Page 31

Layla

I try to keep my head down when it comes to tense situations, but right now, the way Ashley is looking at me? Speaking to Teagan like I’m not right here in his arms? It has me seeing red. So, when I tell her who exactly I am, the look of terror on her face is worth it.

“Marcos Diaz… is your… brother?”

The way she stutters over the words is so satisfying. I like to think I’m a kind person, but sometimes my inner bitch comes out.

“Yep,” I say, popping the ‘p’. “In fact, we just realized how connected we all are. Small world, isn’t it? I mean, what are the chances that the man you betrayed would be the love of my life? And the man you cheated with is my brother - who didn’t know you were already dating someone, by the way.” I roll my eyes, sarcasm dripping in my voice. “ Such a crazy coincidence! ”

Teagan stiffens behind me, his hand splaying across my stomach as his thumb brushes the underside of my breast—either in warning or to piss her off. Ashley notices, so I draw my fingers along the veins of his forearm. Color stains her cheeks as she gapes, open-mouthed at us.

“Anyway,” I say, untangling myself from Teagan. “We’re done in the bathroom now, so it’s all yours. And don’t worry, we cleaned up our mess.”

Winking at her, I pull Teagan away from the bathrooms and back to my brothers.

Once we’re out of her line of sight, I veer toward the bar, desperate for a drink that isn’t Tito’s. The bartender is busy, so I lean with my back against the bar, elbows propped on top behind me. Teagan is staring at me with an unreadable expression.

“What?”

Closing the small gap between us, he snatches my chin between his finger and thumb, lifting my head so our eyes meet. “Are you alright?”

Confused, I ask, “What do you mean?”

A soft smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve just never seen you so…”

“Bitchy?”

He drops his hand, giving me a wry look. “I was going to say confrontational. I’ve never seen you so confrontational. And to be perfectly honest, I’m rather turned on by it.”

A sharp laugh escapes me. “Was what we just did in the bathroom not enough for you?”

Bending so his lips brush my ear, he whispers, “It will never be enough for me, Cailín.”

I can’t even tease him because I feel the same - I always want him. He stirs up desire so strong, it can barely be contained. Words are powerful, so telling him that I love him is enough, but showing him with my body connects us on a deeper level. Touching him is addicting. I love the feel of his skin and those sculpted muscles under my hands, my tongue. I love the way his hard edges sink into the cushion of my body, how his strong hands hold me to him. Teagan makes me feel safe and confident, shielding me from anyone or anything that makes me question myself, all while empowering me to go after what I want from life.

Overcome by these thoughts, I fling myself at him, hugging him tight. He doesn’t even hesitate to fold me into his arms.

“What’s this for, Lovely?” He lets out a small laugh.

“I love you,” I whisper into his ear. “So much.”

He tightens his hold and kisses my neck before murmuring against my skin, “I love you too, Layla.”

“Are you okay? Is this the first time you’ve seen her since she left?”

I’d be okay to never talk about Ashley again, but he has to be feeling some kind of way after not only learning who she’d been cheating with but also coming face to face with her.

“Aye,” he says, leaning back to look at me. “I can’t say I enjoyed seeing her, but it was only painful in the sense that it was awkward as fuck.”

Tilting my head to the side, I ask, “Awkward because we got caught fucking in the bathroom?”

A low chuckle sounds from his throat. “No, lass. I have no shame when it comes to you and the things I like to do to this body.”

He emphasizes the words by coasting his hands from my hips to just under my breasts. To anyone watching, it looks like he’s holding my sides, but in the pocket of space between us, he’s brushing his thumbs over my nipples. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I attempt to quell the fire burning in my core. God bless those large goalie hands.

“Honestly,” he continues, “I mostly felt embarrassed for her. She fancied herself in love with a new bloke, only to uproot her life and find he didn’t feel the same. How’s the saying go? ‘What goes around comes around?’”

“Or ‘Karma’s a bitch’,” I supply.

Teagan laughs and the smile that accompanies it lights up my entire world. Yeah, he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met, but he has a genuinely beautiful soul. Never have I encountered anyone who radiates so much goodness. He’s kind, thoughtful, caring, and sincere. He’s funny but knows when to be serious. I love how he reads my every move and knows exactly what I need, whether it be words of encouragement, squeezing my hand to let me know he’s there, or a quick and dirty fuck in the bathroom of a club.

* * *

It’s the last full day with my family before we fly back to North Carolina. Although the trip has been better than I could have ever imagined, I’m more than ready to be home in my normal routine, around my friends, and able to unwind with Teagan in the comfort of a quiet and empty house.

I’ve just sat down to join my parents and sisters for breakfast at the table, a cup of coffee in hand when my phone rings. The screen lights up with Norah’s name.

“Hey, chica,” I answer quickly.

“Hey! How’s your trip going?”

I know Norah’s voice and right now she sounds distracted.

“It’s been a lot of fun. What’s up? Is everything okay? You seem frazzled.”

“Ugh. I’m really sorry. I wasn’t going to bother you, but I need a huge favor,” she says, the words rushing out of her.

“Okay, lay it on me.”

“We need help with the makeup for the drag show. The cast is huge and we don’t have enough artists to handle it all. Please, please, please will you join the team? I’ll make you dinner every night for a week!”

My first instinct is to decline because I’ve been doing it for years with my parent’s voices in my head telling me it’s not realistic, but there’s another voice—with a warm, Irish accent—reminding me to not let anyone hold me back from my dreams. For the first time in my life, I feel empowered to stand up for what I want. If it backfires, then at least I learned and can say that I tried.

“We could even just use this as a trial,” Norah says quickly, thinking my hesitation is because I’m turning her down. “If you hate doing the drag show, then no harm, no foul, but if you love it, I’m pretty certain Dr. Andrews has a paid position open that I guarantee he’d hire…”

“I’ll do it,” I cut in. I need my best friend to breathe, not talk a million words a minute.

“Wait, really?”

I laugh at the shock in her voice. “Yeah, send me the details so I can ask off at the store. And if it’s a good fit, I’ll happily take that job.”

“Oh my god, Layla! Thank you!” Norah squeals so loud I have to hold the phone away from my ear. “I can’t wait to show you what I have in store for the guys. Teagan will hate me, but it will be worth it!”

This gets me laughing, remembering the bet he lost and how he’ll be modeling Norah’s designs for the cast and crew. I can’t wait to remind him when he gets back. Marcos and Rafael invited him to join some friends for a pickup game early this morning, so he was gone before I woke up.

“I literally cannot wait to do Teagan’s makeup,” I tell Norah. “Highlighting those cheekbones of his is a secret dream come true.”

“Right? What is it with these Irishmen and their perfectly chiseled faces?” The amount of conversations we’ve had about Eamon and Teagan’s physical appearance is borderline obsessive.

“And bodies,” I add, because, well, they’re works of art.

“Girl, that is no lie,” she sighs longingly. “Alright, I need to get back to the drawing board, but thank you a million times!”

“I still expect dinner for a week, Norie.”

“Duh. You know I’m good for it.”

We say our goodbyes and as I’m setting my phone down, I glance up to see my parents staring at me.

“What?”

“What was that about?” Mami demands.

“Oh, Norah needs help doing the makeup for the spring play. Since she knows how much I love doing that, she asked if I could help.” I pause, taking a deep breath before telling them the rest. “And, if it’s something I enjoy, there will be a job waiting for me in the department. Which means I can finally quit the grocery store.”

Papá looks at me thoughtfully, but Mami purses her lips, disapproval coloring her face.

“Mija, do you think that’s a good idea? The makeup industry isn’t reliable. And what about your degree?”

“What about my degree?” I challenge. “I’m still going to have it regardless of where I’m working. This is my dream, Mami. I would love to be a professional makeup artist. This could be the start of something great.”

“Baby, you know that I want you to be happy, right? Makeup could be a good hobby for you, but it’s not a serious job. How will you provide for your babies?”

“Por favor, Mami. I don’t have babies. And I don’t want babies.”

She gasps loudly, slapping a hand to her chest in horror.

“At least not for a long while,” I amend. “I’m only twenty-three. There’s so much life I want to live, things I want to explore before I dedicate myself to raising children. I need you to be supportive of this.”

“How can you say I’m not supportive?” Her hand slaps the tabletop and the twins’ heads snap up from their phones, eyes wary. “I’m your mother, of course I’m supportive! I’m also trying to be realistic! All I want is for you to be successful and happy.”

“Who’s to say that I can’t be both doing something different? Are my only options to be a wife and mother or a businesswoman? What if I just want to be me? What if the thing that makes me happy is following a dream that’s different than yours?”

Tears fill my eyes, but I’ll be damned if I let them fall. I’ve never raised my voice at my mother until today, and if the shock on her face is any indication, she’s just as upset over it as I am.

“Mami, I don’t want to fight with you, but I need you to give me the space and freedom to make my own choices. And mistakes. That’s what life is all about, right? I’ll never know the potential I have until I try.”

“She’s right, Raquel,” My father’s gentle voice says, leaving me at a loss for words.

“Roberto!”

“ Mi amor , don’t you remember how our parents told us we were too young to get married? Your mother even told you to not waste your life with a ‘ vaquero like Roberto Diaz’. Aren’t you glad we didn’t listen? Look what we would have missed out on.” He gestures toward me and my sisters.

She softens as she surveys us, contemplating my father’s words. A tear spills onto her cheek as she looks over at him. “You’re right. All I wanted was to be a wife and mother, specifically your wife and the mother of your children.”

He slides his hand over hers on top of the table, squeezing gently. “You worried about the boys too, remember? Especially Marcos.”

Mami scoffs while my sisters and I titter at the memory of the fight they got into when he said he wanted to pursue a career as a professional footballer.

“That boy,” she shakes her head. “So stubborn. But he proved me wrong, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did. Now, let’s give Layla the chance to do the same.”

The tears I’ve been holding back escape at my father’s words. I always thought he felt the same as Mami.

“Papá,” I choke out. “Thank you.”

“Oh, princessa.” He slides from his chair and comes to my side, squatting so that we’re at eye level. He cups my cheek, making me feel like a little girl again. “Your mother and I want the best for you, but sometimes we forget that what we think is best isn’t actually the best for you at all. At the end of the day, the decision is always yours. What’s important is that you feel not only loved and valued for who you are, but supported with the decisions you make as well.”

Mami joins us, running a hand over my hair. “I’m sorry, Layla. It wasn’t fair of me to expect you to live the same life I did. Why did you never talk to us about this before?”

She’s still stroking my hair in a soothing manner and the words tumble out. “I didn’t want to disappoint you or ruin our relationship.”

“Oh, Layla.” She squats next to my father and cups my face in her hands. “Listen to me. There is nothing— nothing— you could do to disappoint me or push me away. I may not always agree, and we may have our fights and need some space, but I’ll always be your Mami. You’ll always be my chiquita. I love you so much, and that will never change.”

“I love you too,” I murmur.

When my parents wrap me in their arms, hugging me tight, the tears I’ve been keeping at bay break free.

I wasn’t going to cry, dammit.

“So,” Jazmina interrupts. “Does this mean that Cori and I can just skip this part when we’re older? Since you’ve already learned where you went wrong with the older three?”

“Absolutely not!” Mami nearly shouts. “You’ll go through as many, if not more, life lessons than your siblings combined, pequenas divas !”

The girls grumble in annoyance which makes our Papá chuckle. They don’t realize how good they’ve got it, but then again, neither did I at their age. They don’t have the extra task of raising their three year old selves like I did though.

While we wait for Teagan and the boys to come back, I catch my family up on the theme of the spring play, telling them how Teagan lost the bet with Norah. The girls are giggling and my parents are howling with laughter. When I tell them that Norah has a red Devil costume planned for him, I’m slightly concerned that Papá is going to pass out with how hard he’s laughing. His face is beet red and tears stream down his cheeks. I’ve never seen him get this tickled over anything.

“We’re back!” Marcos calls out from the front of the house and we try to school our features before they enter the dining area. “Layla, your boy can do more than just protect the net. Why didn’t you tell me that he…”

He stops short when he sees our father’s face.

“Aye, I’m more than just a pretty face who’s good with his hands,” Teagan’s voice enters the room before his face does. He’s sweaty and red-faced, but has the biggest smile on his face. “You just ask your sis…oh. Hiya, love.”

“Speak of the devil…” Cori mutters, and all of us at the table hold our breath to see who will break first.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, it’s Papá.