Lucky Number Eleven

Chapter 11

Layla

Poppy's giggle from the room next door filters through the thin walls of my bedroom. Watching Branch do pull-ups from a low-hanging limb off a tree in the yard, I have half a notion to get dressed and go down there with him.

Last night at the festival turned out to be more than I even expected. It took Branch a while to really loosen up and let his guard down, something that I don't think he really does all that much. But when he dropped it, he really dropped it. So much so, in fact, that I waited for almost an hour while he showed a group of high school boys how to throw a football and catch a pass on the tennis courts.

I've never seen him quite like that. Invigorated. Energized. Talking a mile-a-minute and jumping from one thing to another. I think that little side track was his favorite part of the night, although he insists it was his victory over me in Skee Ball.

My bed still smells like him, sticky, red candy smeared on my sheets from our romp when we got back. I showered after and again now when I woke up and still feel the tackiness on my thighs and breasts. So worth it.

He catches me watching him and drops to the ground and busts out a number of push-ups, all the while maintaining eye contact. I laugh, give him a thumbs up, and then walk away from the window.

I have to. He's a glorious sight all shirtless and golden from the afternoon sun, but this little fest will come to an end when we go home tomorrow and I need to start applying the brakes now.

By the time I get dressed and stretch out a little, my muscles aching, Poppy and Finn are already in the kitchen. They're whispering back and forth as I enter.

"Secrets are lies," I say, plucking a strawberry out of a bowl.

Poppy turns around and smirks. "No, I know what a lie is and it's not a secret. Or, maybe it is. Is it?"

I toss her a look and mouth, "Stop it" while Finn's back is to me. "How was the party at Machlan's?"

"Those boys are nuts," Poppy giggles. "I kind of love them."

"What happened?" I ask, looking at Finn.

"Just the normal shit. Peck had bottle rockets so I'll let you determine how that fared."

"Oh no," I laugh.

"Pretty much. What did you do last night?" he asks.

"Branch and I went to the Water Festival, actually. I ate way too much."

"She did." His voice slides into the room from the doorway.

Looking over my shoulder, I see him standing there, leaning against the frame. His eyes are on me, but they're filled with something I haven't seen in them before and can't even begin to figure out.

"You can't take Layla to a festival and not drop one hundred dollars on food," Finn laughs. "Let me guess: lemon shake-ups."

"And elephant ears," Branch adds. "And candy apples."

"That explains that," Poppy says, her eyes twinkling.

"That explains what?" Finn asks.

"Um, the stick on the counter this morning," she fumbles. "I was like, 'Damn, that looks like a candy apple stick.' Guess it was."

My head goes to my hands as she continues with her makeshift story. She can't tell him she asked me about the red smears on my sheets earlier. Finn would go crazy.

"I'm going to take my strawberries," I say, grabbing the bowl as I stand, "and go sit on the porch."

"We'll be right out," Poppy says, turning back to Finn.