Worth Saving(45)

“Oh my god, I said I had to let her win. You’re always talking shit. Before you leave, me and you are gonna go out there and play. Then, we’ll see what’s up,” I snap back.

Once I’m done with my rant, I finally see Layla come strutting into the building. She’s wearing thick, gray leggings and a long black sweater that nearly reaches her knees. She’s wearing black heels that make all kinds of noise when she steps, so there’s a bunch of people watching her walk through the lobby.

She’s stunning. Her dark brown hair is long and swaying behind her as she steps, and I feel like my jaw is on the floor as I watch her. There’s other guys in the lobby staring at her too, some of them getting caught by their girlfriends and getting hit in the arm. There’s a small part of me that feels defensive when I see them gawking, but I don’t act on it. I just enjoy the fact that I’m the one she’s approaching.

“Holy shit, Austin, is this her?” I hear Jason whisper.

“Yeah,” I say, keeping my eyes fixated on Layla as I wave her over.

“Job well done, sir,” he says under his breath, then he changes his tone once Layla’s within earshot. “Hi, you must be Layla!”

I lean over and give Layla a hug and quick kiss on the cheek, then I make the introduction.

“Layla, this is my good friend, Jason Adrien,” I say to her. “And this tall, dark, and handsome fellow over here is his business partner, Jordan Harper.”

“Nice to meet you both,” she says with a smile.

“So, I heard you beat Austin at basketball. He sucks,” Jason says, not wasting anytime being himself.

Layla smiles and jumps right in the conversation, not intimidated by his energy at all.

“He’s not so bad,” she replies, smiling at me. “How about you, do you play basketball?”

“I do a little bit of balling, both on and off the court. My friends actually call me LeBron,” Jason quips. All of us laugh. He’s such an ass.

“LeBron? Well, I hope you’re not as overrated as he is,” Layla comments, and I see the shift in Jason’s face.

“Did you say overrated? You’ve gotta be kidding me. How’s he overrated?” Jason says.

“Well, when you’re six-foot eight, two hundred sixty pounds, all you have to do is get a running start and sprint towards the basket just like LeBron does. I could do that too, if I was that size.”

“Oh my gosh! I don’t believe what I’m hearing!” Jason snaps.

Jordan and I can see where this is going, considering Jason is a ridiculous LeBron James fan and Layla loves the Bulls, so the two of us decide to lead by example and walk towards the theatre our movie is supposed to show in.

“Umm, the movie is about to start, so we’ll have to continue this debate at a later time,” Jordan says as we start walking.

We decide to skip concessions and head straight for the theater. It’s not too packed inside, which is great, because I prefer sitting in the back as opposed to being stuck up front getting a crick in my neck.

We choose the back row, but we stay on the edge next to the aisle instead of scooting to the center. Jason and Jordan sit next to each other, and I sit on the other side of Jason with Layla on the opposite of me. I can tell Jason is about to lean over to try to keep the basketball conversation going with Layla, but the previews start up before he has the chance, and I couldn’t be more relieved.

As the show starts up, I use my peripheral vision to steal glances at Layla. She’s looking straight ahead at the screen, laughing at some preview for a comedy, but even in the low light, she’s unbelievably beautiful. I find myself admiring her every feature: her full lips, her long hair her laugh, her sexy little ears. She’s gorgeous, and I almost have to snap myself out of it when I see the previews are over and the movie is beginning.

“I’m glad you came,” I whisper to her as I settle in, and the movie opens up with a fight scene.

She looks over at me and smiles. “I’m glad you invited me.”

About fifteen minutes into the movie, the emotion of the film goes up dramatically. All four of us are on the edges of our seats when a fight breaks out on screen and the wife of the lead character is shot and killed. Even though we all knew it was coming from what we saw in the preview, it still hits like a ton of bricks when we find out she’s dead and the remnants of her family are struggling with it. The father and daughter or both crying, and even I’m emotional over it. I feel my body temperature going up when I think about how the wife was shot in the stomach because it reminds me of what happened to Lieutenant Weston. I have to fight to block out the thoughts of his death, so I turn to look at Layla. When I glance at her, I see that she’s crying. The emotion on the screen has gotten the best of her, and she has small tears trying to stream down her face. She wipes them away a couple times, and something in me sees this as an opportunity. I watch her dab at her eye one last time, then I make my move. I don’t know if it’s too soon or too much for her, but I reach over and grab ahold of her hand. I interlock my fingers with hers and lightly rub her skin, hoping it comforts her, and praying she doesn’t snatch her hand away in disgust. To my pleasant surprise, she looks over at me and smiles, then tightens her grip. I smile back, and we both go back to watching the movie.

As the movie goes on, I know both of us are trying to act like holding hands isn’t a big deal, but I feel like it is for both of us. It’s a sign that Layla is starting to let her guard down with me, at least a little. I mean, we still haven’t had sex, and we haven’t really defined what this is, but it’s starting to look and feel like something that’s for real. Holding hands isn’t a life-altering thing. Hell, every teenager in the world holds hands when they go to the movies with their boyfriend and girlfriend, but for the two of us, it means much more. So, even though I sit there silently as Jake Gyllenhaal kicks ass on the screen, I’m smiling inside.