Not the Stand In
Layla Messner waited in line at Federico's Pizza in the heart of Buffalo, New York, planning to order the Thursday night special: two cheese slices and a large soft drink. She sighed and shifted as the guy in front of her took his sweet time staring at the takeout menu and quizzing the guy behind the counter about every item.
"Are the peppers on the sausage sub hot peppers? No? What kind of cheese is on the ham and cheese sub? Do you have Swiss cheese? Okay, give me a large ham and cheese. No, wait. Make that a roast beef. Does that come with Russian dressing?"
Oh, God. Layla folded her arms and rolled her eyes. She was hungry and crabby, and this guy wasn't helping. But it wasn't he who'd put her in a bad mood. That was on her roommate Kelsey, who'd promised to meet her for supper. Kels had bailed at the last minute, texting Layla that she'd made plans with some guy she met last night.
Kelsey apparently hadn't gotten the memo that it was not the 1950s and women no longer ditched their friends to hang out with some random dude.
You know that's how she is, Layla told herself . Don't let it spoil your night .
To distract herself from the PITA still pondering his selection, she turned to gaze out the shop's plate-glass window. A man opened the door, head down, reading his phone. When he looked up, Layla's breath caught in her throat. Their eyes met.
His mouth hitched up in that naughty grin she remembered so well. "Little Layla. Well, how've you been?"
Cameron. Cam. She hadn't seen or spoken to him since spring break back in March. And here it was already October. But she sure hadn't forgotten the night they spent together. Hell, how could she? It had been the most amazing sex of her life.
No surprise that she'd remember him. But the fact that he remembered her name truly knocked the wind from her sails.
He was hot, buff, and a bartender. Not to mention a smart and seriously nice guy. No question he had his choice of women. And no telling how many there'd been since she hooked up with him. Dozens, maybe.
Sad to say, she could not make the same claim. In fact, she'd been with no one since Cam. Not because she'd imagined their hookup could be more than a one-nighter. She just had too many other things on her plate—first classes and student teaching, and now, after graduation, her struggle to find full-time work. There was no time for romance or even a casual hookup. Real life was kicking her ass.
There she stood with her mouth hanging open like a goldfish. Cam waved his hand in front of her face. "Hello?"
"Oh." God, she must look like an idiot. Her face flamed. "Hi. Good. I'm good." She cleared her throat. "How are you?"
"I'm great. A little disappointed, though."
"Huh?" She blinked. "How come?"
"I thought for sure I'd see you again at the Shamrock after…you know…" He tilted his head as though awaiting an explanation.
No way could she admit she'd avoided the Shamrock—where he worked and where they first met—on purpose. "Oh, well, I—"
"Next, please," announced a voice behind her. Layla startled, then turned. The man taking orders waited for her, having at last rid himself of the guy playing twenty questions.
"Uh, yes." She stared at the menu board, which glazed to a blur. Cam's sudden appearance had rattled her. What had she been going to order?
Oh, right. "The special, please."
"For here or to go?" The man's deadpan tone belied his annoyed expression.
"Uh…" She felt Cam behind her, watching her, waiting patiently. Heat bloomed on the back of her neck. Why did he have to stand so close? She couldn't think. God, she was a wreck.
"For here," Cam said.
What? She swiveled her head to glance back at him.
He grinned. "You're here…I'm here…let's have dinner."
"For here," the counterman echoed, apparently not caring who gave the order as long as the line moved along.
Layla didn't rescind the order. Her heart gave a little jump of excitement. Cam wanted to have dinner with her!
Layla Messner waited in line at Federico's Pizza in the heart of Buffalo, New York, planning to order the Thursday night special: two cheese slices and a large soft drink. She sighed and shifted as the guy in front of her took his sweet time staring at the takeout menu and quizzing the guy behind the counter about every item.
"Are the peppers on the sausage sub hot peppers? No? What kind of cheese is on the ham and cheese sub? Do you have Swiss cheese? Okay, give me a large ham and cheese. No, wait. Make that a roast beef. Does that come with Russian dressing?"
Oh, God. Layla folded her arms and rolled her eyes. She was hungry and crabby, and this guy wasn't helping. But it wasn't he who'd put her in a bad mood. That was on her roommate Kelsey, who'd promised to meet her for supper. Kels had bailed at the last minute, texting Layla that she'd made plans with some guy she met last night.
Kelsey apparently hadn't gotten the memo that it was not the 1950s and women no longer ditched their friends to hang out with some random dude.
You know that's how she is, Layla told herself . Don't let it spoil your night .
To distract herself from the PITA still pondering his selection, she turned to gaze out the shop's plate-glass window. A man opened the door, head down, reading his phone. When he looked up, Layla's breath caught in her throat. Their eyes met.
His mouth hitched up in that naughty grin she remembered so well. "Little Layla. Well, how've you been?"
Cameron. Cam. She hadn't seen or spoken to him since spring break back in March. And here it was already October. But she sure hadn't forgotten the night they spent together. Hell, how could she? It had been the most amazing sex of her life.
No surprise that she'd remember him. But the fact that he remembered her name truly knocked the wind from her sails.
He was hot, buff, and a bartender. Not to mention a smart and seriously nice guy. No question he had his choice of women. And no telling how many there'd been since she hooked up with him. Dozens, maybe.
Sad to say, she could not make the same claim. In fact, she'd been with no one since Cam. Not because she'd imagined their hookup could be more than a one-nighter. She just had too many other things on her plate—first classes and student teaching, and now, after graduation, her struggle to find full-time work. There was no time for romance or even a casual hookup. Real life was kicking her ass.
There she stood with her mouth hanging open like a goldfish. Cam waved his hand in front of her face. "Hello?"
"Oh." God, she must look like an idiot. Her face flamed. "Hi. Good. I'm good." She cleared her throat. "How are you?"
"I'm great. A little disappointed, though."
"Huh?" She blinked. "How come?"
"I thought for sure I'd see you again at the Shamrock after…you know…" He tilted his head as though awaiting an explanation.
No way could she admit she'd avoided the Shamrock—where he worked and where they first met—on purpose. "Oh, well, I—"
"Next, please," announced a voice behind her. Layla startled, then turned. The man taking orders waited for her, having at last rid himself of the guy playing twenty questions.
"Uh, yes." She stared at the menu board, which glazed to a blur. Cam's sudden appearance had rattled her. What had she been going to order?
Oh, right. "The special, please."
"For here or to go?" The man's deadpan tone belied his annoyed expression.
"Uh…" She felt Cam behind her, watching her, waiting patiently. Heat bloomed on the back of her neck. Why did he have to stand so close? She couldn't think. God, she was a wreck.
"For here," Cam said.
What? She swiveled her head to glance back at him.
He grinned. "You're here…I'm here…let's have dinner."
"For here," the counterman echoed, apparently not caring who gave the order as long as the line moved along.
Layla didn't rescind the order. Her heart gave a little jump of excitement. Cam wanted to have dinner with her!
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