ doesn't just happen."

"Well, what you're telling me you don't _do_ , I've never wanted. I don't know where we're heading, if anywhere, but I'm not good at the relationship thing. I can't promise you anything."

"Neither am I and neither can I." He pauses. "But maybe, just maybe, we can be good at it together."

No man has ever looked at me this way—like he wants more than I can give him in one night.

"This is all happening so fast." I drop my hands and run them through my hair. "I'm not easy, Layne. I'm independent. I have a lot of responsibility, a bad mouth, and no time to spare."

"I love that you're independent and responsible. We'll make time. And that bad mouth you have, well it's one of my favorite things about you." He moves in and kisses me again and I don't fight him. Instead, I melt into him.

There is nothing about any of this that makes sense and we're both taking a huge leap, but it appears that we're taking that leap together.

Layne

After Audrey mentioned wanting to see the sunset on the peak and gave me the mother of all maybes when I suggested we watch it together, my mind started constructing the perfect scene. I want to flatter her, romance her, prove that I can be the man for her. I want her to drop the wall she puts up when she's near me and see that I'm not the guy from the gas station. If I can accomplish that, the rest will write itself. She sang that song and, as beautiful as she sang it, by the time she finished the first verse, I realized it was so much more than just a song. She was sharing a part of herself with us—with me.

I knew then that, perfect sunset or not, I wanted her. Layne Turner is officially whipped. Now I'm asking, almost begging, her to trust me and take this leap with me. I heard her talking to Travis. She doesn't do relationships; well neither do I, but she makes me want to. That's got to mean something—it's got to be a sign.

Her legs are wrapped around me and she's holding me as close as she possibly can. It's taking all I have not to take things to the next level. But unlike every other girl I've had since Mel and I broke up, with Audrey it isn't about one night and I won't let it end in the morning.

She's so sweet and feather-soft that every pass of my tongue leaves me wanting more of her. She's not stopping me but this isn't a sprint to the finish; I will not rush this with her. Our first time together won't be on a workbench in a garage, though thoughts of doing it here do spark some excitement.

I slip my hands underneath her hoodie and graze the bare skin that lies beneath. Her skin is on fire and she moans into my mouth. Then the door from the stairway opens, slamming against the rail of the stairs and startling both of us. We snap to look in the direction of the door and see Travis standing there, surprise written all over his face. We both stay silent, not knowing what to say. He's our friend—how do we explain this? But he saves us both when he speaks.

"I was just wondering what was taking so long—now I know." At first his look is hard to gauge, much like a parent walking in on their only daughter, but it quickly gives way to a smile and I do sense expectance as he does so. "Well, it's about damn time," he says, a smirk on his face.

Neither of us question him, for we know exactly what he means—we've both confided in him. A few minutes more and he could've seen much worse. I look at Audrey out of the corner of my eye and catch her pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. I get it, she's playing shy with Travis in the room, but I hope she knows this is far from over, however paused for the moment.

"I, uh. I dropped the beer," Audrey confesses, which is not inaccurate, but a really weak excuse.

"I was helping her," I add, a lame addition.

He doesn't buy a word but doesn't say it aloud, he just laughs. "Oh well, we were just getting thirsty." He walks closer and picks up the cans that have rolled across the floor. He wipes them on his pant leg and walks over to the cooler where he drops those in and grabs three new ones. Then looks at us both and grins. "Don't mind the interruption." He nods and walks back out the door, pulling it closed behind him.

We both stay there for a minute, shell-shocked. He is one of my best friends and like a big brother to her and, he was rooting for us getting together. But I don't think either of us expected him to walk away with nothing more than a smile. But that's what he did.

I rub my hand over my face and blow out a breath, then look at her as she sits on the work bench, her legs still spread so that I stand between them. I bring my hand to the side of her face and caress her skin as she leans into me.

"Are you okay?" I don't regret one moment that has happened between us but I'll understand if Travis walking in on us left her uncomfortable.

"I'm fine." She smiles up at me. "He seemed a little too okay with that though, didn't he? Like he knew it was going to happen."

It's time to confess.

"I may have talked to him."

Her mouth falls open but she can't hide the smile that plays in her eyes.

"You left me no choice but to call for re-enforcements. I had no idea how to get you to talk to me without snarling!"

"I never snarled," she argues placing her hands on my chest and trying to push me back. But I don't move and when she gives up I shift closer.

"Fine. You growled." I lean closer and kiss her neck. "You hissed." I kiss her again but closer to her jaw. "You called me a lot of Mr.'s." This time she giggles and I pull back to look at her face. "But I'm still here."

"You get an 'A' for perseverance, Mr.—"

But I don't let her finish that one, instead bringing my mouth to hers again. Tonight, I am not one of the many misters she may accuse me of being, but, I _am_ the Mr. kissing her.

Audrey

The rest of the evening is weird to say the least. There are lots of side glances from all three of our friends and a few blatant stares full of questions from the two who didn't walk in on us. But I'm not going to bother to answer any of them, not only because I don't want to, because I'm not really sure I know the answers. The only thing I do know is, when he kissed me, I liked it and it felt right, which may be the very reason I shouldn't trust it. But if life has taught me one thing, it's that nothing is for sure and nothing lasts forever. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? It could all end just as quickly as it began, which will either leave me heartbroken or relieved.

Over and over, I fight the urge to touch him beside me. He's only a few inches away, but after what happened in the garage, it seems like miles. What's going on with me? I said it myself downstairs; it was only hours ago that I wouldn't waste three words on him and, now, the absence of his hand on my bare skin is bordering on agony. I have no explanation. It makes no sense at all. And I'm afraid that if I could make sense of it, it would change everything.

"Let's play poker!" Travis says to end the dead silence we've all been sitting in for the last few minutes and everyone's eyes light up.

"Strip or shots?" Layne asks as he looks to me, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. Yesterday, or even this morning, this would've bugged the shit out of me and added to the list of reasons of why I could justify hating him. But now I see it as exactly what it's meant to be, a man flirting with a woman he's interested in. I blush for a second before giving him my answer.

"Shots," I say, grinning, which gives him reason to lean in and whisper in my ear.

"And I thought you were supposed to be a fun one."

"I am fun. Enough shots will sometimes make my clothes magically fall off. You may just score yourself a two for one," I whisper back.

"Then I think the first one should be a double." He winks and I giggle like a freaking school girl and drop my eyes to the deck. I can't believe the way I'm making this steady one-eighty and falling right into his hands, but I've also never had a guy try so hard. Most stop trying after I put up the wall, but this guy, like a ninja, found a way past it and doesn't appear to be stopping.

"I call fireball and deal first!" I shout as I bring my eyes back up to his. "Are you ready for me to teach you how to lose at poker, Mr. Turner?" I ask smugly.

"The question is, are you ready Ms...." He realizes he doesn't know my last name.

"Scott," I finish for him. He thinks he's a badass. Well, this girl grew up in Vegas and fixing cars wasn't all my daddy taught me to do. Bring it on.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eleven hands in and the twelfth being dealt, I'm sitting across from Miles—who is ten shots to the wind and gave up a hand ago—and Brandyn, who's tailing him with nine down the hatch. They're both giggly and cursing like drunken sailors, while trying to root both me and Layne on. But I can't make out most of what they're saying between the slurring, kissing, and giggling that ensues every couple of seconds. Travis was never any good at poker and tonight was no different; having lost all but one hand, he is now behaving like a sore loser out on the porch, pouting. All I can say is thank goodness all we could find was a one ounce shot glass or everyone would be three sheets to the wind by now, myself included. Layne and I are tied to win and we didn't even bother to deal the other three in this time. A one-on-one showdown is about to commence.

The game is five card stud, jokers are wild. We both have our five and pick them up to peek, careful not to let each other or the drunkards see.

"How many?" I ask since I dealt the hand.

"Two."

I cock an eye at him and, after burning a card, hand him the next two off the top.

Only two huh? He's done very little bluffing so far and he has a pretty good poker face, but something tells me this hand is different. I noticed that he drew his lip between his teeth while he looked at his cards and he's only done that one other time; coincidently, it was one of the times he did bluff and he lost.

I pick my cards back up and look down at the two aces, a three and four of a different suits, and the joker staring back at me. I'm pretty sure I've got this one in the bag, but with his two card take I need insurance.

"I'm taking two as well." I push mine into the discard pile and, after burning one, take two from the deck to replace them. My insides go wild as I see my threesome has become a foursome and I know there's no way I can lose. But I keep my poker face in place so not to give anything away. For all he knows, as he stares low across the table at me, my take was a bust. "So, what do you got, big shot?" I ask, almost too seductively. It must be the booze talking.

"First, I want to set some stakes."

Oh, he's very confident, but where's he going with this?

"I'm listening," I respond apprehensively so that I don't appear arrogant because, really, his stakes don't worry me at all.

"If I win, you go on a date with me to the peak tomorrow night. We'll watch the sunset, dine on whatever we can steal from here," he points to the kitchen, "drink some beers, and witness, what I believe will be, one of the most beautiful things we may ever see together."

Well, when he puts it that way, why wouldn't I want to lose? But as weak as he's already proved he can make me, I feel like I have to put up a bit of a fight. He has to know that's who I am. I'm still that sassy girl he managed to piss off, until yesterday.

"And if I win?" I retaliate.

"I'll do anything you want, you name it, including my loser's shot."

The competitive girl in me—who's holding a family of aces—wants to win but, with the stakes he's set, I think I may win either way.

"You've got a deal. Show me what you've got," I say cocking my head and motioning for him to lay his cards on the table.

He lays down three sevens. I guess it can't get much luckier than that.

"Well played, Mr. Turner," I say to stall showing my cards because I'm still struggling with whether I'm going to follow my hand or my heart. Do I want to win, or do I want to lose more?

"So," he starts, "your turn. Show me yours." I can see the hope in his eyes, not for my misfortune, but for this date looming over us. A date I think I want as much as he does. So the question is, do I admit that I want it or let him think he had to win it?

"I've got nothing," I say tossing my cards face down and into the discard pile so that they'll they mix together, just in case he tries to retrieve them. "You win."

I grab the bottle, fill my shot glass and throw it back, avoiding his eyes but aware that he's watching me. The warmth of the liquid is symbolic of the heat that's cursing through me and prompted by the decision I've made. I'm taking a step in a direction I swore I wouldn't for years to come, deviating from my plan. When the burn subsides and I look back at him, the reflection of the flames from the fire dancing in his eyes is not the only thing I see. His victory is causing those flames to spark.

A fit of giggles catches my attention and I see Miles reaching down to grab Brandyn's hands to pull her up from the floor. She slips from his grasp a couple of times, falling back to the floor and finding it outrageously funny, before managing to hold on long enough to clumsily make it to her feet.

"I think I'd better get this one to bed," Miles says as he pulls her tightly to his side. It's obvious that he's slightly excited, knowing his handful of a woman will undoubtedly become more fun before she crashes. Brandyn fidgets with Mile's face and clothes before leaning close enough to kiss his neck, not a care in the world that people are still in the room. It's easy to see the instant arousal she induces and he ushers them quickly toward the door. "Don't count on us for breakfast," he says as he opens the door and quickly pulls it closed behind him.

And then there were three.

Layne

My eyes haven't left her for one second since she threw her cards down on the table. I don't know if it's harder to believe that I won that hand or what I won with that hand. The concept that I'd have to make a wager to get a date with a girl is new to begin with, but she's different in so many ways and there's no doubt she'll make me work for every moment she'll spend with me. But _work_ never sounded so appealing.

Travis comes back in from the patio holding his arms around himself and his cheeks have turned pink from the cold. "It's damn cold out there," he says walking over to stand in front of the fire. "So, who won?"

"Layne did," Audrey answers, nodding in my direction.

"No way! You beat Audrey?" He turns his attention from her to me.

"I can hardly believe it myself. She plays a mean game." I look over at her again but she turns away. She must know that statement has multiple meanings.

"She learned from the best. Her dad was a hell of a card player and it comes to her as natural as breathing. I'm surprised a schmuck like you is the one who took her down," Travis says, teasing us both.

"I had a bad night is all," she says, defending herself from his brother-like assault. "Even Dad lost a hand every once in a while." She looks down and shakes her head as if trying to shake away a memory. I know from watching Miles that alcohol and memories are not usually the best mixture, but she pops back. "Besides, we were playing for shots, that's almost an incentive to lose."

We all laugh; she's got a point there.

"She gave me a run for my money." I stand up, collect the shot glass and nearly empty bottle from the table, and walk to the kitchen with them.

Travis, finally warm enough to leave the fire, walks over to the table and, seeing my cards still lying face up asks, "So how bad did he beat ya, Sis?"

He reaches for the pile of cards to pick up the ones he figures she discarded, but Audrey moves faster and starts packing them into a pile before he can guess which ones may have been hers. "It's not about how bad I lost. A win is a win, a loss is a loss."

"Well, apparently, that Fireball stole your fire tonight. This party's over, I'm going up to bed." He kisses her on the top of her head and heads up the spiral staircase.

I know the relationship between them is nothing more than family but that doesn't keep the jealousy I've felt since the first time I saw them together at bay. I want to be the one touching her. I want to be the _only_ one touching her. I have this need to possess, protect, and shelter her. It's a behavior I don't understand but not one I'm willing to ignore.

After Travis reaches the top of the stairs and passes out of sight, she looks at her watch then back at me. "I guess I'm going to turn in too." But she doesn't move. Is she waiting for me to give her a reason not to?

"Yeah, me too. I have a long day tomorrow. See, don't get jealous, but I have a date with this really amazing girl. I had to win a hand of poker for her to even give me a chance. I don't want to blow it because I lost too much beauty sleep." The dim light of the flames can't hide the blush that covers her cheeks and that's when I see that, below that sassy exterior, she's just a girl that wants to be talked sweet to and who needs to know she's worth it.

She stands and slowly walks to her room and I hear shuffling before she walks across the hall to the bathroom. I walk over to the futon and situate my pillow and blanket, then backtrack to the kitchen for a glass of water. I find myself staring out of the window at the moon. I hear the bathroom door open and, seconds later, I feel her eyes on my back. I don't turn around hoping that she'll make a move. Seconds pass and, just as I'm about to turn around, she's behind me, touching my back.

"Layne?" Her voice is a whisper but it holds the power of a thunderous roar.

"Yes, Audrey?" I don't turn around just yet.

"I just wanted to say goodnight." I feel the pressure of her hands leave and I spin around just in time to catch her wrist and pull her back to me.

I fight the part of me that wants to do so much more because she's not the woman you rush, she's the woman you savor. I kiss her softly then pull back just far enough to speak. "Goodnight, Audrey."

She looks up at me, her eyes lit by the moon, and rubs her lips together in a nervous gesture. Then, and not because I want to, I let her go and watch as she disappears behind her door.

Beauty sleep will not be had by this man tonight. So tomorrow, I guess I'll just have to rely on my charm.

Audrey

When the sun's rays find their way through the sheer curtain that covers my window, I curse it, for it feels like it was just minutes ago that I fell asleep. Flashbacks of last night looped in my mind and stole sleep from me. The wager, the four aces in my hand, the warmth I felt through the fabric of Layne's flannel shirt when I touched him, and the kiss. He didn't devour me like I expected him to, like I wanted him to; it was soft and more intimate than I ever imagined one kiss could be. With all these thoughts racing through my head and the way they make me feel, I remember this being something I never wanted to happen. I never wanted to lose myself in someone, but I can easily see that happening with him.

I cuddle closer to my pillow and push the curtain out of the way so I can see the landscape that is so perfect, peaceful, and uncomplicated outside. I've always been a city girl, but I become easily mesmerized by the portrait that lies before me. Trees covering hundreds of acres of land. The way their leaves flicker with the breeze seems to be exactly what I need to lull me to much needed sleep.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wake up, sleepy head."

Brandyn whispers melodically in my ear and I smell coffee in close proximity. But I ignore her and refuse to open my eyes.

"Audrey, you can't sleep all day. It's our last full day here."

I know she's not going away until I acknowledge her, so I give in by turning over to see her smiling face. "What time is it?"

"Almost eleven. I had to make your coffee myself because the boys finished the first pot before they left. No guarantee on how good it will be. I've never used a percolator before, I think that's what Travis called it, but I found a jar of instant in the cabinet."

"Thanks." I take the cup and smile because, despite her vanity sometimes, Brandyn's a really good friend. "I can't believe I slept so late." Actually, I can.

"Someone must have had a late night," she sings and gets comfortable as she thinks she's going to get a story out of me.

"Not this someone. I went to bed soon after you left. I just didn't sleep well, that's all." I bring the cup to my lips but she stares at me unbelieving.

"Right. So, what's with you and Layne?"

I'm barely able to prevent my mouthful of terrible coffee from spraying out of my mouth.

"What are you talking about?" I'm feigning ignorance.

"I'm not blind, I saw how you looked at each other, and I may have cornered Travis to ask what had taken the two of you so long to get beer." She looks away but, when she brings her eyes back to me, she's smiling. "And I heard him ask you on a date." Her grin is wide and thirsty for details.

"One, I can't believe you heard the date thing with as drunk as you were. Two, I'm going to kill Travis for telling you about walking in on us kissing on the tool bench, and three..."

Her face lights up and her mouth falls open. I don't think she knew about the kiss but somehow tricked me into telling. "He walked in on you kissing? On a tool bench? Wow!" She bounces on the bed excitedly.

"Wait. He didn't tell you?" I cock an eye at her.

"Nope." Her lips pop as she pronounces the 'P'. "I did corner him, but he wouldn't tell me anything." She shrugs. "So, what's three?"

I can only shake my head and laugh at her. "Well played." She got me there.

"So, the date, when is it?"

"Today."

"Today? Where?" Now I've confused her.

"At the peak. We're going up to watch the sunset together." Just saying it out loud brings warmth to my chest.

"That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard. Why didn't Miles think of that?" She pouts for a second but quickly bounces back, wanting to hound me with more questions. "So, tell me more about this kiss."

"No. Not yet. I don't know where any of this is going, or where I want it to go, for that matter."

She looks at me, deflated, making me want to reach out and touch her for reassurance.

"You'll be one of the first to know."

"I'll settle for being second to Phillip," She says, knowing that Phillip and I have a long history and a bond stronger than blood.

"Deal. Now let me choke down this horrid coffee and get out of bed before the guys get back." And just then, as if they could read my mind, we hear them barrel into the cabin like a herd of elephants.

"I think you're too late," Brandyn says and we both break into giggles.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next couple hours are spent reading on the hammock, but with my mind constantly fluttering to the plans of latter. I'm having to re-read most of it and don't even ask me what it said—no punt at all to the author, I just can't focus. The big question that remains heavy on my mind is, how far do I let this thing with Layne go before it gets so serious that I can't let him go? My life is built around the plan of my career and my independency. I don't want a man to become the backbone of my life. And I think it's dangerous to allow myself to cave, but I feel almost powerless the feelings I have for him.

Dead leaves crunch on the ground as someone approaches, but I don't look up because I already know it's him—I can feel it. He sits down on the hammock, causing it to swing with his weight. He's so close that I can feel his body heat against mine.

"What are you reading?" he asks. The sound of his voice goes right through me and, for the life of me, I can't remember the name of the book.

I flip the book to see the cover and read the title but, like every other word I've read, it doesn't stick in my memory for even a second. "Um, just some book."

"What's it about? Is it one of those smutty romance novels with hot rich men and undersexed college girls?"

"No!" I blurt but realize I can't actually say that I know what it's about. I just started it this morning to try and keep my mind off of tonight. "Well, to be honest, I don't know because it's new and the last couple of hours are somewhat of a blur."

"Well, we can go whenever you want. Travis said we could take the quad since we're not coming back until after dark. I've got my boy scout survival pack and dinner. All I'm missing is the beautiful girl and her camera." He is charming when he wants to be.

"Okay. Let me use the civilized facilities one last time and grab another jacket, then I'll be ready to go." I try to stand up but, hammocks being the unsteady traps they are, I fall back, landing on Layne's lap.

Instinctively, his arms go around me and he brings the hammock to a stop with his legs. My heart is already beating fast from the close call but it speeds up even more when I notice just how close my mouth is to his. I want to kiss him, thoughts of how his lips felt on mine last night quickly coming to mind. The moment seems to last much longer than it actually does while I battle with whether or not to give in, but in the end, I don't. I want him to know that I'm not like other girls, that his smile a baby blues, though enticing, won't win me over. That I don't _need_ to kiss him, not to be confused with _wanting_ to kiss him because I do want to. Like bad.

In the bathroom, I avoid looking at myself in the mirror. I'm not going to doll myself up the way Brandyn would. I'm a _what you see is what you get_ kind of girl and I refuse to let this man who, in one day, has found a way to make my heart flutter and turn my brain to mush, see me any differently. I do, however, grab my toothbrush and give my pearly whites a once over, for I have no doubt the next time our mouths are as close as they were just minutes ago, there will be no fighting it. As far as I'm concerned, I have nothing left to prove to myself or him. It's time to let what will be, be.

Layne

I wait at the quad while she does her thing, making sure that everything is tied down, checking the gas and battery gauge, and the lights. I don't plan on returning until the sun has made its complete exit and the moon has taken its place along with the million stars that can't be seen from within the boundaries of the city lights. I especially want to see those stars while she lies next to me.

I have no idea why or how it happened but, it used to be that I never wanted a girl to stick around, now, I don't ever want Audrey to leave. Her words echo in my mind, _it doesn't make sense_ , and she's totally right, but maybe that's exactly why I should trust it.

I hear the screen door slap closed on the upper deck and watch as she walks down the stairs towards me. She's wearing a button-down flannel and has her hoodie draped over one arm and her camera hanging from the opposite shoulder. For a millisecond, I want to tell her that she won't need the hoodie, that I'll keep her plenty warm but, at the risk of sounding creepy, I keep that line to myself. If I must choose between the asshole category and the creepy category, I think I'll stick with being the asshole; at least then I still have a chance.

"Are you ready?" I ask and she nods. "Hop on," I say and throw my leg over the seat to take my place.

She uses the pedal to boost herself up and slides in behind me. When she's settled, I hand her a helmet. "Better safe than sorry, that road was pretty bumpy in some parts," I say and pull on my own helmet on. I look over my shoulder and, seeing that she has hers on, I say, "Hold on, here we go!"

The first hill is the worst because it's steep and is covered in shale. Audrey, who was content not to hold on at first, notices the incline right away and, as we start up, I feel her arms wrap around my waist and squeeze tight. It makes me wish the whole trail was this way so she'll keep her arms around me. But even once we clear the hill she doesn't let go. The adrenaline her touch creates is much more potent than conquering the mountain.

We follow the path I remember and realize that it's much bumpier on wheels than on foot, but it's still faster and we make it to the peak in about fifteen minutes. We pass through a tunnel created by the trees before pulling out into the clearing just as a deer scurries into the brush. Audrey squeaks behind me.

"Did you see that?" she asks me and I nod in response.

I pull over to park near a rock formation and cut the engine. She immediately removes her helmet and looks in the direction of the deer.

"I think we scared it away," she pouts.

"Probably, but he'll come back. I'm sure he won't mind if we borrow his view for a while." I'd say anything to take away the frown she wears and I'm pleased a shy smile takes its place. "I'll tell you what," I hop off the quad and dig into my bag, pulling out an apple. I toss it up, catching it in my hand, "We'll leave him this." The shy smile I saw just seconds ago returns and it tells me I've done something right.

"I'd have never thought you could be so charming Mr. Turner. Your first impression was less than impressive. I'm coming to think it was all an act," she says confidently.

"Isn't all of life an act? Acting one way with some and differently with others? But I assure you, the asshole you met that day was me. That was me for a long time, but I think it's time for a change." Does she understand that she's the reason for my new way of thinking?

"I suppose you could be right, but I guess that's the difference between me and you. I don't act different for different people. I may act differently depending on how I feel, or the situation I'm in, but I'm always me." I know what she says is the truth; I've seen it first-hand. She hops off of the quad and walks toward the rocks. "How long until sunset?" she asks without looking back at me.

"An hour, maybe an hour and a half. Enough time to eat and find the perfect spot to watch it."

She finally turns to me with a smile and a glint in her eye. "So, what's for dinner Mr. Turner?"

Audrey

Food. It's always a good topic. Whether it be an ice breaker or to route uncomfortable conversation back to a common and neutral ground, food is a good place to start. I feel bad about what I said to Layne about our differences. They exist but, as I look out over the red hills, I wish I could take it back. Not so much what I said exactly, but how it sounded and how he took it. I _am_ always me, I don't act for anyone, but that doesn't mean that _he_ does. He admits to being an asshole, that's who he is, or was, and maybe still is. He doesn't pretend not to be; so why is _just me_ having such a hard time getting over _just him_?

He unstraps and removes his boy scout ready bag from the back of the quad. Then he opens the cargo box and removes a small cooler, a lunch bag, and a blanket. He holds up the lunch bag as if to answer my question of what's for dinner and walks to the other side of the rock. I've no choice but to follow. Surveying the ground, he determines a good spot, sets down the cooler and lunch bag, and lays out the blanket. I feel as though I'm not doing anything, so I grab the other side and help. He moves the cooler and bag to the blanket and sits down, patting the spot next to him.

The sassy girl in me wants to resist, but _I_ just want to be near him, so I take my seat and look at him inquisitively.

"You still haven't told me what you're feeding me," I tease with a playful, but snarky undertone.

"Well, considering that starting a fire up here is not a good idea, I just grabbed every finger food I could find." He opens the cooler and pulls out a beer, cracks it open and hands it to me. Then he reaches back in and grabs another for himself and sets it on the ground next to him. Next, he opens the lunch bag and reaches in pulling out a bag of chips, a can of bean dip, a jar of salsa, a bag of beef jerky, and an apple.

I tilt my head slightly to the side and look at him from the corner of my eye; it's taking everything I've got to keep from smiling.

"It was the best I could do. But most of the major food groups are represented." He picks up each one and names each group and even I can't deny that the only one missing is dairy, which is fine by me. I also can't deny the effort he's put into this environmentally safe meal is the sweetest thing I've ever witnessed. I hold up my beer to make a toast.

"To the most beautiful sunset and the best uncooked meal we may ever share." I finally let my laugh escape as I push my can to his. He laughs too, and his smile reaches his eyes. But then those sparkling eyes are on me.

"To the most beautiful sunset I may ever share with the most beautiful girl to ever call me an asshole." And just like that, the moment is gone, having been replaced by laughter that seems almost too comfortable for two people who only became civilized acquaintances a day ago. But I welcome it and decide that these moments, even if they are the last _we_ spend together, are ones I'll remember for a lifetime.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A six pack later, the suns descent brings with it cooler weather. I realize that bringing my hoodie was a brilliant choice on my part and hurry to pull it over my head. I don't want to miss more than a few seconds of the beautiful show as the sun descends on the horizon. Layne moves beside me, backing up to the rock to lean against it and sitting with his legs propped up and open, leaving an inviting space between them. I can't explain why, but all the sudden I want to be between them and I think the feeling is mutual.

"Are you cold?" he asks softly.

"A little. I'll be fine." Fine. The word women say when they are anything but. Strategic use or avoidance tactic on my part? Even I don't know at this point.

"Come here." He motions to the space between his legs that has held the attention I should be focusing on the sunset. And rather than resist and argue, I go easily and nestle myself between them.

He wraps his arms around me, shrouding me with his warmth, and we sit silent watching the sun meet the earth's edge. Its glow lives on after it's gone, lighting the horizon as if it's on fire. Finally, the fire is extinguished and its light is replaced by the moon's glow. It was, as we both suspected, one of the most beautiful things we've ever witnessed. I don't move, perfectly comfortable with where I am. I must say, I never saw this day coming, especially not with this man.

From where we sit, we can see at least a million stars. I've never seen stars like this and find myself trying to locate the constellations I remember from a field trip to the planetarium when I was twelve. You can't get a view like this from Vegas—too many lights and pollution take away from this beautiful scene. I'm lost in them and the person I'm sharing them with.

After a few moments, Layne fidgets behind me and a quick glance shows his hand buried in his trusty backpack. I look back to the sky. When his hands cross back in front of me, I see he has a flask and is unscrewing the cap.

"What's that?" I ask curiously.

"Boy scout secret," he answers mischievously and I think quickly.

"You carry booze in your pack to get girls drunk in the woods? That sounds way too much like the beginning of a Friday the 13th script."

"You got the carrying booze part correct, but your reasoning is all wrong." He laughs and I can feel his chest vibrate against my back.

"Well, since I'm the girl alone in the woods with you, I insist you tell me the real secret. And if I'm still alive in the morning, I won't tell a soul, cross my heart."

"Well, there are two explanations. The first is that the alcohol can provide temporary warmth if you are stuck or lost in the cold."

I nod seeing how that could be a true statement. "And the other?" I challenge.

"If you drink enough you'll forget that you're lost and cold." He laughs and I can't help but join him.

"Well, Eagle Scout, the first one almost makes sense but I call bullshit on the second. That was obviously thought up by a man."

"Hence why it's a _boy_ scout secret." He brings the bottle to his lips and takes a short swig before handing the flask to me. I bring it to my lips and take a long swig.

It's whiskey, a good one, not Jack or Canadian. My guess is Maker's 46. And the first of his excuses for having it ring true. I feel the burn spread through my body as it goes down. Suddenly I wish I wasn't wearing my hoodie, but I know the warmth will pass.

A few moments of silence, only the sounds of nature around us and neither of us have moved except to pass the flask a couple times more. It's doing its job because I'm definitely starting to warm up. Layne shifts so that his head rests against mine. And suddenly his lips are on my temple, leaving a sweet kiss behind that threatens to set my core ablaze. There's no explanation for why I do what I do next. I'm not drunk, but uninhibited none the less, and somehow that simple sentiment opened up the part of me that can no longer deny that I want more.

I turn to face him, raising myself to my knees and leaving only inches between us. I cup his face, feeling the stubble on his jaw and watching the light of the moon dance in his eyes. His eyes get me every time. He doesn't flinch; he doesn't move at all. He waits, leaving what will come of this moment to me and there's only one thing I want.

I lean in and softly press my lips to his, happy with my choice when they feel just as I remembered. I can't help myself any longer and, with the next kiss, I press harder.

He's let me make the first moves tonight, but now that he knows we're on the same page, he's taking the reins. He pulls me closer to him and I discover that pressed against him is the only place I want to be.

My hands feel their way into his hair then down and over his body searching for skin. I want to be—I need to be closer to him. As if he heard my thoughts, he pulls me closer, and starts kissing my neck. I throw it back further, wanting him to cover every inch of my flesh with his mouth. One of his hands caresses my breast and the sensation of his touch sends bolts of desire directly to my core, causing an instant ache that I know only one thing can sate. I move to straddle him and find that I'm not alone; he is as affected as I am, the proof now firmly pressing against the part of me that needs him. All of him.

I bring my mouth back to his and start to grind softly, fueling a spark that will soon become a fire out of control. I can't help the moans that flow from my mouth to his, which he reciprocates. His touch on my breasts goes from feather-light to kneading, which feeds the flames inside me. I don't know how he does it and I don't care. He lifts me in one fluid motion to lay me on the blanket-covered ground, putting me beneath him. He's staring into my eyes, begging for permission to go further, to take more of me.

I nod and reach out to lace my fingers in his hair, pulling him to me again, needing to taste him and knowing that as soon as I do, I'll forget every reason I could conjure to stop this moment. This man is tearing down every wall I ever erected, making me forget every reason I'm so protective of my heart, and convincing me that I should let him in.

He pulls back and his eyes glisten with the light of the moon, then he softly kisses my lips once more before placing the next kiss at the corner of my mouth. He follows the line of my jaw to just below my ear, then continues down my neck and to the center of my throat where he's stopped by my hoodie. Without a second of thought I grab the bottom of it and start to pull it up, but he stops me and takes over. I want him to be the one to undress me, the one in charge of this moment. All I need to give him is my permission.

He pulls the garment over my head, then tucks it under me to act as a pillow. I grin at him to let him know that the gesture is appreciated and revel in the lust that never leaves his eyes. He returns his lips to my neck and I tip my chin to allow him more access. This time I'm not stopping him, I want this as much as he does. He continues his way down my collarbone until he meets the top swell of my breast, where the top button of my shirt lies undone.

He nudges my shirt open more and the cool air pricks at my heated skin like pins before his warm mouth and strong hands replace it. Every part of me is screaming for more, begging to feel him, wanting to be touched, but there's one place that needs him so much more than any other.

"Layne," I whimper as his teeth bite my nipple through my shirt.

"Yes?" His voice is low.

I feel like I've lost my voice and can't say what I want, but I want it so bad.

"Tell me Audrey, tell me what you want."

I pick my head up to look at him and see that he'll go no further if I can't say the words. His eyes are burning with the desire that consumes me and I don't think I'll be able to live with myself if I let this moment slip away.

"I want you. I need you. Right here, right now."

Layne

I move up her body so we are eye to eye and search her face for any reluctance. There's not a trace.

"I want you to know that this is not why I brought you here. I had no hidden agenda. I brought you here to spend time with you, have the worst dinner ever with you," she giggles, "and get to know you. I never expected—"

"I didn't expect this either, but here we are." Her eyes are heavy with lust.

"You are so beautiful. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about this moment—"

She hushes me by pressing her finger to my lips. "So, have I. Do you have protection with you?"

I'm surprised by the question and a little embarrassed to answer. "Boy scout secret. You just never know what you'll find in the woods, or who."

"Okay then." She pulls me back to her and our mouths meld together.

This is reckless, but I want it so bad that I won't be the one to stop it. I've never wanted any girl like I want her and with her I care as much about her pleasure as I do my own. This is dangerous because I know that by taking this step forward, I'll never want to retreat. But regardless of how reckless or dangerous it is, it feels right, and for a guy who hasn't felt anything in a long time, that speaks volumes and it's a notion I can't ignore.

One thing's for sure, I won't rush one second. I want to savor the taste of her, her warmth as it fills the space between us. I want this to last until the sun that we just watched disappear makes its next appearance, bringing its cycle full circle. Her fingers hold tight to my hair, ensuring that I can't move too far away and her legs have turned themselves into a vice around my waist.

I press against her, growing harder and knowing as she moans into my mouth that she's right there with me. I want more, so much more. I want to taste her skin, I want to feel and touch other parts of her body that will drive her wild.

It probably only confirms what she already thinks—that I'm an asshole that thinks with the head in my pants, rather than the one on my shoulders—but I have actually dreamt of the moment I'd get to kiss her breasts. Now that the moment is upon me, I just want to take my time. I nuzzle my mouth between them and stretch out my tongue to meet her skin, then I drag it up all the way up to her neck and end with kissing the underside of her jaw. She whimpers, which only makes me want to repeat the motion, which I'm glad to do.

She arches her back, raising her breasts to me and I can easily feel her hard peaks through the fabric of her shirt. Then she bucks her hips ever so slightly, pressing her heat firmly against my hardness and causing a painful but welcome ache to spread. I don't want to rush but don't know how much longer I can last.

"You're driving me crazy," I whisper into her ear. "It's getting harder to take my time with you."

"There's plenty of time to take it slow later," she responds before placing her mouth on my neck and biting it lightly then drawing back to speak again. "If you want me like I want you, stop making _us_ wait."

With those words, I'm a goner.

Audrey

Layne pushes himself to his knees and removes his shirt, in spite of of the dropping temperatures. Though I thought it impossible, the sight of his body sends another sharp pang of hunger through me. I waste only a second to question my actions before dismissing them. My thinking may be a bit compromised, overpowered by my skyrocketing libido and the absence of inhibition, but I want so badly to feel his weight on me as he buries himself inside me. I want his mouth on mine, swallowing my cries of pleasure and mixing them with his own.

He reaches down and, starting with the bottom button, undoes each one until he lays my shirt open and exposes my bra covered breasts. He's wanted this; it's easy to see. He's probably pictured me like this a dozen or more times never knowing if this day would ever come. But here we are and despite my resistance, deep down, I've been longing for it too. In one way or another, he's consumed my thoughts since our first encounter.

He touches my bare skin and it feels as if lava is running through my veins. Every inch of me wants to feel his touch, but there's one place that craves it more than any other. I feel guilty for rushing what he is obviously trying to make a sensual moment, but if he doesn't seal this deal soon, I might explode.

"Layne, please," I beg hoping that he can sense just how desperate I am. Desperation is not something I show often, but this man has me at his mercy. I need him like an addict needs a drug.

I reach for the button on his jeans and, before he can try to stop me, it pops free and I take my assault to the next level. I pull down his zipper and spread the fly until the only thing separating me from the part of him I crave is a layer of thin cotton. He just looks at me, desire in his eyes, and his intoxicating scent draws me to him like a moth to a flame.

I graze my fingertips over him; he shivers at my touch but never takes his eyes from mine. I love that I have this control over him and I feel the need to test it. I sit up so that I can reach what I crave and cup him. He releases a sigh and allows his head to fall back just slightly but quickly brings his eyes back to mine. I lick my lips and bring them to his skin just above the band of his underwear.

His breathing increases, so I move both of my hands to his hips and pull him closer. In one quick move, he grabs both my hands, pushing me on my back, and pinning them above my head. I'm not sure what he's up to but I'm confused and excited by his actions. What guy wouldn't want a girl's mouth on him?

"Why did you stop me?" I ask staring into his eyes, trying so hard to read them.

"Because this isn't about me. This is about you."

I'm, confused. He must see it.

His eyes burn into mine and he asks me, "What do you want, Audrey?"

"Right now, all I want is for you to feed this fire inside me."

He searches my face and turns serious. "Why me?" Unlike the man I once thought he was, he won't go any further unless he knows I'm sure this is what I want, but I've never been more sure of anything in my life.

"Because you're the man who set it. It's only fair that you nurture it," I answer, knowing one hundred percent that this moment is meant to be.

Still holding my hands, he brings his mouth to mine. It's fierce and full of the passion both of us have been holding back, but the time has come to let all of it go. He frees my hands and skims the sides of my breasts, my waist, and my hips as he works his way down. He grabs hold of my jeans and pulls them free from my body. Then he pulls me to sit up and reaches behind me to unfasten my bra and smoothly pulls it down my arms as I lie back down. I'm hiding nothing as I lie bare before him and, though I'm completely naked and lying so close to the edge of a cliff, I haven't felt so warm and so safe in years.

He makes the final move to free himself of his pants, then reaches into his trusty bag. Finally, he settles himself between my legs and brings his mouth to mine. This kiss is softer and sweeter than the last and with so much passion that the temperature rises between us. He reaches between us and I can feel him at my entrance, so close to giving me what I want, what I need. With his lips on mine, he presses himself inside me and it's both nothing and everything that I imagined it would be.

He's turning out to be everything I was afraid he would be. How can this man that I wanted to hate two days ago be turning out to be all I could ever want? Maybe even everything I could ever need.

Layne

Audrey clenches onto my shoulders, digging her nails into my skin, and the moans that escape her are music to my ears. I'm fighting the urge of release because I'm not ready for this to end. She pulls me to her and lays kisses on my chest, causing my body to pulse. I want to lose control but I won't do it without her.

"I want you to cum with me. I'm holding on by a thread."

She looks up at me and winks. I have no clue what to make of it until she reaches down, grabs my ass, and pulls me tight against her. She grinds against me, holding me tight and deep inside her, and I match her movements the best I can. She starts to tighten around me and I don't move, not because she's not allowing me, but because I'm so lost in the sensation of her that I don't want to.

As she pulses around me, I lose control. I break free of her grip and follow through with short, hard strokes until she cries out and I release all I've been holding back. I collapse on top of her with my face in the crook of her neck and I kiss her cool skin. She brings her hand to my head and runs her fingers through my hair, holding me close. We lie there until the heat we created has diminished and the chill of the night sets in.

I lie beside her and pull her as close as I can, then I pull the blanket over the two of us. I lie there, looking up at the moon and listening until I notice her breathing has evened out and I know that she's fallen asleep. Knowing that I'll wake up with her in my arms, I finally close my eyes certain that no dream will come close to what I just lived.

What is she doing to me? I've never wanted a woman to be there in the morning, but with her, I'm wondering how I'll even make it through a night without her back home. She's so special that I hardly think she deserves the likes of me, but there's not a chance I'm walking away.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stir awake in the morning to the sound of footsteps, which are the last thing I expect to hear. Audrey is still asleep, though the sun has begun to rise and pass through the leaves of the trees. I listen as the steps come closer and stop a few feet away. Without disturbing her, I lift my head to look around and see movement on the other side of the quad. I figure it's just an animal, but then I see Travis, who stops in his tracks when he sees us.

I bring my hand to my face and sigh loudly. I'm not ready to face him. He is one of my best friends, but he's also the closest thing to a brother that Audrey has. Even though he played a part in her giving me a chance, I'm sure that catching us wrapped up in nothing more than a blanket together is probably not what he expected. I'm also sure that my friendship with him now takes a backseat to my relationship with her.

I take a second to figure out how to get up without waking Audrey, but with Travis standing there watching, there's no way without exposing us both. "Give me a minute."

He turns and I can hear his steps getting farther away. I lean in and leave a kiss on Audrey's shoulder before flipping off the blanket. I move quick to grab my jeans, pulling them on commando, then do the same with my shoes and walk toward him with my shirt in hand.

He turns to me and I'm immediately trying to gauge the unreadable look on his face.

"Look, I—" I start.

"You don't have to explain. I played both sides of the fence to get you two together because I knew you'd be good for each other."

"Then why do I feel like seeing us together just now pissed you off?"

"I wasn't pissed. I was relieved. When you two didn't come back last night all the worst cases worked their way into my mind. I slept for shit because of it."

"I'm sorry. It wasn't the plan, I promise."

"That's a damn good thing too because I'd punch you in your fucking mouth right now if it was and you left me hanging." He appears serious but then cracks a smile. "I'm happy for you two. Just don't hurt her."

"I won't." For the first time ever, I know _I_ won't be the one causing harm. If anything, I'm afraid I'll end up hurt. That's a new and terrifying feeling for me.

"I'll see you guys down the mountain. We need to pack up and head out in a few hours in order to make it home by dinner."

"We'll be down soon." I turn back and walk to where I left Audrey lying to see her sitting with the blanket wrapped around her chest. "Good morning beautiful. I'd hoped to be here when you woke up." She looks like an angel with the sun shining on her golden hair.

"Where were you?"

"Travis was checking up on us since we didn't come back last night. He saw us and was giving me the big brother warning."

Her face falls into her hands while she shakes her head and mumbles inaudible words.

"Audrey, I can't hear you." I sit down behind her and pull her back against my chest.

"Layne, I—" She stops and looks toward the endless hills before us.

"What? Talk to me."

"You. What are you doing to me? Last night—"

I stop her because I can't stand to hear the words I'm afraid are about to fall from her lips.

"Last night was a mistake? Is that what you were going to say? Because I—"

Her head snaps towards me and her eyes find mine. "No, that's not what I was going to say. Nothing happened that I didn't want. It was beautiful. Amazing even. Like nothing I've ever experienced. I just, I don't do this kind of thing." She looks away.

"Me neither," I say twisting so I can put my hand to her chin and turn her to look at me again. "So, I guess the better question is, what are we doing to each other?"

"To be honest, I'm a little scared to find out." I know the words aren't meant to hurt me, she's just being honest and I expect no less from her.

"I'm not." I brush my thumb over her bottom lip. "Not at all. That tells me that you may be the girl I've been waiting for my entire life."

"I'm not sure I'm ready for this, Layne. For you—for us." She searches my eyes and I don't know if it's to find the truth or a lie.

"I'll wait for you to be ready, forever if I have to."

A smile pulls at her lips and I lean in to kiss her. She turns, allowing the blanket to fall, uncovering her breasts as her hands circle my neck.

Travis can wait. The ride home can wait. Right now, with her, is the only moment that matters.

Audrey

As we come down the hill, I see Travis and the others waiting outside, near the truck. The look on Travis' face tells me he's annoyed and it's, no doubt, due to the fact that Layne and I took two hours to show up. Let's just say that we got lost in each other, in the woods. Brandyn, however, is looking at me with that _I know what you've been doing_ look and a wink that means later she'll be expecting every detail.

Layne and I take to unloading the quad and, once it's empty, Travis impatiently moves it into the garage. I follow him, sure that if anyone can calm this attitude of his, it's me.

"Travis, what's the matter? Why are you so upset?" I ask with as little attitude as possible, which is not my normal approach.

"I'm not. I was just up half the night worrying about you. I got probably three hours of sleep and now I have to drive another three and a half hours to get us home, _and_ go to work tomorrow."

I love him, but he's acting like a little bitch right now.

"Look, I'm sorry we got back so late today and that we stayed out last night. But I don't understand why you were so worried; you encouraged me to give him a chance. Is there something you're not telling me?" My chest tightens while I wait for his answer.

"No." He lowers his tone and starts acting like the Travis I know and love. "Layne's one of my best friends—I just didn't expect you to give in so quick. I expected you to play hard to get, you know, ease me into the idea that my best friend is sleeping with my little sister. It just caught me off guard."

"You and me both. I don't know what's happening and, though it scares me a little, somehow I trust it."

He comes over and pulls me into a one-armed hug, squeezing me in that big brother way. "As long as you're happy, Audrey. That's all I'll ever want for you."

"Thank you, Trav. Why don't you ask Layne to drive home so you can take a nap?"

He squeezes me again. "That's a great idea, but I get shotgun. Go get your stuff ready, let's get out of here."

I run up the stairs and into my room. I change my shirt, throw all my things into my bag, and make the bed before heading back down, ready to hit the road. As I walk up, I see Travis toss Layne the keys and the words, _here, you drive home_. I throw my bag in the back and a smile plays on my face at hearing him take my advice. Layne looks at me and motions to the passenger seat.

"Travis called shotgun. I'm fine in the back. I'll just sit behind you and make goofy faces at you in the mirror."

"Any face you make will be beautiful." He leans in to kiss me and our lips are almost touching when I hear Brandyn giggle from behind me.

"I think I can figure out what was going on in the woods all by myself."

I don't turn to her but, rather, keep my eyes on Layne, sure that he'll appreciate my next words. "Not even _your_ imagination is _that_ good my friend."

He smiles that sweet but sexy smile and then I lean in and claim the kiss that was interrupted.

Everyone piles in the truck and we hit the road that will take us home and back to the reality we've escaped these last few days. Will the things that started on that mountain end or are they just the beginning? Am I ready to take this chance, forsaking the road I intended to follow? Is Layne going to make me weak and fragile like my father made my mother? And finally, if I let him get too close, will it break me when he's gone? These are the questions I contemplate as we get closer to home.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unfortunately, I've let my thoughts consume me and by the time we pull into Layne and Miles' driveway, my one and only thought is to run, to get away as quickly as possible. The way Layne looked at me in the mirror so many times on the way home told me he was invested in seeing what the future might hold for us and made me question if I wanted the same. Like always, I'm allowing my fear of rejection and dependence to win above what's happening between us. We're not on the mountain anymore, in a fantasyland of sorts, and I'm already thinking that if I don't stop this now, one day I'll end up hurt.

I hop out of the truck, grab my bag from the back and make a b-line for Brandyn's car but, of course, she's playing out the long, dramatic goodbye scene with Miles. I'm happy for her but it leaves me to think of what I'm so desperate to stop from happening to myself. Thankfully, Layne is helping Travis unload the rest of the bags and he hasn't noticed the distance I've put between us, or so I thought.

Travis comes over to me when they're done and pulls me into a hug. "I'm heading home, sis. Thanks for coming with us. We'll have to do it again soon."

"Absolutely." I squeeze him tighter and hold him a second longer because I can see Layne coming up behind him and I don't know what I'm going to say to him just yet. I wish I didn't have to say anything right now, but Travis lets go. On his way to his truck, he gives Layne a bro fist-punch, then he's gone. It's time to face the music.

Layne walks up to where I stand and I take a step backwards, pressing myself against the car. He comes closer until his body is flush with mine and I have nowhere to go. Then he leans in. I want to kiss him but, if I do, I'm easily back to square one. So I turn my head away, knowing that I might as well have just slapped him in the face.

"Audrey?" His voice is low and hurt. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I... I've been thinking—" my thoughts are so jumbled with what I want to say and have to say being totally different things. "Look, what happened up there was amazing, but..."

"But what? You think last night was just a fling, a one-night stand? That now that we're back home we should go back to what we were?" Why am I doing this to him? Why am I doing this to myself?

"I don't, but I didn't want you to think that it, that we— God, I'm fucking this all up! I don't expect anything more from you. You owe me nothing and that includes explanations."

"That's good because I don't have any. Everything that happened between us was real and I thought it was the start of something more. God, Audrey! You're like Jekyll and Hyde. I want the you that seemed to think there was a chance for us back, the girl who gave herself to me on that cliff. As soon as you quit fighting this thing between us, you won't have any explanations or excuses either." And with that, he walks away.

It's what I thought I wanted but now that he has turned away, I wish I could take it all back. I wish I could, but I don't.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm finally walking in the door of my house after a silent drive home. It's not that Brandyn didn't ask questions, I just couldn't answer them. I've never been more messed up over a guy than I am right now and I don't want to talk about it because I don't know what to say. The more I think about his words, the more every part of me is screaming to go back and never let him go, but I can't. For the first time, in a long time, I don't know what to do.

Usually, I'm greeted by Bessie after being gone more than a day, but she's nowhere in sight. Wouldn't that just figure? One of the most screwed up days in my life and my cat's not even there for me. Whatever. I need one of my showers, a couple of beers, and my bed. With any luck, I'll wake up in the morning and find that this has all been a bad dream and that my feelings for Layne Turner never really existed.

I walk to my bedroom door and see that it's shut. That's why Bessie didn't come to see me! I shake my head—Tiffany knows better than to shut the door. Irritated but too mentally exhausted to care, I open the door to find Phillerup lying on my bed and Bessie snuggled up at his side. He has a wicked grin on his face.

"Welcome home, Audball."

I'm happy to see him and find myself instantly drawn to the comfort I know I can find with. He's my rock, strong and steady. He's just who I needed right now.

"I thought you didn't like pussy?" I joke in that way we do and throw my bags on the floor.

"Only this one," he says scratching Bessie's head. "I'm strictly dickly."

I smile at him, loving how he is able to make me forget everything else for a little while and I crawl up on the bed to cuddle his other side, but even that comfort will be short lived today because he will do what's completely natural—ask questions.

"So, how was your weekend?"

"Why? Why would you ask me that?" I snap.

"Alright, out with it. And don't tell me _nothing_ because I can read you like a book. What, or shall I ask _who_ , __ has you so pissy?"

Layne

I never thought I'd describe myself as butt hurt, but here I lay on my bed, tossing a ball against the ceiling to keep myself from calling her. I'm pissed and I'm hurt. Did she honestly think that the other night was a just fling, that I'd go to all that effort for one night? Unfortunately, it's a familiar behavior I've expressed before and has me thinking about all the times I may have done this same thing to the girls I'd been with. I'm not saying that every woman I've ever slept with necessarily wanted more, but if they did, did it feel like this when I tossed them away?

She hasn't texted or called, so I have to believe that she really thought that night was all an act even though I never gave her one reason to. It may have been for her, but for me it was different. For the first time ever, it was something real. It's been three days, three of the longest days of my life and, still, all I can think about is her. I haven't been able to focus on anything else. I haven't left the house in three days; hell, I haven't even showered in two of them. I've got to snap out of this. I need to fly.

I pick up my phone from the nightstand, hoping that I'll see a missed alert. When I don't, I scroll through my contacts until I find the number I want and dial it. It rings twice before there's an answer.

"Charlie here."

"Charlie, it's Layne Turner."

"Layne, what can I do for you, kid?"

"I need you to get the logs out and get her ready. I need to get off the ground for a while."

"You got it. Are you taking up a lesson? I can have her ready in an hour."

"Nope, just me today. Thanks Charlie."

Just me, my thoughts, and the open skies.

I get up, shower, and get ready to go. My energy is renewed with the thought of doing the only thing I've ever really loved and happy that for a few hours I'll be able to get Audrey out of my mind. It's been a while since I went up by myself and know that it's exactly what I need. I grab a water bottle from the fridge and my keys and head for the door but, when I pull it open, I come face to face with none other than _hers_ —and, no doubt, she's here to crush me even more.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the last half hour, I haven't thought about her, having replaced her with my plans to fly. Now, she's right here in front of me and I'm somehow back to square one. She's so beautiful, even in light of what she's put me through and I can tell she's nervous about being here. But all that matters to me is that she's here; unless, of course, she's here to stomp my nuts with her boots again.

"Audrey." I try to sound as though her standing on my front step has no effect on me at all.

"Hi," she says timidly, raising her hand to wave. "Do you have a minute?"

"I'm actually on my way out." I can't allow myself to cave every time she comes around.

"I only need a minute." I nod for her to go on. "Layne, I need to say I'm sorry. I don't let myself get attached and after just one night with you, I felt it happening." She looks down at her fingers that are fidgeting with her keys, then back up at me. "I know it wasn't a one-night stand. I know that every second of it was real and that what I felt was too, and that scared me. I don't expect you to understand or forgive me, but I just wanted you to know that I never meant to hurt you."

I believe her and I also believe that she's not the type of person that feels she needs to explain herself. But I still don't know if she's just here to say sorry or if she wants to give _us_ another chance. But since she's here and trying to be honest with me, I think I owe her the same.

"I'd like to say you didn't hurt me, but you did. I told you that night in the basement that I don't do relationships and in the same breath I said there was something about you and us that felt right. I thought you agreed."

She takes her lips into her mouth in that way that drives me crazy and I can't stop myself from moving closer and bringing my hand to her face and my thumb to her lips. She looks up at me and I know I have her attention.

"Do you want this with me or not? And before you answer, please be sure, whether it's yes or no. If you say no, I'll let you go, but if you say yes, I may never be able to again."

She doesn't take her eyes away from mine but I can see she's weighing each of the two options very carefully. Whether her answer is in my favor or not, I hope she knows that I mean what I say. She has a power over me but I won't be her puppet.

"What you do to me scares me, and it isn't part of my plan, but I want it—I want you."

I stare deep into eyes that are begging me to believe her words and I can see just how honest they are. She's giving me a piece of her heart, something she may have never done before, and she's scared that I'll break it. The part of me that's been nearly dying for three days suddenly feels more alive than ever.

She brings both of her hands to my neck and pulls me to her. Our lips connect and, in that instant, I remember every single time I've kissed them and how afraid I was that I'd never kiss them again. She pulls back and looks at me, a smile on her face.

"Wait, you said you were on your way out. Can I see you later, maybe dinner?"

"How about you come with me now?" I ask, sure to hide how excited I'll be if she says yes.

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

Audrey

I get in the car and, unlike the last time, it feels like a place I belong. Layne maneuvers the streets of Henderson, finally taking us on the freeway. I have no idea where he could be taking me but I'm excited that he would want to go anywhere with me after the way I acted when we returned from the cabin. I intended to, and thought that I had, blown it—ruined any chance I had with him. Thankfully, Phillip made me see that I made a mistake and pushed me to follow my heart. He made me realize that the moments with Layne left impressions so deep in my heart that even in his absence, he was there. I'd never be whole if I didn't give us a chance. I'd always wonder, maybe even regret my choices.

I don't want to _need_ Layne, that's the root of my fear. I'm afraid of getting too close—of letting him get too close—and afraid he'll be able to break me. But more than I'm afraid of breaking, I'm afraid of never knowing. The last three days have been torture as the memories of our night together refuse to quiet. I may not want to _need_ Layne, but I do want him.

Conversation is scarce between us as we make our way under the Spaghetti Bowl, which is a very fucked up piece of freeway that was under-built back in its day. Whoever thought you could build a couple dozen casinos in the middle of the desert and keep the town an under-inhabited secret was a fool, hence why everything but the casinos are under-built in this town. But none of these ill facts have made me or the other six hundred thousand people leave yet. Somehow living here makes me feel smarter than its founders.

Exiting the freeway, we enter a side of town that I don't frequent but recognize, and follow that road for a couple of miles. We're not talking much; I'm really far from home, I have no idea where I'm going, and the end result is a surprise—I'm starting to get nervous. Did I piss off the wrong guy? My mind starts going into planning mode just in case my surprise is not a good one. Maybe he's a closet psycho. I'm taking in my surroundings, remembering directions, looking at street signs—everything I learned in self-defense class, hoping that I won't need any of the information but prepared none the less.

We near a light and he pulls into the right-hand turning lane. I look at the sign, then at him. Airport Drive?

"We're almost there," he says as he reaches over and grabs my hand. "Are you okay, Audrey?" He must feel my tension.

"I'm good," I say, unconvincingly.

"Relax. You're going to love this, or at least I hope you will." He squeezes my hand.

We follow the road until he turns and pulls into a parking area. I see hangers, airplanes, and some helicopters. I have no idea why we're here but I'm fascinated by being so close to things you usually only see in the sky. He cuts the engine and lets go of my hand. Then he gets out of the car and comes to my side.

"What are we doing here?" I ask as he opens my door.

"You'll see. Come on." He grabs my hand and pulls me with him to one of the hangers, stopping to ask someone where Charlie is. When that person points toward one of the hangers a little further down, Layne pulls me along and I follow, intrigued by what I'm seeing. The planes we pass are nothing like commercial planes. I've only ever been so close to planes like this at the air shows on Nellis Air Force Base with my dad when I was kid.

He stops in front of one of the planes and engages in conversation with a man who has shaggy, curly hair and reminds me of Sammy Hagar. I'm looking at the planes in awe and wondering what in the world are we doing here, but I get the smallest of clues when the shaggy guy says "She's all ready to go."

She's all ready to go where? Layne must register the confusion on my face because he thanks and dismisses the shaggy guy and turns to me. "This is Amanda," he motions to the plane. Amanda? "She was my grandfather's and he named her for my grandmother."

"And what does she," I say, feeling weird referring to a plane in a human fashion, "have to do with the surprise?"

He comes close and stares into my eyes. I feel that connection we had at the cliff, the one I'm so damn scared of—the connection that trusts him completely.

"I'm going to take you flying."

"Flying?" I shake my head. "Are you serious? Do you know how to fly?"

"You know so little about me, a fact we need to change," he teases. "Yes, I know how to fly, and it was the thought of _flying_ that made me stop thinking about you for the first time in three days. Then you showed up and now, not only do I want to fly, I want to fly with you."

I'm processing his words, and, honestly, I've never been touched so deeply by a man's words. This man is literally going to sweep me off my feet—by way of plane. I'm excited, I'm nervous, but most of all, I'm elated that he would choose to share this with me—something so special and so personal. So of course, I respond with the corniest line ever said outside of a Hollywood film.

"I'd love to fly with you."

He pulls me in close for a kiss.

When he releases me, he grabs a bag out of the plane and tells me to hang tight while he does his pre-check. I watch on as he looks carefully over the wings, the propeller, and the engine. Then, finally, he grabs my hand and pulls me over to the plane. He opens the door and lends a hand to help me in. He follows by jumping into his seat beside me and calling my attention to the seatbelt and headphones. I follow his lead, and the next time I hear his voice it's like listening in stereo.

"Are you ready?"

I shake my head and smile, too excited to speak.

He starts the engine, revving it up, then bringing it back to idle. I've been into cars since I was a teen but never imagined that a plane could excite me the same way. He starts talking to the tower again, while I look out the window, barely hearing anything he's saying. He's giving them numbers and speaking in a fashion that I find cryptic. The controller calls out numbers and directions, a few that he jots down in a notebook and, eventually, we start to roll forward. Layne maneuvers us around, following lines on the pavement, until we're positioned with a long strip of road before us. Then resumes his conversation with the tower.

I'm in awe of the entire scene because it seems so unreal. When does this ever happen in real life? But as I wonder if maybe this is just a dream, I hear the words that make my heart beat a little faster, and I know that I am really here, I'm wide awake, and there is no doubt this _is_ really happening.

"Ready for takeoff."

Layne pushes buttons and flips switches, I lose track of how many, then places his hands on a steering wheel that's similar to the video games at the arcade. I have one in front of me too, but I'm careful not to touch it. Then, while I'm wondering how he can possibly know all of this, we start to move. We gain speed and my heart is doing this thing where I'm sure it's going to explode, but not because I'm afraid; quite the contrary, I'm excited as hell. Out of the corner of my eye I see him slowly pull the steering wheel toward him and I feel the front of the plane come up. Seconds later, the wheels leave the ground and I watch in amazement as the ground below us gets further away. But, crazy enough, I realize that I'm not as amazed by the view in front of me as I am by the man who's beside me making it happen.

I look over at Layne as he focuses on the emptiness in front of us, every once in a while talking to the tower and calling out numbers. As I watch him, I come to understand his words from earlier. The thought of _this_ made him stop thinking about me for the first time in days. It brought him peace from the pain I caused him. I can totally understand that; he's so in his element. But what I can't figure out is, what it is about me that could cause him that much pain to begin with? Why would he allow me that much power over him in such a short period of time? I'm so far into unknown territory that nearly every aspect of falling for him scares the shit out of me and my first reaction is to run. But seeing him now and sharing something so special to him, with him, makes me want to stay.

Layne is telling me about airspace and elevations—things people like me pay little or no attention to—and while he does, I look back out at my city. It looks so drab when touched by the light of day—no bright dancing lights to pull you in. Nope, during the day it looks like every other city in the desert—brown and boring. Though the view of the city does nothing to excite me, I can see mountains in the distance that hold the promise of something more beautiful. I reach out and touch Layne's arm and he turns to me.

"Amazing, isn't it?" It's weird hearing his voice through the headphones yet, also, directed at me.

"It is. Is that Lake Mead over there behind those mountains?" I point in the direction and he follows, turning back to nod his head.

"Do you want to see it?"

I nod and smile back at him like he just offered me the world.

"You got it!"

Layne

For the first time in three days, I feel alive and it's not just being in the sky. As much as I love this feeling, I can't and won't deny that Audrey's the reason behind it. I, Layne Turner, am a total goner for the girl sitting next to me. No woman has ever made me feel like Audrey does.

With Audrey, it's different. I can see past tonight and the next few months, and I can still see us. I have no idea where we'll end up or how long it will last, but I know that I don't want it to ever end. I don't want to spend any more time feeling like I did the last three days, like a part of me was missing. I don't want her to ever question my intentions again. This relationship may not work, but I'm not going to give up until I know and, even then, I'm willing to fight.

She's looking out the window, taking everything in but, as soon as she sees the water, she comes to life. It's sad really, how much the water at Lake Mead has gone down. A ring nearly thirty feet tall runs along its border and marks the water loss over the last ten years or so. But even with all that's been lost, the wonder of one of the largest man-made lakes in the United States remains. The way she looks at it now, I can tell she's not just in awe of its existence; this place is special to her.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" I ask to break the silence between us.

"It's amazing," she whispers as she raises her hand to the window. "I haven't been here in years and I've definitely never seen it like this."

"I was never much for the water. I preferred the sky."

She turns to me and laughs. I want to hear her story; why she hasn't been here in so long and why is it so special?

"I take it you used to spend a lot of time on the lake?"

"My sister was the girly girl. I was the son my father never had. Fishing, cards, working on cars—early mornings when the fish were biting make up so many of the memories I have of him."

"It's nice that you have those memories."

She looks into my eyes and, in that second, I can feel her emotions as if they were my own.

"They're worth more to me than all the money in the world." Her eyes start to glisten and I reach out to take her hand. She smiles before looking back out the window and I concentrate on the sky ahead, giving her a few minutes with her thoughts. Slowly, I steer away and, in a few minutes, the water is completely out of site. She tries to hide it but I catch her swiping tears from her eyes. Then she reaches over and places her hand on my arm. "Thank you for that."

"You're welcome. We can do this any time you want, you just tell me when." She nods. "You know what, I'm starving. Are you hungry?"

"Are we going to the fly thru?" She starts laughing at her joke and, though it was pretty corny, I'm just glad to see her so relaxed, as if being with me is something she actually wants.

"Good one, but I'm not that talented. I'm talking dinner, wherever you want."

"I'll think about that, you just get us back on the ground."

"Deal."

We land and I taxi the plane up to the storage hangar where Charlie waits to take over and get Amanda put away. He chats with Audrey while I fill out my logs and then I join her and we walk toward the car.

"So, what's for dinner?" I ask, hoping maybe she'll pick something romantic so I can spend more time with her.

"It's a surprise, just drive." She smirks, opens the passenger door, and steps inside.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Of all the places in Vegas, I never thought you'd pick this for our first official dinner date—though I'm not complaining."

"I could eat Roberto's everyday if my hips would let me," Audrey says, scooping another fork full of carne asada fries into her mouth without shame. Watching her eat is nearly erotic.

"As I recall, your hips are perfect."

She blushes just a little.

"These fries are perfect too. How is it that I didn't know these existed?" It's my turn to indulge.

"Too much time with your head in the clouds?" she asks, taking another bite. I love that she's not shy eating around me—girls that pick at their food drive me crazy.

"Touché, but no. I'm just more of a burgers and beer kind of guy."

"Well I'm a food kind of girl. I like everything as long as it's not vegetarian. This girl needs meat in her diet."

I raise my eyes to her and she instantly knows what I'm thinking.

"Get your mind out of the gutter Mr. Turner."

"Hey, you walked me right into that one."

"I did, but with my innocent statement being taken as it was, I feel the need to clarify something." I sense that this conversation is about to get serious. She takes a drink of her soda, obviously stalling, then looks down at her dinner. "That night with you was the first in a long while. The only guy that's been in my bed recently is gay and, as I've mentioned, relationships were never my thing." She looks up and meets my gaze. "I just don't want you to get the idea that I do that sort of thing often."

"For the record, that thought never crossed my mind, and furthermore, your past is just that to me. That night happened because we both wanted it to and that's all that matters. Admittedly, a relationship is new territory for both of us, so we'll just have to figure it out together. I just have one question for you."

"What's that?"

"Why did you have a gay guy in your bed?" I'm curious and feel that it's a fair question; she, on the other hand, rolls her eyes and laughs at me.

"My best friend Phillip is gay. He's also the reason I came to see you today."

"How's that?" I ask wanting to know but not wanting to sound over interested.

"Sometimes he knows me better than I know myself. Leaving you that day didn't leave me unscathed, actually it left me a mess. I tried to make you, and myself, think that what happened between us meant nothing. But it did mean something, and he saw past my lie. Only he knows how to get through this thick skull of mine to make me see that I may be giving up on something and someone worth taking a chance on."

"Well I'm obviously not gay, but remind me to kiss him when I meet him."

"I'll do no such thing. For now, I think I'll keep you and all your kisses to myself."

Audrey

I'm still not sure the decision I'm making is the right one but there's no way it's the wrong one. Every moment I spend with Layne brings more of me to life, sometimes parts of me that I thought I'd hidden so deep they'd be untouchable. When we got back to his house, I wanted to stay but used the excuse of work early in the morning to go. If I stay with him tonight, I won't want to leave. So, with a kiss that created enough heat to set me on fire, I said goodnight and watched him stand there in the driveway as I drove away.

I walk in the house and Brandyn lies sprawled on the couch with some reality show on the television. She knows that I hate reality shows but, lucky for her, I don't watch much of the boob tube anyway—I only use it for movies, the music channel, and the occasional cooking show. She has no clue where I've been and I'm not into girly gossip. But I must admit there is a part of me that's dying to tell her about my day. I go to the fridge and grab a beer, then sit on the couch and kick my feet up on the coffee table. I look at the screen but I'm not watching; I'm thinking about Layne and waiting for her to ask questions.

"What's up, Audrey?"

"What do you mean? Why does something have to be up?"

She sits up and looks at me for a minute, like she's staring into my soul. "Because you hate reality shows but you're pretending to watch it. Spill it."

I'm not usually a _girl talk_ kind of girl, but I've also never had a guy I wanted to _girl talk_ about. "I saw Layne today."

The look on her face is priceless. "No. Way! Tell me everything!" She reaches over and grabs my beer, then takes a sip.

"I went to see him because I wanted to apologize for how I acted when we got back from the cabin. I was being stupid and Phillip was nice enough to tell me so." I laugh and take my beer back.

"So, what happened? What did he say?" she asks eagerly—a gossip queen at heart.

"He took me flying and then to Roberto's."

"What do you mean, flying? You're kidding, right? I mean, I know he has money, but flying? Like you hopped a flight somewhere?"

"No, I mean he's a pilot—and he has a plane. He took me over the lake and I saw the entire city from thousands of feet in the air." Warmth fills me with the memory. His attention when mentioned of the lake. His excitement as I took in the experience he'd lived hundreds of times. The confidence he had behind the controls that ultimately made me feel so safe.

"He has a plane?" She shakes her head, trying to make sure she's hearing right.

"Really? That's all you got from that? I thought you, of all people, the queen of sap, would _awe_ over the fact that he took me flying. He showed me this town in a way no one ever has and never would."

"Wow, it's like your very own Pretty Woman moment, except that you're not a hooker."

"Thanks." I roll my eyes and take a swig of my beer.

"So, what now? Are you guys a couple? That would be awesome!" She bounces. "We could do doubles and we could each have a house for alone time, the loud kinky kind." She winks. The girl is hopeless.

"We're together, yes. But a relationship is something different and new for both of us." I shake my head while bringing the bottle back to my mouth. "But every minute I'm with him just feels right. I guess we're just taking it one step at a time." Which is code for, I'm not sure staying or running just yet.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last three nights in a row, I've hung out with Layne. Dinner, movies, Dave and Busters—where he spent too much money winning me a teddy bear out of the claw machine, and tonight we're going to hang out at my place with Miles and Brandyn. Brandyn's been so caught up in the _couples_ thing that I decided to give in. It'll sate her for a while and give us time to see where our relationship is going but, right now, it's going really well—almost too well.

We haven't slept together again, not yet. I need to know that his pull to me is about more than sex, though it's obvious there's a connection that neither of us are able to deny. He's pushed for nothing more than kissing me these last few nights, so I'd say it's not just about the sex. He seems to genuinely like being around me—opening doors for me, holding my hand, and even once, he wiped a drop of mustard from my lip. There's no denying that I love it when he's around. I like the way he doesn't need to have his hands all over me but wants to hold my hand or touch me in some way to keep our connection flowing. Honestly, it's making it harder to not want his hands touching other parts of me—it's me who's getting weaker by the day. Oddly enough, the same cocky attitude that insulted me the first day I laid eyes on him hasn't disappeared, but is now a complete turn on.

I volunteered to cook tonight—the more feminine side of me kicking in. My favorite dishes are ones I cook myself. Some are from recipes I've found in my email or a magazine on my mom's coffee table, but my absolute favorites are copycat recipes that I hunted down. I can make a batch of cinnamon rolls that you'd swear came from Cinnabon. And after Olive Garden took my favorite dish off their menu, I went in search of a shrimp and asparagus risotto and found their exact recipe. Mine's better, though mom's is awesome as well. But tonight, it's chicken parmesan, complete with salad and breadsticks, and gelato that I bought from the store. I'm good, but I'm not that good.

Layne and the other two sit down at the counter, watching me cook and keeping me company. Conversation has been all over the place but, mostly, the boys razzing each other. They've known each other a long time and have history between them, kind of like me and Phillip. Most of the stories of their shenanigans make us laugh, but then Miles mentions a girl. I think Miles said her name was Mel, and I'm guessing she's Layne's ex-girlfriend. He became quiet when her name came up and gave Miles a stare that could kill. Fortunately, that story was cut short and another ensued with a much funnier ending. I think I hid it well, but I felt jealous and I didn't like it. I've never been jealous about anything or anyone my whole life.

Before I started dinner, I joked that my cooking required wine, in and out of the food. Now, having noticed a change in my demeanor, Layne has been keeping my wine glass full. I thought I had my feelings under control, that I could mask them, but I should have known better. I wear my heart on my face. What my mouth doesn't say, my expressions do.

He told me he didn't do relationships but it doesn't seem like too long ago that she was in the picture. I'm trying to brush it off, but feel like he lied to me, like it was all just some line—a game. I'm trying not to let it ruin the evening, but the last thing I want to do right now is sit down to dinner and act like everything is okay. That's just not me. I finish everything and set it on the table and, while everyone else takes their seats, I head to my room. I just need a few minutes.

I'm sitting on the end of my bed, Bessie at my side, trying to convince myself that there's no logical reason to feel this way when my door opens and Layne's standing there. I look at him, then back down, hoping that if I avoid eye contact he'll go away, though I know he won't.

"Audrey, I—"

"You what? You forgot that you were a guy who _does_ do relationships? Is that the line you use to get the girls who resist you? _I don't do relationships, but I want it with you._ It's a pathetic line and I'm pathetic for falling for it."

"Audrey, it wasn't a line." He motions as though he wants to come closer but thinks better of it. "Mel is my ex-girlfriend from three years ago. I hate to give her so much credit, but she was the one who made me the _no relationships_ guy. After her, I closed my heart. No relationship, no feelings, and no love, meant I wouldn't get hurt again."

"What happened between you? And why am I different? What makes you think I'm worth it?"

Slowly, he moves closer and crouches down in front of me. "My relationship with Mel was toxic. I fell for her, not seeing her for the manipulator she was. She used me, over and over again, and I was blind while everyone around me tried to make me see." He rakes his hand through his hair. "She got pregnant. I was ready to do what I thought was the right thing. I was going to marry her. I wasn't ready for marriage and a kid, but ready or not it was happening. I proposed and she answered by telling me the baby wasn't mine. She'd been cheating on me for months and I didn't have a clue. In a matter of minutes, I lost two people that I loved, or thought I loved. I never wanted to go through that pain again."

"I'm sorry you went through that. Thank you for sharing that with me." I feel so selfish acting like I did. I had no idea he'd been through something so awful.

"Audrey, I don't _think_ —I _know_ you're worth it. You aren't like any girl I've ever met. You don't need to be needed. You don't compromise who you are to make me want you and that only makes me want you more."

I look into his eyes and I see nothing but the truth in them. Why am I still looking for reasons to run when he's given me so many not to?

"I don't know what came over me," I lie, knowing it was too much wine spiked with a little jealousy.

"You try to deny it, but you like me."

"You think _I_ like _you_?" I roll my eyes.

"I know you do and I like you too, so stop being jealous and kiss me."

I wanted to smack that cocky grin off his face but kissing sounds so much more appealing. I lean in, touch his lips with mine and, just like that, I'm not thinking about her anymore, whoever she was. I'm lost, just me and him. He pulls back, looking like he might lose his balance and fall over but recovers and stands before me. "Let's go eat."

I let him pull me up and lead me back to where Brandyn and Miles sit, waiting patiently for us. I grab a dish and load my plate and we all enjoy our meal. This right here, with these people, is all that matters. The past is just that, and the future is ours.

Layne

My girl's got a jealous streak and I have to admit that I find it sexy as hell. I think I've spent enough time with her to know that she's not crazy in a certifiable way, so her jealousy just means she really does care. Knowing that has me over the moon. I haven't made a move on her since that night on the mountain, wanting to prove to her that it's not about sex. But that doesn't mean I haven't wanted her something fierce. Hell, having her body within inches of mine is enough to set me on fire and it's been quite the chore to smolder that sucker. But tonight, I'm not going to. I need her.

I need to feel her body above me, beneath me, and beside me. I need, dare I say, for her to be the first one I see in the morning without fear of our friends walking in on us. I need, I need—when did I become the guy who needs a girl? The day this spunky, foul mouthed girl with pink hair and cowboy boots walked into my life, that's when.

Miles and Brandyn cuddle together on the love seat while Audrey and I sit on the couch. Brandyn picked a show off of Netflix that she said a friend told her about. She says it's about alternate reality and uses scenarios that conspiracy theorists have suspected for years. The episode that we're watching is about a mystery person who catches people doing things they don't want anyone to know about. Then he makes them do despicable things in exchange for keeping their secret. In the end, and even after they've done the everything he's asked, he still exposes them. It's sick and scary but I can't peel my eyes away.

When it's over, Brandyn disappears to her room and comes back with a bag big enough to fit a small child in it.

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah, I'm going to stay with Miles tonight and go to work from there."

Audrey looks surprised for a second but shakes it off. "Oh, okay. I guess I'll see you tomorrow after work then." The way she says it is off and I wonder if it's the realization that we'll finally be alone.

"You got it. Have fun you two," Brandyn sings as she walks out the door. Miles just waves as he follows close behind her. And all the sudden, we're all alone.

Audrey looks around the room and then looks at me and shrugs. "Those assholes didn't even stay for gelato. I guess that means more for us." She walks toward the kitchen and gives me the motion to follow which, of course, I do.

She pulls the container from the freezer, then grabs two spoons from the drawer and walks to the table. She sits in one of the chairs, then removes the lid and dives in savagely with her spoon. As she pulls it from her mouth, she looks at me, still standing at the edge of the counter.

"What?" she asks and all I can think is, _trust me you don't want to know what the sight of you pulling that spoon from your mouth all seductive-like is doing to me._

"Nothing. Just watching you."

"You should be over here eating gelato with me, saving me from further rejection. You know a depressed girl can eat this whole bucket in one sitting. Please don't let me be one of those girls," she begs teasingly.

I walk over, take my seat, and grab my spoon. She pushes the bucket toward me.

"Why do you feel rejected and depressed?"

"I don't. I just couldn't let you stand there and watch me eat ice cream all by myself."

"So, you guilted me!" I laugh.

"No, I persuaded you." She smiles.

"Whatever. I can tell I'm going to have to keep my eye on you."

"You should. I do tricks."

"Oh really? What kind of tricks do you do?"

She sticks her spoon in the bucket and rises from her seat. She closes the distance between us, takes my spoon from me and puts it in the bucket with the other. Then she straddles my lap and brings her hands to rest around my neck.

"Card tricks, bunny tricks, I can even make you disappear."

"You can, can you?"

"No." She shakes her head mischievously. "But I can make _us_ disappear—to my room."

"Now that's a trick I'll have to see to believe. I don't think you can do it."

"Oh, but I can and you're going to be my special assistant."

I cock an eye at her.

"You're going to listen to the sound of my voice and do whatever I tell you to do." She leans in and places a kiss on my neck. _Oh yeah, I totally am._

"We'll see."

"I want you to stand up." She places another kiss, this time just below my ear. Slowly, I grab her legs as I rise, and she wraps them around me, knowing that I was never going to resist her request. "Now," she kisses the edge of my jaw, "walk down the hall."

I follow her directions, never taking my eyes off hers. She's leading me to her room and that can only mean one thing. The longing and desire I've felt for her all week is shared, and our wait is coming to an end. I enjoy this little game we're playing but the alpha in me wants to take charge. I stop just before we reach her door. Her bed is in clear view and all the things I'd like to do in that bed flash through my mind.

"Take me to my bed, Layne." The tone of her voice is even and confident, but her eyes are begging me to do as she says.

"Not yet."

She stares at me, confused by my words, so I waste no more time and crash my mouth against hers. It's anything but sweet, just the opposite; it's dominant and hungry and I can't get enough. The night on the cliff was slow and beautiful, but this night will be anything but. I want every part of her, I want her to surrender to me, and I want her to know that, from the moment she showed back up on my doorstep, I never intended to let her go again. I want to reacquaint myself with her taste. I want to touch and claim every inch of her skin, and I want to hear her scream my name.

Her hold on my neck tightens as she pulls me toward her. I press her harder against the wall and close the space where our bodies meet between her legs. The constraint of my jeans is becoming downright painful and I want her to feel what she's doing to me. I want her to know that I can't wait any longer.

I pull her away from the wall, pass through the doorway to her room and stop at the foot of her bed. She pulls her lips from mine and I know the fire that's burning in her eyes—it matches my own. I drop her to the bed where she settles with her legs open—an invitation just for me. But there's only one problem with the view that lies before me—there are far too many clothes.

Audrey

As I lie on the bed, Layne looks down on me, his hunger evident. I know his pain because an ache continues to build between my legs, and it's getting stronger with every pass of his eyes. I want to pull him to me, to make him touch the places that need touching, but I can tell by the look on his face right now that he's in charge. He'll no doubt satisfy my every need but it'll be on his terms and I want him so much that I'm willing to concede.

He pulls off his shirt. I suck in a breath as a new pang of need jolts through me. I want to touch his perfect abs. I want to trail my tongue over each defining crease. I want him to touch me but he doesn't and his denial is like torture. I whimper and wiggle my hips, trying to bring myself some relief. But he knows what I'm doing and subtly shakes his head at me.

He leans in, bringing his hands to rest on the bed beside my hips, and dips his mouth to kiss my bare stomach just above my jeans. Still inches away from where I ache to be touched but driving me to quake.

"It's my turn to do tricks," he whispers into my skin. The heat of his breath is like a match and I hold my breath for a second, reveling in its burn.

He pulls apart the button on my jeans and the zipper quickly follows. His fingertips lightly rake the skin at my hips as they find the edge of my pants and he pulls them toward my feet. In a moment that seems to last forever, I lay bare for him and my body tingles with anticipation. I am ready to do whatever he wishes.

He skims his way back up my legs until he meets the juncture between them and, with one last look at me, his mouth is on me. He starts with slow swipes of his tongue but then the tricks begin. I fight to stay still beneath him as he repeatedly brings me to the threshold of orgasm, only to back off. His teasing is killing me. I need release and finally I beg.

"Layne, please."

He looks up at me. "Please what, Audrey?" He blows on the place he just had his mouth, keeping my senses alive.

I have a lot of spunky things to say but asking for what I want in bed is something I've never been comfortable with. But I have a feeling that if I don't say it, the torture will continue.

"I want to come. I need you to make me."

The smile is clear in his eyes before his mouth embraces mine again. He works expertly, again bringing me to the edge but, this time, he doesn't leave me hanging. He slips his finger inside me, putting that coveted pressure exactly where I need it, causing me to tumble over the edge. Sparks flash behind my eyelids, my back arches, and I hold my breath as my walls clench around him. Wave after wave hits until I fall, spent and breathless. Holy hell! I've never felt anything like that before!

My eyes are heavy and I need a minute to recover but Layne has other plans. He moves up my length until he's looking down at me.

"That was the best trick ever," I whisper and smile.

He leans in and kisses me and I can taste myself on him. I would never have thought my own flavor would appeal to me, but knowing what he just did with that tongue makes it the sexiest thing ever and I can't get enough. He pulls back and, with just a hint of mischief, he says words that throw another log on my fire, causing the flames to reach the sky.

"That was only one. I've got many more tricks in my bag." And Lord does he.

I lose count of how many orgasms he brings me to and how many times I scream his name. But I know I experienced each more times tonight than I ever have before. Layne knows how to play my body, how to make it respond to his every whim, and how to keep me begging for more. My body belongs to him and slowly but surely, I'm realizing that I belong to him too.

Layne

I wake up to a shuffling sound and the click of a door to find that I'm lying in an empty bed. Through the crack in the curtains, I see that it's still pretty dark outside. I wonder what time it is and why Audrey is already up. I had hoped to wake up with her in my arms but, once again, that notion is ruined. At least it wasn't Travis walking in on us this time. The shower starts and, for a minute, I think I should join her but I don't. I lie on my back, my arm over my face, and recall last night. It—she—was amazing. We are amazing together.

Her body responded to every touch, reacted to every assault, and she loved every minute of it. I loved it too and I can't wait to do it again. It's ridiculous to think that just weeks ago I would've been content to have a one-night stand with anyone, never looking their way again. Now, I never want to be with anyone else ever again. I've never felt like this and realize that no one has ever had a hold on me like Audrey does. No one else even had a chance.

The light from under the bathroom door goes dark before I hear the turn of the knob and the squeak of the hinges. Then her form fills the space.

"Sneaking out on me?"

I hear a heavy breath and then her weight settles into the space next to me on the bed.

"Not sneaking, just trying not to wake you. It's early."

I turn over and touch a leg that is sadly covered with denim. "Too early. You should take these things off and join me and we'll try this waking up thing again in a few hours. Together—the right way."

"I wish I could, but I have to go to work. I open the coffee shop today."

"Can't someone else do it? Just this once?"

"No. Someone else can't do it. You sleep a while longer and come see me when you get up. Help yourself to whatever you need and I'll see you later."

"Fine, you win, but only on one condition."

"And what's that?"

"I want to wake up with you in the morning. Like really wake up together, no interruptions. I want to give you a million reasons not to get out of bed."

"You work too hard silly, I only need one." She brings her hand to my face and I'm pretty sure she's telling me that _one_ reason __ is me. "But I have bills to pay and I'm running late. I really have to go." She leans in and places a gentle but sensual kiss on my lips, then stands and leaves the room. I hear the front door close and, after a minute, I hear her engine come to life and then disappear.

Light has started to filter through the window and my thoughts of going back to sleep disappear. I roll over onto her pillow and smell her scent. I could get used to this. Not so much her leaving me alone in her bed in the morning but waking up in her bed and seeing her face before anything else. My eyes start to float around her room, absorbing every inch of her personal space that she's trusting me alone with.

Her guitar rests against the wall and I can't help but recall her playing for us at the cabin. Then I look over on her nightstand and see two pictures. One is of a man and a little girl; a girl that resembles Audrey and I'll be damned if she's not wearing a pair of pink cowgirl boots. I guess even then she was on her way to who she is now. I smile unconsciously—I like who she is now. I assume the man is her father and it's easy to tell from the photo that the two of them were close. It takes my smile away to know that his absence causes her so much pain and I hope that, one day, I may be able to fill a small part of the hole he left behind. The other picture is a skyline of rolling hills that I easily identify as the cliff at the cabin—our cliff.

I stare at the photo and remember every moment we spent together up there. It was on that cliff that I started falling for her and here we are. This is all happening so fast, if you don't count the weeks it took us to get here. My feelings for her are solid and growing by the second, with every breath I take. Yes indeed, I'm falling hard for her and I have no desire to stop.

Audrey

Phillip waltzes in, late in his as usual way. It used to piss me off to no end, but now I think I'd fall over if he actually did walk in on time. The first crowd of customers are my regulars and their orders come to me without thought, so it's easy to handle it alone. At least today, he lacks the red eyes that usually tell me he was up all night screwing some hot guy; in fact, he looks rested but, even so, he still appears annoyed. Without a word he gets his apron off the hook and puts it on. Even hungover, Phillip always says good morning. I don't like this at all.

"Who are you and what have you done with my Phillerup?" I get an even more annoyed look—this is bad. "Phillip, what's going on?"

"My bitch of a mother showed up yesterday, unannounced, I must add. She finally wants to come to terms with my being gay. Can you fucking believe that? She even joined a support group, because _she_ needs support to deal with _my_ being gay."

Oh. My. God. Phillip's mom was one of the reasons it was so hard for him to come out in the first place. I've never understood her and how she could basically turn him away because of who he is. As soon as he was eighteen, he left and she moved away. They hardly speak and it breaks my heart.

"So, what did you tell her she could do with her support group? I know you well enough to know you had something super clever to say."

"I told her to go fuck herself and one of the women in her support group with a double headed dildo and then come back and tell me I have her support."

"You didn't!"

"Oh, I did and she left, and I slept like a fucking baby. But it still pisses me off."

"You want me to kick her ass?"

"It wouldn't help and you'd end up arrested. It would be a big old mess. But thanks for offering to become a jail-bitch for me."

"I'll always have your back, you know that."

"I know. So, enough about me. Let's talk about you."

"Me? What about me?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe you could start by telling me about the lucky man in your bed last night?"

"What are you talking about?" I swear he's got fuckdar. Gay or otherwise, he can detect anyone who's been laid in the last twenty-four hours within a mile radius.

"Cut the shit, Audball. You've got _just fucked_ written all over your face. Was is it Layne?" He says Layne's name in a sing-song voice, all light and dreamy. I can't hide the smile that hearing his name summons and, apparently, it brings with it blushing cheeks. "So, when do I get to meet this guy that has my Audball blushing so?"

"Maybe today. He might be coming in for coffee this morning."

"I finally get to meet the man who has captured your wild heart? He must be quite the man."

"He hasn't _captured_ my heart," I say under my breath. "It's not that serious."

"I call bullshit! You haven't spent this long with one guy as long as I've known you. It's not a bad thing that you like him. It was only a matter of time until the right man came along."

"I do like him—a lot, but I'm afraid that if—"

"You like him too much, he'll break you," he finishes my sentence for me because he knows.

I look down, ashamed that someone else knows my weakness—my one true fear. He comes to stand in front of me and lifts my chin so that I have to look at him, then pulls me into a hug. "If you're afraid to jump, you'll never know if you can fly and, baby girl, you have wings—use them." This is why he's my best friend and why I love him so much.

I hug him tight and, for a second, everything around us disappears; that is, until I hear the sound of someone clearing their throat and look up to see Layne, one eye cocked and a questioning look on his face. I whisper in Phillip's ear, "He's here," and all subtlety flies out the window as he spins around and comes face to face with Layne, who waits patiently for an introduction. But I do think I sense some jealousy as his eyes move from Phillip to me. A part of me likes that he's jealous, but the other part of me needs to establish the fact that there will be no pissing matches between him and my best friend. No matter how I feel about him, Phillip would win hands down if I were forced to make a choice, but I really don't want to have to.

"Phillip, this is my boyfriend, Layne." I walk over to give Layne a kiss, then turn to finish the introductions. "Layne, this is my best friend, Phillip."

Layne softens and holds his hand out to Phillip and, of course, my man-whore of a best friend just can't wait to touch him. And, of course, he holds on to Layne's hand just a few seconds too long. Layne looks at me with recognition. He knows that Phillip is my notorious gay best friend. All hints of jealousy leave and relief takes its place.

"It's nice to meet you, Phillip."

"Same here. Audrey's told me next to nothing about you, but it's no wonder. I'd want to keep you all to myself as well."

"Phillip, really?" I interrupt. "Leave the guy alone, and yes, that's exactly what I was up to—hiding him from you." I giggle and squeeze closer to Layne, who hasn't moved his arm from around me. I never thought I'd like this dominant presence he's putting out, but I do. I like the way he's claiming me, even if it is against my friend who is very much into dick.

"Whatever. See if I bring the next hot guy I date around. You'll be Audrey who?" He looks around as if I'm not there for dramatics.

"Okay, because you've ever let me meet the guys you date anyway." I've got him there and he knows it.

"That's because none of them have been good enough, but if you can find someone, maybe one day I can too. Nice to meet you, Layne." He nods at the two of us. "I'll get back to work now. Audrey, why don't you take a break with your man?"

"Thanks, Phillip. So, what'll it be? Coffee, tea? You don't strike me as a fancy latte kind of guy."

"Coffee's fine—raw sugar."

"Go have a seat, I'll be right there." I go get his coffee and one for me, then meet him on the couch. I've just set our coffees down, when he pulls me to him and his lips are on mine. I'm at work and this is not how I should behave, but I can't break away—I don't want to. I melt into him until I hear the words _get a room_ whispered behind us and realize that Emma was the one that said it. I look away and I'm flushed with embarrassment.

What is happening to me? I've never acted like this before. I never gave myself the opportunity to. Then, in a sudden flash of acknowledgment, I realize the answer, it's impossible to ignore. There's only one thing on this earth that can turn a woman's brain to mush without her consent, causing her to act without thinking and make decisions that she normally wouldn't. I'm both elated and terrified by this epiphany, but the truth is, I'm totally falling for Layne Turner. Now the big question is, am I going to accept it, or fight it?

Layne

For the last ten days, I haven't gone one without seeing Audrey. And every night or morning when I leave her side, I look forward to the next time she's in my arms. I love that she's so willing to submit to me, and I understand that it's truly a gift. I appear strong, but she has no clue how weak she makes me. She owns me—completely.

She's at work at the shop right now and I'm bumming around the house, catching a game and doing some neglected laundry. I hear the neighbor's dogs start to go crazy and glance at my watch to see that it's probably the mailman causing them to come undone. The game's on a commercial break anyway, so I walk out to the street, get the mail and start to shuffle through it as I'm walking back in. Most of it is junk, but one piece catches my eye and causes my heart to halt for a split second. It's from the FAA.

I flip the envelope in my hands nervously and take a seat on the couch just staring at it. The moment feels almost like déjà vu and I see myself eight years ago doing the very same thing with my letter from the University of Portland. I remember wondering if it was too thick or not thick enough and being excited and scared at the same time to see what it said inside. Will my dream be shattered or is it about to become reality?

This time though, it's so much more. This isn't whether or not I'll get into a school when there are others I could apply to. This is the last two years of my life and could possibly be my entire future. Either way, there is one person I want to share this with and I can't wait until tonight. I take the envelope, grab my keys off the counter, and head out the door.

I pull into the parking lot of Steve's shop and get out of the car. As I walk up to the bay, I see my girl bent over the front of a car and it sends a bolt of lust through me. Taking her while bent over the car just became my new number one fantasy and I almost forget why I came in the first place. But the paper in my hand reminds me.

I walk up and lean against the car, wondering how long it'll take for her to notice that I'm there. But she is in tune with me just as I am with her and she straightens up to give me that smile I love so much.

"Hey you." She leans over to give me a kiss. "What're you doing here?"

"I got this today." I hold up the letter. I see excitement and wonder in her eyes.

"And you're acting way too calm. What does it say?" she asks excitedly.

"I don't know. I haven't opened it yet."

"Are you feeling all right? What have you been waiting for? Open it."

"I wanted to open it with you."

I can see what that means to her and that's exactly why I wanted her here with me when I see the words still tucked inside—the words that will impact my future.

"I'm sure it's great news. Are you ready?"

I nod nervously.

"Then open it," she urges.

I tear back the corner of the envelope, then force my finger inside to finish the tear along the top. I reach in and pull out the contents and, after taking a deep breath, unfold it and focus on the words. Audrey watches me, waiting for my expression to tell her what I see. As much as I'd like to trick her and make her think that this letter contains rejection, I can't conceal the smile that tells her different.

"They want it!"

She nearly screams, and she jumps into my arms. "I'm so happy for you!" She lays kisses all over my face.

"It's all I've ever wanted and I gave them no reason not to accept it but I still think I'm in shock." I'm still processing what this means for me, what it means for my future. I've found my success and at only twenty-six years old. Now the question is, what do I do with it and who do I spend it with? I don't know the what, but I have a pretty clear idea of the who.

"Shock is good. It means you're humble. I like it on you," she says as she looks straight into my eyes.

I am arrogant in most of the things I do, all but two anyway. My success and her. "I want to share this with you."

Her expression changes and her words are nervous. "You are right now. I wasn't even around when you started this. I had nothing to do with any of it. This is all yours." Her words, and the ways she says, them tell me that right now is not the time to say what I really want, so I switch gears in my head and make a different proposal.

"I just want to celebrate it with you and all my friends."

Her manner changes again and the excitement is back in her eyes.

"Miles and his band have a gig tomorrow night. I want to tell everyone and celebrate and I want you by my side."

"That sounds great. I'll ask Phillip to come too. Of course, I'll have to stay by your side every second to keep him at bay." We both laugh.

"Call whoever you want. As long as you're there with me, everyone else is just a bonus."

Audrey

"Audrey! Are you ready yet? What the hell is taking you so long?" I hear Brandyn yelling from the hall. She can just keep on yelling because I'm not ready and I won't come out until I am.

Layne wants to celebrate his success and I want to do everything possible to make it special. I want him to know how proud I am. I called Sass & Sins to ask Wanda, the bartender, to reserve the big table so that all of us could sit together. And maybe, just maybe, I'm wearing a new pair of red lace panties with a bra to match for later. The entire night will be perfect.

I'm sliding on my boots when there's a knock at my door. I'm prepared to see Brandyn's face when I answer but Layne fills my doorway instead. Snug fitting jeans, a green t-shirt that looks strained by the muscles beneath, and a smirk that takes sexy to a whole new level—they're _all_ working against me at this moment. Suddenly, leaving the house seems like a bad idea and, by the way he's looking at me, I think he shares my thought.

"You look gorgeous," he drags out the last word as though distracted by what he sees.

I walk over to stand in front of him and place my hands on his chest. "You took the words right out of my mouth."

I lean in for the kiss but Brandyn chooses that moment to show up. I throw my head back. annoyed by her timing. "Come on guys! We're going to be late."

I settle for resting my head on Layne's chest but inhaling his scent may not have been the best deterrent. Brandyn can wait one damn minute so that I can kiss my majorly hot boyfriend.

I look up and, with my eyes locked on his, press my lips to his. He pulls me closer, one hand on my ass and the other at the small of my back. I bring my hands to his neck. Leaving is such a bad idea, and I've never been one to turn away from a bad idea. Reluctantly, I break away and see that he, too, may require convincing to leave.

"I'll make a deal with you. We go for a few hours—three tops—spend time with friends, listen to Miles' band, then excuse ourselves to come home and celebrate privately."

"An hour," he negotiates, wiggling his eyebrows and giving my backside a firm squeeze.

"Two?"

"Deal. And not a minute more. Let's go."

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brandyn was the worst back seat driver ever on the way to the bar. She went on and on about how pissed she'd be if she missed the band's first song. She's the proud girlfriend of the guitar player and wants everyone to know it. They're a really new band and are still getting their feet wet in the indie circuit. Vegas births a lot of talent, some have even made it big, but it's not easy.

We walk in thirty minutes before the band kicks off their set, just in time for the annoying, but necessary, mic checks. Check, check, one, two, check, one, two. Layne's gone to the bar to get drinks and say hi to a couple of friends while Brandyn starts freaking out about there being nowhere to sit. I grab her by the arm and walk her over to our table.

"I had it reserved. Now stop freaking out and enjoy being the guitar player's girlfriend already."

"Okay. You're right and I'm sorry. I'm just so excited for him and don't want to miss anything." She comes in for a hug and, as soon as our bodies come together, we feel the weight of another body wrapped around us.

"Two girls and a gay. Sounds like a television show."

"Phillerup! You made it!"

"Of course, Audball. I thought you might need some help ogling your boyfriend, and you know me, I'm always here to help."

"When it comes to that, I don't need your help."

"So, where is his royal hottness?"

"He's at the bar getting drinks." Our attention turns to where he stands at the bar and I melt just looking at him. When I turn back to Phillip, he's giving me a look. "What?"

"Girl you've got it bad. I never thought I'd see the day."

"You and me both. I don't know what it is about him, but..." I stop myself, surprised by the words that come to mind.

"But what? You can't leave me hanging that way."

"I think I love him, Phil. I fought it and I didn't want it to happen, but he made his way into my heart." Saying those words, _I love him_ , causes warmth to spread through me and a flutter in my stomach.

"Well, look at you. If it can happen for you, I guess there's hope for the rest of us after all."

I blush, hoping I haven't actually been his personal role model all along. I never said I didn't believe in love; I said I didn't want it because I didn't want it to make me weak. I've never said that I loved anyone but the words feel so right and, now that I've spoken them, I know it's true. I've definitely fallen in love with Layne Turner.

Layne

"Hey, Phillip!" I walk up behind Audrey and dangle her beer in front of her. "Glad you could make it."

"Audrey said you had big news and cause for celebration. I love celebrations." Phillip claps his hands in front of him.

"I do have big news but I'm going to wait to announce it once everyone's here."

"Aw, you can tell me. I can keep a secret." Phillip bats his eyelashes and both Audrey and I laugh. I can see why Audrey loves him so much.

"Sorry man. It's our secret just a little while longer," I pull Audrey to me and kiss the side of her head. She leans into me and thoughts of the celebration she and I will have later come to mind. I just have to make it two hours.

Everyone has arrived by the time the band starts to play. In short, I'm surrounded by friends and the happiest guy alive right now. And the night has just begun. Audrey is on the dance floor with Phillip and Brandyn, twirling with her hands in the air. Every once in a while, she looks right at me and does a move that forces me to adjust myself in my seat. She will have to do some of these moves for me later, but with a lot less clothes.

Travis sits across from me and notices the exchange between us. I'm still not sure how he feels about us being together, even though he played a major role in getting us here. He's one of my best friends and, now, that takes a back seat to him being like my girlfriend's brother. Standard guy talk, when it comes to girls, is off the table replaced by an always protective and watchful eye. I get it because he loves her and, unfortunately, he knows my past. If I was him and a guy like me was dating my little sister, I'd act the same way. Maybe it's time I put all his worries to rest.

"I'm glad you came tonight. It means a lot to me and Audrey for you to be here."

"Of course, man. So, what's this big announcement you have? You two didn't run downtown and get married, did you?"

He thinks we got married? It's not the most unappealing idea and the things that instantly flash through my mind surprise me. Audrey in a dress, putting a ring on her finger, her lips saying _I do_ , her being my wife. I can't stop the smile that comes to my face.

"That's it, isn't it? You're both assholes." Travis is mad, like turning red mad, and I have about ten seconds to fix this before he decides to kill me.

"We didn't get married." I can see the instant change in his skin tone as it makes its way back to normal.

"That's good because I'd have to fucking kill you both."

"But now that you've brought it up, how would you feel if we did? Hypothetically speaking, of course." It's a spontaneous question, but I want to know.

He looks at me, trying to read my mind. "Are you serious? Layne Turner is thinking about settling down?"

"I'm not planning on asking her tomorrow, but if I were going to ask anyone, it would be her. She's amazing and..." I pause for a second to think about my next words before I say them out loud because I can't take them back. But that second reaffirms they are exactly what I want to say. "I love her."

His face is unreadable at my admission. "Have you told her that?" My friend is gone for the moment and her brother is talking.

"Not yet." Because I just realized it.

"What are you waiting for?"

Good question. _What am I waiting for?_

"I'm not." I stand up from the table and walk toward her on the dance floor. I move in between her and Brandyn. The song that's playing comes to an end and, as if I'd planned it, the next is much slower. I pull her close and she brings her hands around my neck.

She stares up at me and it's like we're the only two people on the dance floor. It's an intimate moment that we're sharing in a bar full of people, but it's perfect.

"Audrey, I love you."

Her expression changes and she stops moving. Maybe she doesn't feel the same way. But I refuse to believe that way and lead her back into the rhythm of the music. "You don't have to say it back. I just had a vision a few minutes ago, a thought that's never crossed my mind before, and it made me realize that you are it for me."

"That's quite the coincidence. I was talking to Phillip earlier, when you were off getting drinks. You want to know what I told him?"

I nod, afraid that words will fail me. My heart beats hard in my chest as I wait.

"I told him that I think I love _you_."

"You think?" I ask jokingly but, all I heard was I love you. I never imagined how powerful hearing those words would be and how they'd turn my brain to jelly.

"That's the funny thing, as soon as I said the words, I didn't think anymore, I knew. I've never let myself feel this way, Layne. I'm not even sure I know how to love you the way you deserve but I'll just keep loving you until I get it right."

"We'll figure it out together."

She smiles and I go in for the kiss.

By the time either of us acknowledge anyone or anything else around us, the music has stopped and we're standing alone in the middle of the dance floor while all of our friends watch us from the table. All eyes are on us and Audrey buries her head in my chest embarrassed by the attention. I couldn't care less that they're looking at us. She just told me she loved me and I'm on the highest cloud ever.

"Come on," I whisper, "we have an announcement to make."

"So, the reason we asked you all here tonight is because I received some exciting news the other day. After almost two and a half years of blood, sweat, and tears, the FAA wants my flight simulation program!" I love saying that. I love that I get to be one of the few whose hard work actually pays off.

Congratulations come from everyone at the table and I'm enveloped in hugs. I've never felt so amazing. I have the girl I love next to me, my friends all around and a bright future ahead. Right now, I am the luckiest guy alive.

"I call for a round of shots," Miles says as a waitress walks by. He stops her. "A round of, what do you want, Layne?"

"Whatever you guys want, just not tequila."

"Fine," he says and turns his attention back to the waitress. "Because my friend's a pussy we'll have a round of Washington apples." Everyone hoots and the waitress does a count before walking away.

I lean over to Audrey, "I'll be right back." She nods and I give her a kiss, then head to the restroom on the other side of the bar.

Focused on my destination and not really paying attention, I collide with a girl exiting the hallway. I feel horrible and reach out to her to help her right herself but, as soon as our skin touches, something feels wrong. I jerk away as if I've just touched fire.

The girl fusses for a minute, then looks up at me, flipping her hair out of her face, and I find myself face to face with someone I hoped I'd never see again—Mel.

Audrey

Everyone's waiting for the guest of honor to return and there's only a few minutes left before Miles has to be back on stage. Layne's been gone a while now and I'm guessing he got stopped by someone along the way. After all, this is where he and Miles hang out, and it was the first place I saw him after our, now notorious, gas station meeting.

"I'm going to go find Layne. I'll be right back." I head toward his original destination. I look through the bodies, a lot of bodies, until I spot him near the opening of the hall to the bathrooms. I bump through people as I make my way closer because yelling would be useless—nobody would hear me.

I'm getting closer and I see that he is talking to someone, a girl I don't know. Jealousy starts to bubble as I get closer, then, when I'm only a few feet away, this girl places her hands around his neck and pulls him to her. As if intentional, to make sure I can see what's happening, they turn together and my heart shatters. She's kissing him and he's not pushing her away.

My heart's racing, my ears start to hum, and I feel like all the air has been stolen from the room. Why would he do this? _How_ could he do this? I rush back to the table, knocking people out of the way, not giving a shit how rude I seem. I'm suffocating, I'm shaking, I can't see straight, and bile is rising in my throat. I have to get out of here.

I get to the table and go straight to Phillip. "I have to go. Get me out of here now."

He doesn't ask any questions. He grabs my purse and takes hold of my arm, becoming my shield as he barrels through the crowd and leads me out the door. I'm not in the car two seconds before the tears break free. The scene that caused them is so vivid, it's as if I'm seeing it again. How could he?

"Audrey what happened back there?" Phillip asks, worried, as we pull out of the parking lot.

I can't say it. I can't say what I saw. I just shake my head and lean against the window, watching the lights go by through tear-blurred eyes.

"Where do you want to go?" he asks softly.

"I don't know," I whisper.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

"No."

"Okay. My place it is."

This is why I love Phillerup so much. He just knows me and he'd never betray me. He'd never lie to me, telling me that I was different from every other girl he'd ever been with and that I made him want to be different too. He'd never allow me to fall in love with him just to shatter my heart.

My phone starts buzzing and I don't bother looking to see who it is. I don't care and throw my phone on the floor board with all that I have left. I'm not ready to answer my best friend's questions and Layne is the last person I want to speak to. It's all my fault. I let him in and he did exactly what I was afraid he'd do; he broke me. Twenty minutes ago, I confessed my love to him and, now, I wish that I never met him.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don't remember falling asleep but, now, with the pain waking causes, I wish I'd stayed asleep. Thankfully, I didn't have to open the coffee shop this morning but I never thought I'd wake up in Phillip's bed. Last night was supposed to end differently. It was supposed to be a beautiful part of my beginning with Layne, not the tragic end.

I turned off my phone after the twentieth time he called. Brandyn tried a couple times too, but I didn't want to talk to anyone. I didn't know what I would say. For the first time in my life, my sassy mouth had no words. But I can't stay at Phillip's forever. I have to figure out what I'm going to do, how I'm going to handle this. I do know that I can't face Layne. I can't look into those eyes and not see the man I fell in love with without seeing him kissing that girl. I don't know if I can go home because I'd have to explain to Brandyn what happened and, if the pain I feel just thinking about it is any indication, saying it out loud could literally gut me.

Phillip enters the room with a cup of coffee and a bagel. He sets the coffee on the nightstand and scoots into the space I've left on the edge of the bed. Then he takes a bite of the bagel, which I'm glad wasn't for me. He looks down at me with the knowing, caring eyes of the best friend I've ever had and my tears break free again. I try to hide my face in his pillow, but he places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it gently.

"You can stay here as long as you want, but everyone's worried about you. Brandyn's called three times this morning and I'm assuming that if Layne had my number, my phone would've blown up by now."

Hearing his name is like a knife in my heart and I wince. My friend is perceptive and doesn't miss this.

"So, it _was_ him."

"Yeah, it was him. When I went to go find him, I found him all right—kissing some girl." I choke back another sob. "Better yet, just minutes after I told him I loved him. What the fuck? How could I be so stupid? How could I fall for a guy like him?"

"Just tell me what you need me to do. I'll do anything, you know that."

"I do. I love you, Phillerup, but right now, I just need to be alone. I need to figure out what I'm going to do."

"You got it."

"Just keep everyone away. I don't want to see anyone right now."

"Consider it done," he says and leans over to kiss my forehead before rising and walking out the door.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've been in and out of sleep at least a dozen times and every time I come to, I see Layne. Sometimes it's just him, his beautiful smile and that look in his eyes when he told me he loved me. Other times it's the way I last saw him, in the arms of someone else just minutes after he told me he loved me. The two incidents, vastly significant in their own way, were separated by mere minutes. It just doesn't seem possible.

But what am I going to do about it? What's my next course of action? I've thought about that too and, though it's not like me to run away from anything, I think it's the only option right now. Just like I told Phillip; I need time and I need space.

I pick up my phone from the nightstand and power it on, knowing that I'm about to be notified of all the calls and texts I've been ignoring. I go into my texts and open a new message, choose the contact, and start typing.

_Me: Aunt Jo. I'm coming to Boston. Should be there sometime tomorrow. I'll send details when I have them._

It's late afternoon there with the time difference, so I don't expect it to take her long to respond. She doesn't disappoint me.

_Aunt Jo: You're always welcome here. Being so last minute, there must be quite a story. I'll stock up on ice cream._

I turn my phone back off. Anything I don't have with me, I can buy, and Phillip can take me to the airport. I'll call Emma, Steve, Brandyn, and my sister from there or, maybe, just send a mass text. None of them will be happy, but I've never failed them before so they'll just have to be understanding. I'm taking care of myself for once. The ache in my heart hasn't lessened with my decision, but a calm has come over me and I know that in time I'll be okay. I hate it when tourists say it but, right now, it truly describes my life: what happened in Vegas can just stay in fucking Vegas while I go mend the remnants of my heart in Boston.

Layne

I've been awake all night. My head feels like it's been run over by a truck and I have a terrible feeling that's the good news. Audrey hasn't answered any of my texts; she hasn't even read them and every call goes straight to voicemail. I don't understand what happened.

Last night, I told her I loved her and I didn't expect her to say it back but, she did. We were so in sync and the future seemed so bright. Looking into her eyes as we swayed to the music, I saw her dressed in white, her pink hair accenting it perfectly. I saw her belly swollen with our child and that maternal glow everyone says a pregnant woman has. I saw a little girl with her mother's eyes wearing a brand-new pair of cowboy boots standing with her, hands on her hips and sassy as ever. Just seconds after we exchanged the strongest words in existence, I saw our life together and I wanted it. Maybe she saw the same things but doesn't want it, but I don't think that's it.

Now I have no clue where she is or why she left. I know she's with Phillip and that's only because Brandyn said he grabbed Audrey's purse and led her out last night. Brandyn hasn't been able to get a hold of Audrey either; at least, that's what she tells me. In true stalker fashion, I even camped in front of the house last night, but she never came home. I've called and texted everyone in my phone and no one knows anything. I've never felt so lost and it's all because the love of my life disappeared like Cinderella at midnight. And she didn't even leave a boot behind.

Audrey

I booked my ticket for the red-eye flight leaving at ten tonight, which will put me in Boston early tomorrow morning. For now, it's a one-way ticket because I don't know how long I'll be gone or if I ever want to come back. Between Brandyn and Phillip, Bessie will be taken care of, though I'll miss her dearly. Really, she's the only one I'm worried about because she's going to think I abandoned her.

Phillip offered to go to the store and buy me the essentials while I take a shower. All I need is a change of clothes and deodorant—because he refuses to let me use his—and a toothbrush. It'll make traveling light and I'll get whatever else I need once I get there.

I'm on autopilot while I stand in the shower, wishing the hot spray would take it all away. But every time I close my eyes, he's there and my heart breaks a little more. He knew I've never opened myself to anyone like I did with him. I thought he knew just how much of myself I shared with him and that I trusted him not to break me. I thought I could trust him. I was wrong. Now I have some idea of how my mom felt after my dad died and can understand why she's so empty inside.

I have Phillip take me to the airport early, just so I'm off the grid. He's the only one who knows what I'm doing and I know he won't give away my secret. I turn on my phone and the first thing I see is a ton of missed call alerts—most of them are from Layne. It may seem juvenile of me but I'm not ready to read or hear what he has to say, so I block his number. That'll take care of that for now.

I opt to send texts instead of calling everyone because I don't want to have to explain. My texts to Emma and Steve bend the truth by saying that I have a family emergency and have to leave town. I don't say what family and I don't say where. My text to Brandyn simply states: I need a break and please take care of Bessie. But there are two people for whom a text is not a sufficient form of communication.

"Where the fuck are you, Audrey?" Well hello to you too. "Brandyn called and said that you've been MIA since last night. Are you okay?" Tiffany sounds pissed but relieved to hear from me.

"I'm fine." I know my voice deceives me but there's not much I can do about that. "Look, I just wanted to let you know I'm going out of town for a little while. Don't ask me why and don't ask me where."

"Are you in trouble, Audrey? What's going on? Where are you going?" Leave it to her to do exactly what I've asked her not to; but she's family, so I answer.

"I'm not in trouble. I just need to get away. I need a break, that's all. I'm going to see Aunt Jo. I'll stay in touch, okay? Now, can I talk to Mom for a minute?" She knows that further prying will get her nowhere and concedes to my request. The next voice I here is my mom's and I try to sound as though nothing's wrong. "Hey, Mom."

"Audrey, honey. How are you? Are you coming to dinner tonight? Tiffany's making chicken enchiladas." She actually sounds excited.

"No Mom, I won't be at dinner. I'm actually going out of town for a few days. I leave tonight, in a couple of hours."

"But you never miss dinner." I can hear disappointment in her voice. "Where are you going? When will you be back?" Her and my sister are two halves of the same person. Always full of questions.

"I'm going to visit Aunt Jo and I'm not sure how long I'll stay yet. I'm just burnt out between work and school and need a little break. That's all."

"But you're coming back, right? You're not moving to Boston? It's so far away Audrey." I knew she'd react like this. She's terrified that I'll leave her and, knowing how much I love Boston, she knows it's the first place I'd go.

"I'm coming back Mom, I promise." I'd say anything to strike the panic from her voice and I've never broken a promise to my mother. This may very well be the first because I don't, in fact, know that I'm coming back.

"Okay, sweetie. I'll miss you. Make sure you call."

"I'll miss you too, Mom," and I will. "I love you." Tears sting my eyes.

"I love you too."

I hang up and turn my phone off again.

I sit there for a few minutes just thinking about all the stories I'm inventing to hide the truth. Family emergencies, needing a break, anything to hide my weakness and the fact that I'm running from a man and the pain he's caused me. But in the end, no story I tell matters. I'm hurting, I'm broken inside, and I'm doing what I need to do for me and no one else.

I wander to the gift shop and grab a magazine, then go to the bar and order a double. A couple more hours and I'll be out of this shithole town that steals not only your money, but your soul.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One of my favorite things about taking the red-eye into Logan airport is being served Dunkin' coffee on the plane to announce our arrival. My second favorite thing is that, from the sky, you can see that you're landing on a peninsula with ocean at both ends of the runway. The only time this ever scared me was one winter when the city was covered in snow; I thought we might slide right off the edge and land in the water. Of course, that didn't happen and I decided I really didn't want to know if it ever has.

I get off the plane and, with no baggage to claim, I head straight for the train. Aunt Jo lives in Back Bay and with the help of a T map, I'll get there. It's a lot easier than having her pick me up. Besides, I love the train and though it's not too busy, being a Sunday morning and all, there's enough people to watch to keep my mind off of my twisted life for a little while.

Eventually, I arrive at her door and have barely raised my hand to knock when the door opens and a beautiful man emerges, nearly colliding with me. I look at him, then at the number on the door. I know I have the right address, but this is definitely not my Aunt Jo.

"I'm sorry, I'm looking for Joanne—" and before I can get her last name out the door opens again and Aunt Jo fills the doorway.

"Audrey!" She steps out and wraps me in her embrace. No doubt she's glad to see me but I detect she's trying to create a diversion from the hunk leaving her apartment. And said hunk didn't take the hint because he's still standing there when she releases me.

"I almost thought I had the wrong address." I look to the hunk and she knows she must explain.

"Right. This is Rhyse, my boyfriend."

Boyfriend huh? I start to think that coming here may have been a bad idea. Aunt Jo has been single for as long as I can remember, but I guess that's no longer the case.

"Nice to meet you, Rhyse. I'm Audrey, Jo's niece from Las Vegas."

"She told me you were coming. Nice to meet you, Audrey." He kisses my hand and looks back to Jo.

"I'll call you later," she says and he leans in and kisses her. This is exactly what I don't want to see right now. Then he turns and heads down the stairs.

Jo's turns her attention to me and she gives me a forgiving smile while she studies me. Her smile slowly fades as she reads me with this crazy connection we've always had. She pulls me to her and I do what I've been putting off since the last time I saw Layne; I let myself break down.

Layne

I've called everyone I can think of. I've begged and I've pleaded, but I've haven't heard anything. Audrey has just disappeared and either everyone else is as in the dark about this as I am or they're keeping the answers from me. When I talked to Travis, he seemed as worried as I am. He said if something didn't give soon he'd go see Audrey's mom, which he hasn't done in years. The only person I haven't been able to talk to is Phillip who, according to Brandyn, was the last person to see her and actually left with her the other night. So now I'm sitting in front of the coffee shop for the second day in a row waiting for him to come in, so I can talk to him. Apparently, he was off yesterday because I waited four hours before I gave up.

I see him walk to the door and he must feel me watching him because he turns and looks right at me. Then he does something I never expected; he walks toward my car. I step out and, after the door shuts, I lean against it. My brain isn't functioning after two days of no sleep and I don't want to come off too aggressive because he's my last chance of finding her.

"You look like shit," he says stating the obvious and the flirtatious tone he's always had with me is absent.

"Tell me something I don't know, like where Audrey is and what's going on."

"Unfortunately, I don't know what the fuck is going on and the only reason I'm talking to you is because I thought _you_ might enlighten me."

"I wish I could, but she won't answer my calls or my texts. I'm as in the dark as you are. Except I think you know _where_ she is."

He looks away, his body language confirming that I'm right.

"Phillip, I have to talk to her."

He's not going to help me and, though I wish he would, I have to respect his loyalty to her. "Did she say anything? Why did she leave the other night? I know you left with her, you must know something."

"Cut the shit Layne. Who was the girl? That's right, she saw you. She went looking for you that night and when she came back she looked like she'd seen a ghost. She told me to get her out of there and I did. Then she left town for a while. That's what I know."

It hits me like a brick. She saw me with Mel.

"That fucking bitch," I look away and say under my breath.

"What the fuck did you just call her?" Phillip's in my face before I can blink. "I think you know more than you're telling. I think you know exactly why she left and you have the nerve to call her a bitch! You know there's a huge misconception when it comes to my being gay. I can and will kick the shit out of you. So, you'd better start talking."

"Whoa, it's not what you think. And I've already had my ass kicked enough this week. Let me explain, then help me get our girl back.

"This better be good, Turner. But I make no promises."

"Agreed."

I spin the cup of coffee in my hands, no clue of where to start. "I was on my way to the bathroom when I bumped into my ex, Mel. Where the hell she came from, I had no idea. She was the last person I expected to see but seeing me didn't seem to be much of a surprise to her. She told me she heard that Miles' band was playing and didn't want to miss it, she wanted to support the band. I called bullshit because she and Miles couldn't stand each other. It was a mutual hatred that I was caught in the middle of while always trying to stay on both good sides. It's not my favorite story but, when Mel and I broke up, it left me wrecked. But life got easier and I got over it. I may have gotten over it by becoming a heartless douche, but that all changed when Audrey came into my life.

"In the hall at _Sass and Sins_ , Mel flirted with me, which I found laughable. And even after I told her I was there with my girlfriend, she kissed me. Her boldness stunned me and I pushed her away, to which she had the nerve to act surprised.

"I asked her what the fuck was with wrong her. I'd just told her I was here with my girlfriend and asked why she'd pull that shit! She tried telling me again she was there for the band, but finally admitted that she knew I'd be there."

"What did you say to that?" Phillip asks while refilling the pastry case.

"I told her she wasted her time and I walked back to the table. But when I got back, Audrey was nowhere to be found. When I asked Brandyn where she was the look on her face told me something was wrong and that she, too, was puzzled. She told me Audrey left with you and asked what happened. I couldn't answer because I didn't have an answer. I just ran to the door as fast as I could but she was gone. In an instant, the best night of my life turned into a nightmare."

He eyes me skeptically but, when I break down in tears, I think he finally believes me—I think he may even feel bad for me. He still won't tell me where she is but says he'll talk to her. He makes it perfectly clear that he won't take my side, and if Audrey decides to let me explain, it's up to me to make it right. I agree; it is up to me, because I never should have allowed the chance for it to go wrong. Mel was the one who kissed me but I shouldn't have been there with her to begin with. I should've been by Audrey's side, and because I wasn't, I may have lost her forever.

Audrey

In the last five days, I've eaten at least two gallons of chocolate ice cream, drank three bottles of wine, and walked miles around the city but I still feel like shit. Why did I let this happen? This is as much my fault as it is his. It may be a copout but never letting anyone in kept this from happening, it kept me from getting hurt. Now I'm a zombie who's gained two pounds and my favorite place in the world is powerless to take away my pain. Today, I think I'll stay in. I'm all out of ice cream and wine, so I can't get into too much trouble.

Just as I've settled into my place on the couch, Aunt Jo walks in the room, looks over at me, and rolls her eyes. "Get up and get dressed," she orders.

"I'm not leaving the house today."

"Actually, you are. You're coming with me to a cook-out."

"I'm not really in a cook-out mood, but you go and have fun." I look back at the television and point the remote just to have her step in front of it and ruin the connection. "Not now, please, Jo. I just want to—"

"Sit here and feel sorry for yourself? Look, I get that you're going through a shitty time, but you came here to deal with it and if you ask me—"

"I'm not asking you," I snap back.

"Well I don't give a shit. You're not dealing with it at all. You haven't even talked to him. I know it seems impossible, but maybe there's an explanation for what you saw. You're so stuck on proving to yourself that loving him was wrong that you could be missing one critical thing."

"And what's that?"

She comes to sit down next to me. "That maybe loving him was right. That maybe you owe him the chance to explain just as much as he owes you an explanation. If neither of you give each other that chance, then maybe you never really loved each other after all."

I know she's not personally questioning my love for him; she's asking me to decide if that love was worth throwing away. "And what if I saw exactly what I thought?"

"There's always that chance, but hiding from the truth, no matter what it is, is not the answer. You can stay as long as you need to but, until you deal with this, it'll continue to break you. And from the moment it happened until the moment you face it, that's on you, not him."

She's right, but I need a little more time. "I'll think about it. Thank you."

"Anytime kid. Now get ready to go. We have a cook-out and the most adorable one-and-a-half-year-old you'll ever see, to get to. Julia hates it when I'm late, so get moving."

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stare at my phone for at least an hour contemplating whether to call Layne, because Jo is right. He owes me an explanation and I owe him the chance to give it. It may not change anything or it may change everything, but I owe it to myself to find out. After hearing her friend Julia's story yesterday at the cook-out, I realize that my relationship insecurities are not abnormal. If I want this to work out, I going to have to put up a bit of a fight.

Aunt Jo's at work and I'm justifying my procrastination by weighing the time change. Trying to call anyone back home before noon would be too early or, at least, that's the excuse right now.

"Just tear off the band aid, Audrey! Since when did you become such a pussy?" I say the words out loud because talking to myself in my head is ineffective. I push the power switch and I'm startled by a phone ringing, but it's not my phone. Jo still has a landline? Who has landlines anymore?

I ignore it and watch as alerts bombard my phone. There's no sense in trying to look at any of them until it's done. Jo's answering machine clicks on and I laugh. How is such a hip woman still so stuck in the twentieth century technology wise? I barely notice when her voice switches from the pre-recorded message to real time and she's yelling my name to pick up. I run for the phone and grab it, wondering what's so damn important.

"Audrey, you need to call Tiffany."

"Don't tell me she's bugging you. I told her I'd call."

"It's not that, Audrey. It's your mom. She's in the hospital."

All the blood drains from my face and I nearly fall off my feet. "Is she... Is she okay?"

"I don't have the details. All I know is that she had some kind of attack. Call Tiffany. I'm on my way home now."

It's all my fault. I could hear it in her voice the day I called to tell her I was leaving. She knew I might never come back; she knew the thought had crossed my mind. I broke her heart all over again.

I'm waiting on the sidewalk when Jo pulls up. I jump in the car and we head towards the airport.

"Did you call Tiffany?"

"Yeah. It happened early this morning. She's stable and the doctors say she'll be okay, they're adjusting her meds. It was a massive anxiety attack, caused by too much stress. Tiffany says she's been calling for me. She's been begging me to come home, begging me not to leave her." I choke back a sob. "It's my fault, Jo."

"It's not your fault, sweetie." She reaches over and takes my hand, but there's nothing she can say to change my mind.

"It is. She's been lost since dad died and she thought she'd lost me too. I was selfish to leave."

"You weren't selfish. You're an adult and you needed some space. Losing your father was hard on all of us and not a day goes by that I don't miss my brother—"

"But she lost her heart. It was shattered into a million pieces and took her mind with it. Tiffany and I are all she has left. I know you mean well, but you don't understand her and you can't talk me out of how I feel. What's important now is getting to her and letting her know that I didn't mean to leave her and that I'll never do it again."

"Okay. I won't pry further, but now I understand it all."

"What do you understand?"

"Why you're so afraid to give your heart away."

I don't respond because I don't need to. But, once again she's proved that she's a wicked smart woman.

Audrey

While sitting in the hospital so that my sister could go home to shower and get some rest, I decide there's no time like the present to catch up on all the missed messages on my phone. Between Travis, Brandyn, Tiffany, and Phillip, there're at least a hundred. Tiffany's started when mom ended up in the hospital and Phillip's were just a bunch of goofy stuff like memes and selfies with some occasional words of wisdom. Travis' and Brandyn's were full of what the fucks and empty threats that if I didn't call soon they were going to kill me.

And lastly, there are the ones from Layne; at least, the ones that came through before I blocked him. I look at the last one. _Baby I love you. Please talk to me._ I close the message. I remember Aunt Jo's words but I don't think I can deal with him right now. I just can't give our future the focus consideration it deserves. I was going to call him before I left Boston but, now, I have other things to deal with.

I call Phillip to let him know I'm back in town and tell him about my mom. She always loved Phillip and accepted him for who he was. She cared more for him than his own blood. Of course, he said he'd come to see her; I wouldn't expect any less. He walks in the door to her room and walks straight to her.

"Your favorite adopted son has arrived."

She opens her eyes and smiles. "Phillip." He always has this effect on her, completely won her over from day one.

"Mama Scott, this is a very fancy hotel you're staying in this week. Do they have a pool with sexy pool boys?" He's always known how to make her laugh.

"No pool, but I think you'd like a couple of my nurses. There are a couple of cute ones." She winks.

"I'm sure I would." Just then one of them walks in and Phillip looks him up and down as he grabs my arm and pulls me into the hall while they check mom's vitals.

"Does Layne know you're back?"

I'm taken aback by his question. "No, he doesn't. Why are you asking me this right now? He's the least of my worries."

"He came to see me after you left. I think you should hear him out."

"Save me some time. What was his lame excuse for betraying and humiliating me? I saw him kissing some girl minutes after he told me he loved me and I told him I loved him back. He had the balls to fucking wait until he knew he had my heart just so he could break it. Maybe one day I'll want to hear how he could do that to me, but now is not that time." I turn away and leave Phillip chewing on my words. Maybe he'll be _my_ best friend now and let it go. But right now, I need to get back to my mother.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After two days of observation and adjusting her meds, Mom is doing much better and they cleared her to come home. With Mom's depression levels, they say it's possible it could happen again. But with a new regiment of medications and keeping her stress levels down, we should be able to keep the attacks at bay. They're also suggesting therapy but I don't see that happening because she doesn't trust anyone but Tiffany and me.

I have Tiffany drop me off at my house to get a few things and my car. When we pull up, I notice that Brandyn's car is in the driveway. Though I'd rather just run in and get out, it looks like I may have to offer an explanation. After the way I left, I guess she deserves something.

I walk in the house and she and Miles are sitting on the couch. Great! It was bad enough when I knew I'd have to deal with her, but now Layne's best friend is looking at me. His stare is not harsh but questioning and I feel like no matter what I tell him, his devotion will be to Layne. I offer a weak _hi_ and make my way to my room, not surprised when I hear Brandyn's footsteps behind me.

"I know," I say without looking at her, " _What the fuck_? You covered that in one of your text messages."

Bessie walks to the edge of the bed and I pick her up for some much deserved love after I practically abandoned her.

"I was actually going to say that I'm glad you're back and that you're okay. Everyone was worried about you."

"I'm far from okay, but I am back. My mom was in the hospital." Brandyn comes at me with one of her hugs.

"Oh my God, Audrey! Is she all right?"

"She's fine, and she's home now, but I'm going to stay over there for a few days to help Tiffany out."

"I totally understand." But then her demeanor changes and I can tell she's nervous about what she wants to say. "Does Layne know that you're back?"

"No. And I'd prefer it to stay that way for now. Please just do that for me."

"I will but, Audrey, I don't know what happened but he's been a wreck since you disappeared that night. It's like watching the giant fall. He misses you so much."

My eyes water over and I'm not sure which admission is responsible—hearing that he's a wreck like me or that he misses me.

"I just need a little more time and to make sure that my mom's going to be okay. The situation between Layne and I will have to wait. I know he's Layne's best friend, but ask Miles to keep quiet about my being here."

"I will, no guarantees though." She pulls me into another hug.

"No guarantees." Isn't that life and love in a nutshell?

Layne

Functioning with a piece of your heart missing is the hardest thing I've ever done. The only experience that even came close was losing my grandfather and that was different. Audrey is still here, still breathing, but not with me.

I stopped calling and sending texts, not because I don't care but because she still hasn't answered and maybe everyone is right—she just needs time. But what I hate is that the time she's spending is without the right information. I know what she saw but that's _not_ what happened. She's trying to come to terms with and make a decision based on a lie and I think that is as unfair to her as waiting for an unwarranted judgment is to me.

Miles and Brandyn showed up at the house tonight, I'm assuming so that he could get clothes or whatever. Brandyn has continued to be a real friend to Audrey in the way that if she knows anything she's not telling me. But I can tell that she feels for me a little bit too. Every time I see her she gives me a sympathetic smile, one that says she's just as stunned by all of this as I am, but tonight was different. Tonight, when she walked in with Miles, she gave me a quick and reserved look, then rushed off to his room. It made me think that something new has happened and she's trying hard to hide it.

I've hit road block after road block trying to find Audrey. I just want to talk to her, to explain, but no one will give me that chance. I'm going to find out what Brandyn's not saying—she's going to tell me. I walk down the hall towards Miles' room and, as I get closer, I hear their voices. They're hushed at first, but I figure the conversation is getting heated when Brandyn's voice gets louder and laced with frustration.

" _She's my best friend and I made her a promise. He can't know that she's back, not yet. She has enough to deal with."_

Has enough to deal with? Is she okay?

" _Yeah, well, I want my best friend back. She hasn't even talked to him or heard his side of anything. He's a fucking zombie and it's time for her to face him, at least give him a chance to explain whatever it was that started this shit-show."_

She's back, that's all that matters. I have to know where she is. I have to find her and make her listen to me. Before I can think better of it I grab the handle and throw the door open.

"Tell me where she is _now_."

Audrey

Since I'm back, I figure I should go back to work. Covering expenses from the small savings I have didn't leave that big a dent but there's no sense in using it any longer; I may actually need it one day. There's that and the fact that I've been working at least one job ever since high school. After the week in Boston and another here, I'm losing my mind with all the free time I have. Emma was happy to have me back at the coffee shop, but did say Phillip was only late twice in the time he was covering my shifts. Maybe my being gone had a positive influence on something, or should I say someone?

Steve, of course, gave me a guilt trip for ditching him. His words were, _I've been up to my ass in oil and air conditioners while you were on your little trip._ I then reminded him it's the one and only time I've ever taken off and that he runs a damn shop—oil and air conditioners, especially from May on, are what he signed up for. He backed down and welcomed me back with three air conditioner jobs.

I'm still staying at my mom's with Tiffany even though there's really no need. Mom's new medications seem to be working really well and she's started crocheting again because she says it keeps her calm. She makes little beanie caps and booties that she donates to the neonatal units for the newborns. It's the best I've seen her in years. She's apologized profusely about having the attack that forced me to come back. She said that as soon as she saw me, she could tell I was dealing with a problem and understood why I needed to get away from home to deal with it. But I told her that getting away from home didn't help anything, it was all still waiting for me when I got back.

We're sitting in the living room together, she's crocheting and I'm playing solitaire on the coffee table.

"Today, I was wondering, why haven't you gone home yet? Your sister and I don't expect you to stay here forever. We know you have a life."

"Not really. Not anymore." I know that by not saying much she'll use her _mothers always know_ psychic ability.

"I sense man troubles."

I don't answer and, just as I knew she would, she fits it all together.

"You love this man?" she asks without looking up from her project.

I search for my voice. Maybe that's all I ever needed was my mom to help me through this. "I did. Actually, I still do. That's why it's so hard to face him. He betrayed me, in my head I know that, but how am I supposed to make my heart understand, when all it wants is him?"

"Unfortunately, the head and the heart rarely agree. But you must remember that the head has the ability to be influenced. Everything you see, everything you hear, and the feelings of others all have the power to change what you think. That's not true with the heart. It just feels what it feels and it's rarely swayed. If you ask me, I'd put more trust in what your heart feels than what your head thinks."

I think my mom is the most brilliant woman ever.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today, I'm going back home. Mom and Tiffany didn't kick me out, but it's time for me to get back to my life and deal with what I've been avoiding. I've been thinking a lot about me and Layne, and if there's any way I can get past what happened. Can I listen to his side of things and possibly forgive him? The truth is, I'm not sure I can. But if I don't give him a chance, I'll never know. I'll lose the first man I ever loved and, even worse, maybe for nothing.

When I get to the house, it's empty except for Bessie. I pick her up and love her, feeling guilty for the time I've been away. Cats don't generally care if they have humans around, but I feel bad that I haven't been here. We walk to my room and I put Bessie down on my bed. As I do, I notice an envelope propped against the pillow. There's no name but it must be for me, so I pick it up and open it.

_Please give me a chance to explain. L._

I hold the note to my chest and the tears start to fall. I sit down on my bed and ask myself so many questions. Am I ready to let go? Does what happened change how I feel? Do I still love him? In the end, only one answer matters. I jump up and practically run to the living room, grab my keys and my wallet, and head towards the door.

The whole way there I'm wondering what I'm going to say to him. He's not the only one that owes an explanation. The day he met me I showed him that I'm a girl who stands up for myself, now I need to explain why I ran away.

I pull up in front of the house and his car isn't here. I pound my hands on the steering wheel in frustration and, in doing so, accidentally hit the horn. Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement and I realize that Miles is standing in the door. Then he starts moving in my direction.

"He's not here," he says, irritated. No doubt having to deal with Layne the last couple of weeks hasn't been easy on him.

"Do you know when he'll be back?"

"He has a lesson today and left about an hour ago."

I start the car and put it in gear but, before I pull away, Miles speaks. "Audrey, I know Layne can be an asshole, a real jerk sometimes. But when he loves someone, he loves them with his whole heart. I never saw that until you came into his life. You leaving broke him in a way I never thought possible. He loves you Audrey, you have to believe that."

"I do believe it, because I love him too. I'm going to fix us, or die trying. You're a good friend, Miles. Thank you." And I pull away.

It's time to get the only guy whose ever had my heart back.

### ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I get to the airport, I pull into the parking spot right next to Layne's Charger and look at my watch. His lessons usually run sixty to ninety minutes, which means that he should be coming down any time now. I search the sky, wondering if I can spot his plane. All I remember is that it has red stripes on it, but I can't see anything.

As the minutes tick on and the moment of truth gets closer, I realize that I still have no idea what I'm going to say. I figure the words will come to me when they're needed. But what I'm more nervous about is confronting Layne about that girl. Why was he kissing her? That's all I want to know—why?

A few more minutes go by and I hear, then see, a plane coming in for a landing. I squint and lift my sunglasses to get a better look. I can make out red—I think it's him. My heart starts to race and the thought of leaving sprints through my mind. But I didn't come here to leave without knowing where my life is going and if our love is salvageable. I came here to show Layne that I'm the same girl he met at the gas station, the same girl who refused his ride when I felt like shit hungover, and the same girl who could argue anything to death just to be right. I'm not the weak girl who ran. He won't get off easy. He may even say things I don't want to hear, but he deserves the chance to say them. I'll either love him more or I may not love him at all when all is said and done. I'm minutes from finding out.

Another thirty minutes pass when a figure walks toward me, Layne's figure, and my heart speeds with nervous excitement. As he gets closer, I expect to see a smile on his face but I don't. Maybe I'm too late to mend what's broken between us.

"Audrey," he says as he stops in front of me.

"Layne." I have no idea how to start. "I—"

"I know what you saw, and why you ran, but you never gave me the chance to explain, to set the record straight."

"That's why I'm here now. I wasn't fair and I know that what I did may change everything. But I—"

"The girl you saw me with was Mel but, _I_ didn't kiss her, Audrey. She kissed me and what you didn't see was me pushing her away and telling her that I was in love with someone else—with you."

I choke back a sob. The jealousy sparked the first time I heard Mel's name no longer seems unwarranted. And if I knew that night what I know now I would've killed her. There's no question Layne's me telling the truth. All the time I spent running, putting both of us through hell, and it was all for nothing. He never betrayed me and, had I given him the chance to explain, I'd have known that. I step closer to him, but he steps back.

"What is it, Layne? Why are you backing away?"

"Because I can't do this again, knowing that every time there's a bump in the road you're going to run. I know this whole relationship thing is new for both of us but, if you can't trust me, it won't work. I'd rather let you go than not have your trust."

His words are powerful, like I've been hit by a heavy-weight fighter, but he's right. How can I claim that I love him when I jumped to conclusions? One that coincidentally gave me the out I thought I'd need to keep my heart from being broken, but left it broken anyway. But I love him. I have to make him see that.

"I was wrong and I should've had more trust in you. I should've had more trust in _us_. Layne, I never expected to fall in love with you because that meant I'd be giving you power over my heart. I saw what doing that did to my mom when she lost my dad and again when my sister and Travis broke up. Truth is, I fell for you that night on the peak, I was just too afraid to admit it."

"Are you still afraid?"

I think for a long minute because this _is_ the moment of truth and we both deserve it.

"If you're asking if I'm afraid to love you and let you love me, the answer is no. If you're asking if I'm afraid to trust you completely, the answer is no." The next words forming in my mind cause tears to fill my eyes. "But if you're asking if I'm afraid that if I let you walk away from me right now, I'll lose the best thing that ever happened to me, the answer is yes a million times."

Layne

I understand being scared of this new feeling because I'm not immune to the fear that comes with giving your heart to someone. I gave my heart to Audrey and, though she may have questioned my love, she still has it and I don't want it back.

I close the distance between us and cup her face with my hands. Her glossy eyes find mine and I see the fear and hope that lives in them. It's simple. I can't live without her and I'll do whatever it takes to remind her every day of our lives.

"Audrey, there hasn't been and _never_ will be anyone but you."

A tear frees itself from her beautiful blue eyes and relief shines in them. I bring my lips to hers and, as soon as they touch, I know more than ever that she is the missing piece that makes my life complete.

Audrey

I wake to kisses on my shoulder and Layne's arm tight over my waist. Even if I did want to move, I couldn't.

"Good morning," he whispers in my ear and it sends a shiver down my neck.

"Good morning," I say and wiggle under his arm so I can turn and face him. "So, is it all you ever imagined?" I know he'll know what I'm referring to.

"Everything and more. I'd even go as far as to say that _this_ morning is the best morning of my life so far."

"I think you're right." I lean in and leave a kiss on his nose.

"I want this every morning, Audrey. I want your face and your smile to be the first thing I see every day for the rest of my life." There's that familiar fear that always creeps up whenever we talk about the future but I'm tired of being scared, weak, and afraid of what I stand to lose. I have Layne now and I love him, and that's all that matters. I push that fear down deep and lock it away because it almost cost me everything already.

"I think I'd like that."

His smile makes my heart skip a beat and it's all the reassurance I need. "Audrey, I have a confession to make."

"What's that?" I grab his hand and bring it to my mouth to kiss his knuckles.

"The night at the cliff, I told you that I didn't take you there to have sex with you, and I wasn't lying. But I did take you up there and feed you the worst dinner ever hoping that you'd fall for me. I already knew I was going to fall for you."

"I have a confession to make then too; I didn't lose the hand the night that you bet me the date at the peak."

He looks at me questioningly.

"I wanted to go with you. I wanted to eat bad food and watch the sunset with the guy I knew I was going to fall for." I giggle.

"So, you threw the hand?"

I nod and smile.

"What did you have?"

"Three Aces and—I was holding the wild card."

He laughs. "Well, I'm pretty sure I've been holding a wild card of my own ever since—you.

Layne

I bring in the last of Audrey's boxes and set them in our room. I love the sound of that. It's not her house or my house anymore, it's ours. In fact, it's all four of ours. Once Audrey starts her summer courses, I'll never see her between it and the two jobs, so I encouraged her to give one of them up and move in with me. It's also the only way I can guarantee that hers is the first beautiful face I see every morning and before I close my eyes every night.

She resisted at first; both of her bosses are good friends and she's worked with them for a long time. In the end, she gave up the coffee shop because she knew Phillip could handle it. She hoped that her absence would encourage him to step up and show Emma he could be more responsible. It's going to be an adjustment, but I think it's all for the best.

Brandyn moved in too. After I told Miles I was going to ask Audrey, he confessed that asking Brandyn had been on his mind for a while, but he didn't want to ask because it was my house. Knowing that Audrey's moving would impact Brandyn too, I figured that if I could have the girl of my dreams under the same roof, why couldn't Miles have that too? So, now it's going to be the four of us, and let's not forget Bessie.

"If it's not in this house, it can stay outside forever. I'm done." Audrey walks in and throws herself on the bed exhausted.

"Now we get the chore of putting it away."

She looks at me with squinted eyes and gives me the finger.

"I love it when you talk dirty to me."

"Yeah well, you know what I love?"

"What's that?"

She stands up and moves across the room, stopping right in front of me. She places her hands around my neck and looks deep into my eyes.

"I love you." Then she closes the space between us.

Life in Vegas isn't all glamour and glitz. It's not bright lights and big wins all the time. Real people live here and have real struggles just like everywhere else. Nothing comes easy, nothing comes cheap, and there's no such thing as a sure thing. As I've learned recently, it's all about timing, it's all about luck, and even love's a gamble in fabulous Las Vegas.

The End

Sneak peek into

Playing the Rush

Love's a Gamble Series #2

Brandyn and Miles Story

Copyright held by Mareta L. Miller

Pre-edited version

Chapter 1

Brandyn

I wake up to the sound of his guitar but I don't let him know, I just listen. He does this all the time. He gets up in the middle of the night, but I find it hard to mind being woken up, no matter the time, when such beauty fills the room. The sound of him strumming his guitar, creating tunes no one else has ever heard. Him humming along with unsung lyrics grabs my heart and makes everything I feel for him so much stronger. I only wish I could tell him that.

I knew the very moment I laid my eyes on Miles Kinkade that I would fall in love with him. His dark hair, just long enough that I can run my fingers through, and a mustache that screams sophisticated and intelligent. I knew he could never be mine. But I was wrong and now, I'm the girl lying in our bed playing possum so that I can hear him play a song that will be our secret until it's finished and he brings it to life and sets it free.

Suddenly he stops playing and I hear him sigh as though he's frustrated. I lie still and continue to hide the fact that I'm awake, knowing what will come next. I hear the musical thud his guitar makes as he sets it against the wall and I know the next sound I'll hear is the shuffle of his feet as he makes his way to the dresser, no doubt not for the first time tonight. That's where the bottle sits. It's the only thing that stands between us. It's the reason I can't share everything I feel for him.

I want to stop him from doing it, from turning to drinking every time he feels stuck, but I don't. I'm too afraid that he'd do it anyway and I'd be forced to see which one of us was more important to him. I'm even more afraid that I'll find out it's not me. So, I've gotten creative. I keep my methods very subtle and, so far, they've worked as they're meant to. When you can't stop a situation, cause a distraction.

"Baby?" I ask sleepily and turn in the bed. My eyes adjust and I find his silhouette almost exactly where I expected it would be.

"It's okay babe. I just couldn't sleep." He's getting closer to the dresser and my time is running out. I know the window behind me allows him to see me much better than I can see him, so I sit up allowing the sheet to fall to my waist and to show my naked upper half.

"I heard you playing. It was beautiful."

"I was just messing around. Trying to clear my head."

"Maybe I can help you." I can see the white of his eyes and know that he's looking at me, then I see his teeth as he smiles.

"You have to work in the morning. You need your rest." I know it's not, at least I hope it's not, an effort to blow me off. To distract me from distracting him. He's always worried about how our schedules conflict. My life and career likes daylight while his dream thrives on the night.

But I don't care about what time it is or how many hours remain before I have to get up. Right now, I want to keep him from taking that drink—I want to replace the drink. I sit up on my knees, the sheet's now completely fallen, bearing for him all my nakedness, and crawl to the corner of the bed. I straighten up to meet his height and reach out to pull him toward me.

"I need you." I say seductively and kiss his shoulder. My plan is working. His hands graze my waist and my skin burns as they move upward to cover my breasts. A moan escapes my lips. Though my advance started as a mission, his touch is something I always crave.

His hands roam to my backside and he pulls me closer to him. I feel his arousal and know that my efforts have succeeded. He takes my mouth and I give it willingly, the taste of him as intoxicating as the first time he ever kissed me. Slowly we're moving backwards and he's falling on top of me in that way that feels so primal, so right.

He's focused on our pleasure now, bringing both of our bodies to place only we can get to together. My body hums with unsung lyrics while he plays it with the same care he plays his guitar. I know he's not thinking about that drink anymore, he's found another way to get drunk. He's going to drink on my body tonight, and I'm going to celebrate the victory. Tonight, instead of a swig of tequila, it will be me who takes him away from the demons in his mind.

Miles

I wake up to an empty bed and a cold cup of coffee on the nightstand. It's quite normal for me to wake up in the late morning to have Brandyn already gone for the day. It's also quite lonely sometimes. I've gotten used to having her here, spoiled really, and every moment that I'm not with her just makes me want her more. Brandyn is like a ray of light in my otherwise dark world, a world I try to keep from her. For the most part I do, except for one thing, I drink. I'd like to think it's not a big fucking deal.

It's been my Novocain since the day my mom died. It helps me fight off the demons that I know live inside me. It keeps me from dwelling on the fact that at twenty-three I basically became an orphan. I had both of my parents ripped from me—I never even had the chance to know my father because he died before I was born.

I know it seems like I should've learned to deal with it by now, but after my mother died I gave up hope of anything or anyone ever lasting in my life. If the people who brought me into this world left me, maybe I was meant to be alone. I know it sounds like I'm throwing myself a pity party, but that's how I feel. That is, until I met Brandyn.

I would've never expected a girl like her to walk into the music store asking if we had a copy of Metallica's Master of Puppets. She was too proper. She didn't have a hair out of place and her makeup made her look like a model or movie star. Immediately I pegged her as the mean girl type from high school. A bitchy princess there on a dare.

She wasn't covered in black with spikes or chains holding her outfit together or a chain tethered between her ear and nose to make sure they stayed connected. She was beautiful and bright, and right there in front of me.

My first thought was that she must have been lost, maybe Siri delivered her to the wrong address. There was no way she was looking for vintage music or guitar repair, but it didn't matter how she got there, she was there and I had to know why. Usually I'd yell a greeting from behind the counter, but I wanted to get closer.

I walked over to where she was flipping through CD's. "Can I help you find something?"

She looks up at me, eyes like doe, and I was a goner. "Just looking. Well, actually, I'm trying to find a Metallica album, Master of Puppets?"

"Metallica fan, huh? Very respectable." I flip through a set of discs and pull it out, handing it to her.

"You're awesome! Yeah, my car got broken into a couple of weeks ago and all my CD's were stolen." She holds up the disc in her hand, "All I can say is they had good taste in music. But this was the one I missed the most. Thanks for helping me find it."

"Maybe I can help you find the rest too. Hit me, what other amazing music does your heart desire?"

She smiled and I knew I wanted to see that smile again and again, maybe even forever.

We picked through boxes for at least an hour, replacing her collection. Some people would have given her the riot about going digital, asking questions like, who listens to CD's anymore and don't you have an iPod? But I get it. I'd prefer records myself, but in your car, records are not an option and cassette tapes don't last through the Vegas summers.

Just as she was about to leave I handed her a flyer for the gig my band had the coming weekend. Though I didn't think she'd actually show up, she did. She danced to all my songs while holding my eyes every time they'd land on her. It was like she was the only girl in the room and at the end of the set. And when a couple of girls were all about hooking up with someone from the band, she was the only one I saw.

It's been months and I still feel the same way I did that first night. I only have eyes for my blonde-haired girl with the doe eyes and a perfect smile that could melt a million hearts. I fell for her completely and almost instantly. Lane didn't get it at first. He was a playboy and though he was happy for me, he couldn't understand why I wanted to be with only one woman. Maybe it was my mom's fault. Maybe just being the two of us my whole life taught me that all it takes is one amazing woman to make your life complete and I'd found that one amazing woman in Brandyn.

My mother would've loved her. She would've fallen for Brandyn's bubbly personality and sense of humor in a heartbeat. I like to think that, as she looks down on me now, she's smiling and knows Brandyn is one part of me that's right. That's happy, that's content, and that doesn't struggle with the demons.

Coming late 2019

Acknowledgments & inspiration

In this book I took parts of me from different stages in my life and played them against each other. For long time, I was the no relationships girl. For reasons different from both Layne and Audrey's I was essentially both of them. I was both the spicy, sassy, independent female who didn't need a man in her life, and the one who had been so scared with a relationship that another was the last thing I wanted. But, I too found the one who changed what I wanted, and I'm proud to call him my husband.

The mountain and the cliff in this story does exist. And the sunset Audrey and Layne experienced is truly one of the most majestic and captivating things I've ever seen. Maybe I'll dig up a photo so you can see for yourself.

As far as the series and what's to come, well I have a lot in store. As you've seen, Miles and Brandyn's story will unfold and I don't think you'll see what I have in store. I also have a story for Phillerup, you'll learn just what happened between Travis and Tiffany, and I even have a plan for Emma and Steve. In the end they'll all gamble with love, but will they all win? Take a gamble on me, and you'll find out.

To my Amy—nowadays it's so rare to meet someone who is so sweet and real, especially in Vegas. You have so much to give and, as I've told you before, there was a reason we met. Knowing that you're always willing to help and that you wait patiently (impatiently) for my next books when I'm the slowest writer in the world, makes what I do so much more worth it. I write because it's what I love, but you and others like you make me feel like I don't need a USA Today bestseller because without it I'm good enough for the ones that count. Everyone deserves someone like you in their life.

To my husband and kids—thanks for accepting that, although these characters make me insane sometimes, they're also the key to my sanity. Thank you for supporting my passion, for understanding that I'm never alone in my head, and wanting me to succeed. And know that I could not do any of this without all of you.

Seven years ago, I lost my mom. Not a day goes by that I don't wish I could see her, hug her, share a book plot with her, and watch her blush at the dirty words I sometimes write. But I know she's always with me and I know I would've never had the strength to take this chance if it wasn't for the courage I learned from her.

To the real Phillip in my life who has allowed me to call him Phillerup since the day we met, I bet you never thought your nickname would make its way into a book. Thank you.

To my grandmother, whom I always thought I was nothing like, but realized in the end that we had so much in common. She was never more proud of me than when she read my books. She never got the chance to read the last, but now she'll be one of the angels that helps me through many to come.

To Megan Cutler—thanks so much for getting a girl out of a tight spot and earning yourself a client for life. There are four more books in the series, so you're stuck with me.

And to the readers. It is my absolute honor and pleasure to share my stories with you. I hope they make you smile. I hope they make you cry. I hope they touch you in a special way or spark a memory that you'd long forgotten. Thank you all for reading my words. It means more to me than you'll ever know.

Other books by Mareta L. Miller

### The Ninety-Nine Roses Series: includes,

### Telling Me with Roses, Stemming from Secrets, &

### Blooming with Love (all also sold separately)

### Fighting for Us

### Whiskey

## Jack

### Contributed work to the charity Anthology: Vegas Strong

### Paperbacks available from Mareta L. Miller directly @

http://www.Maretalmiller.com

Follow me on Facebook, twitter, &  Good reads

### @MaretaLMiller

