“Holy shit,” he whispers when he finally gets in front of her.
Lyla says nothing. She just launches herself at him and gives him the tightest hug I think she’s ever given. Her impassive expression cracks as they pull away, and he brings a hand up to her face, as if to make sure she’s real. I know the feeling. He glances over at me, jaw still open, then back at her.
“Were you together this whole time?” he asks.
“No. He just found me.” She smiles that ghost of a smile. “I’m so freaking sorry I had to leave like that. I’m sure you hate me, but I swear I had a reason.”
“I don’t hate you.” He frowns and hugs her again. “I’m so fucking glad you’re okay.”
Her eyes get watery as she nods, but she manages to hold her tears back. Either way, it shocks the fuck out of Banks. I bite back a laugh at the confused expression on his face. Lyla catches it and laughs.
“I went to therapy,” she says, as if she can’t possibly just be emotional otherwise.
This time, I laugh. She shoots me a dirty look and I laugh harder. Banks looks at me again, shaking his head in disbelief before he focuses on her.
“Marissa told me you were okay, but that was ages ago. I haven’t heard from either of you since.”
“I know. I swear I’ll tell you the whole story after the event,” she says. “Marissa’s fine, though.”
He just stares.
“What about you?” Lyla asks, punching him lightly on the chest to break the moment. “I saw you were signed by San Diego.”
“Ah.” He grins. “You watch football now?”
“Sometimes.” Another ghost of a smile.
I know Banks is her friend, but that bit of information stings. Knowing that she didn’t watch any of my games sucks. I understand why she couldn’t watch, and I can’t fault her for it, but it sucks. I remind myself that what they share is entirely different from what we have. I’ve known that from the start, which is why I never cared too much about them hanging out. Besides, it’s not like they ever hung out alone. And if Banks wanted to make a move, he would have done it by then. Who knows, maybe he did and got rejected. Either way, I’m not worried about him. We should probably invite him to the wedding. I’m sure it would mean a lot to her to have him there. As if she hears my thoughts, she looks at me briefly, and I know that’s what she’s asking. I smile and give a shrug. She smiles wide, my smile, only at me, before she turns to him.
“We’re getting married next Saturday,” she says, her words rushed. “In Chicago. It’s totally spur of the moment. We just decided like two nights ago, so it’s nothing big, but we’d love for you to be there.”
“Damn.” Banks grins at me. “I guess you got on her list after all.”
I laugh wholeheartedly. “It took a while, but yeah.”
I knew I’d dominate that damn list.
“Congratulations,” he says, smiling at the two of us.
“You should come celebrate with us,” I say. “Bring a date if you have someone.”
“Nah,” he says. “Just went through a pretty rough break-up.”
“Oh God.” Lyla rolls her eyes. “Every time you say that, it means one thing. Tell me you didn’t cheat on this one.”
“No.” His brows shoot up. “But she thought I did.”
“She thought?” She laughs lightly. “I don’t even know what to make of that.”
“I’ll tell you about it later,” he says with a laugh, as he looks at me again. “And I would love to go to your wedding.”
“I’ll text you the details.” I extend my fist for him to bump, and he does.
His brows hike up. “You have my number?”
“Did you change it from the time we were here?”
“No, same one,” he says.
