M. Thompson
LAYLA
Everyone’s eyes are on Brandon as he moves closer to me. I tilt my head back to meet his gaze. He’s towering over me, his hair dancing in the wind like dark flames. He’s looking at me like I’m the only girl in the world.
I’m just glad my brother isn’t here to see this. He’d probably lose it.
“Go on, Brandon, don’t keep us waiting! Kiss her,” one of his buddies hollers.
Now he’s right in front of me, and we’re locked in each other’s gaze.
“You ready?” he asks.
“Just kiss me,” I reply, letting out a breath as he leans in.
I never imagined I’d be kissing Brandon Parker. The college’s notorious bad boy, and my brother’s best friend.
As he gets close, he pulls me to him by my hips.
“Brandon,” I whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.
He bites his lip, clearly affected by my response to his touch. His hand trails up my arm, and I close my eyes. He gently lifts my chin, and I open my eyes again.
His pupils are wide, his eyes darker. I place a hand on his cheek, and he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer.
When our lips meet, I melt into his arms. He feels it and holds me up.
His tongue brushes against my bottom lip, and I instinctively open up for him. Our tongues dance together, and it’s the most amazing sensation I’ve ever experienced. I wish this moment could last forever.
He’s respectful, keeping his hands where they should be.
I moan into the kiss, running my fingers through his hair. I hadn’t even noticed the crowd going wild.
“Alright, alright, break it up,” someone says, pulling us apart.
I gasp for air and slump back onto my log. He smirks at me, touching his lip as if trying to savor the kiss.
My name is Layla Bell. I’m 21 and about to start my first year of college. I have long brown hair that falls to my back and dark brown eyes.
I’m moving into a shared living space. The only upside is that the rent is split, which means less for me to pay.
My mom didn’t want to foot the bill for a college dorm, so she’s paying for my half of the rent instead.
She doesn’t seem to care who I live with, as long as it’s another girl. My brother is already in college, in his final year with his best friend, Brandon, who I can’t stand.
He cheated on my ex-best friend. I don’t care about it now, but it was a lousy thing to do.
My brother keeps Brandon away from me unless he’s visiting our mom’s house. It’s strange that I have no idea where he lives, but I don’t really care to know.
I pull up to my new place in my car. I get out, grabbing only my luggage, not bothering with the furniture yet.
I don’t have much furniture, but what I do have fits in my car. I take my new keys out of my pocket and head to the door.
I walk in, and the place is spotless and lovely. The furniture is beautiful, and there are two bedrooms across from each other in a small hallway off the living room.
The kitchen is well-organized and perfect. I drop my stuff on the living room floor when a girl comes out of one of the rooms, fixing her hair and buttoning her shirt.
I hope she’s not my roommate. She grabs some keys off the counter and leaves. Phew, she’s not.
What I didn’t expect was for Brandon Parker, the guy I despise most in the world, to emerge from the room, smirking, wearing only a towel, water dripping down his body.
He runs his fingers through his hair, then notices me staring at his chiseled abs.
“Layla,” he says, his tone icy. His smirk fades, replaced by a look of disgust. I roll my eyes.
“What are you doing here? I live here now,” I say.
“I live here too,” he replies, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.
“Wait, what?” I stammer, horrified. “No, I can’t be sharing a house with you,” I add, pulling out my phone. “There must be a mistake.”
“You could always move back out,” he suggests, smirking again.
“Ugh,” I groan, picking up my bag and heading to my room. I drop it and text my mom.
I leave the room with just my keys to get my furniture from my car.
“Can I get some help?” I ask.
“I’m just your roommate, I don’t have to help you,” Brandon retorts, smirking, arms still crossed. I roll my eyes and head outside to my car. I grab three heavy boxes and carry them inside.
Once I’m inside, I drop a box by accident. Brandon catches it before it hits my toes, sighing.
“Why are you trying to carry all these boxes by yourself?” he asks.
“You said you wouldn’t help me,” I reply, noticing that he’s taking another box from me.
Our hands brush, and I look up at him, surprised. He’s already looking at me, so I just blush and look away.
I can’t believe I have to live like this for the rest of the year.
He carries my stuff to my room and sets it on the floor.
“Thanks,” I say, and he just rolls his eyes and leaves. What’s his problem?
***
It takes me five hours to get the important parts of my room set up. My first year of college and I haven’t even been to a party yet.
I collapse onto my bed, exhausted from all the work. How am I going to keep my living situation with Brandon a secret from my brother?
I rise from my seat, feeling a sudden thirst. I head to the kitchen for a glass of water. As expected, Brandon is sprawled out on the couch, snoring away. He’s such a goofball. I pull open a cabinet, only to be greeted by a stack of pots. I try another one, but still no luck. No cups.
Suddenly, I feel a warm presence behind me. I freeze.
“What are you looking for?” Brandon’s voice floats over my shoulder.
“C-cup,” I manage to stutter out.
His body brushes against mine as he reaches for the correct cabinet, the one filled with cups. I’m taken aback. Why am I reacting this way? He’s just getting me a cup. Why are my thoughts spiraling?
I spin around, and he’s right there, so close. He’s lowering a cup from the cabinet.
“Here,” he says, his face unreadable.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Nope,” he replies, heading back to the couch.
I trail after him, settling down next to him. His green eyes bore into me the moment I sit. I know he doesn’t want me here, but he doesn’t have to glare at me like that.
“Are there any parties around here that you recommend me going to?” I ask.
“There is only one party happening around here tonight,” he says.
“So where is it?” I ask, leaning towards him in anticipation.
“It’s an invitation-only party,” he says, turning his attention back to the TV.
“Well, are you invited?”
“Of course I’m invited,” he says, rolling his eyes and looking at me again.
“Then can you get me invited?” I ask, trying to sound as sweet as possible.
“Why should I?”
“Because I’m your best friend’s sister,” I say, flashing him a charming smile.
“Exactly. My best friend’s little sister, so why would I take you to a party?” he says, switching off the TV and standing up. I rise with him and follow him.
“It’s my first year in college and you’re the only person I know,” I say, stopping the door before he can close it.
He sighs then turns back around. “Fine, you can come with me,” he says, finally giving in.
“OMG thank you!” I squeal. I dash into my room, closing the door behind me.