“Any time. Bye, Gabe.”
I hang up and breathe out a shaky breath. I just want to throttle the fan that caused this whole mess. Fuck. My. Life. Stuffing down my emotions, I head out to meet the team and get on the bus. It’s time to head to the stadium for this afternoon’s game.
Layla
As soon as I saw the message from Cora, I almost threw up. How could he? Zooming in on the photo, I see Gabe cozied up to a petite, young blonde. Her arm is thrown around his waist and they’re close together, smiling. They look cozy and happy. And the woman he’s next to insinuated they’d slept together. Was I crazy to think that this thing between Gabe and I would lead to a happily ever after? I snort through my tears. Probably.
Sniffling, I wipe away my tears and blow my nose. I have work to do. Which is good, because I need to keep myself busy to keep my mind off Gabe. And what he did or did not do. I really should talk to Gabe. Hear him out. But right now, I don’t think I can. This is why I was always a one-night stand kind of woman. No strings, no attachments. And no heartache.
Frowning, I let work suck me in and help me forget.
Hours later, I’m still sitting at my desk, when my intercom buzzes. “Ms. Bradshaw, you have a phone call. Line two.”
“Thank you,” I say, hanging up.
“Layla Bradshaw,” I say into the phone.
“Layla, thank god. It’s Gabe.”
How dare he?!
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Please, Layla. You know me. I would never do this. Please hear me out.”
I tap my fingernails against the desktop. “I’m listening.”
“It was just a pic with a fan. That’s all. She’s just an attention seeker. I swear. I don’t even know who she is.”
I’ll bet his PR team does, though. “How do I know I can believe you?”
“Give me a chance. Face to face. Then you’ll know I’m not lying. You know me, Layla,” he says, breathing out the last part.
I do know him. That’s why it hurts so much. Do I let him explain? Fuck, my heart twinges at the thought of never seeing him again.
“Layla? You still there?”
“Yes.”
“Meet me?”
“Yes. Where.”
“I know it doesn’t look good, but I’ll be back in Pittsburgh in two days. Meet me there. Can you do that?”
“Yes, I can do that,” I reply, my voice clogged with emotion.
“Oh, thank god. I love you, Layla. Tell me you love me, too.”
“I do. But this looks bad, Gabe. Really, really bad,” I say to him, my voice and my bottom lip trembling. I’m about to start crying again.
“I know, dammit,” he growls, frustration lacing his voice. “That’s why we need to meet in person.”
“I need to go. Bye, Gabe.”
“Wait, Layla!” Gabe says through the phone, just as I hang up. My eyes swim with tears as I drop my phone back into its cradle.
“Want to talk about it?” Cora says, standing in the doorway to my office.
