Claiming Serenity(30)

“A little. He gave me that ‘make good decisions’ lecture yesterday morning. Ridiculous.”

Mollie nodded, but then her attention was distracted by the chirp of her phone. By the stupid way her features softened as she read the text message, Layla guessed Vaughn had texted Mollie something saccharinely-sweet and disgusting. She didn’t want to see that idiotic smile on her friend’s face, so Layla looked around the cafeteria, nodded to two of her father’s players when they passed her, then scowled as Donovan’s annoying laughter brought her attention back to him.

He hadn’t looked at her once in the half hour since she and Mollie had walked into the cafeteria and Layla was annoyed more with herself than with him that his ignoring her bothered her so much.

Now he sat across from her in the cafeteria, acting like he didn’t even know she was there. Laughing and carrying on with his squad mates as they catcalled every girl that past their table.

“Well, at least you get to see your dad every day,” Mollie finally said, picking up their conversation about her father’s lecture when Mollie placed her phone in front of her on the table.

The small complaint had Layla forgetting about Donovan and focusing on her best friend. She hated that look on Mollie’s face, she hated that the brunette tried to cover her worry for her father who was in some FBI hospital being treated for cancer.

“Honey…”

“Oh God, Layla,” she said, waving off Layla’s concern. “I’m being a whiney shit. I talked to my dad Friday night. Still with the treatment but he said he’s responding.” She moved a finger under her eye and then smiled at Layla. “It’s looking good.” Layla knew Mollie wanted to talk about her dad, about how worried she was, how much she missed him and maybe they would have had that conversation, but Mollie’s eyes rounded and she sat up straight after glancing through the window to the union   outside. “Shit, Layla, duck out.”

“Why?” She moved her head, tried to catch what Mollie had noticed outside, but her best friend stood up, blocked Layla from the window.

“Rent-a-Cop at two o’clock.”

Layla didn’t hesitate. She really wasn’t in the mood to see Walter or to hear his complaints that she’d been ignoring him. He’d been texting her and leaving pathetic messages on her phone for weeks, none of which Layla answered. He was relentless, that was for sure, but Layla had no desire to speak to him and she certainly didn’t want an argument between them quieting the crowded cafeteria. She moved quickly, not at all subtly and darted behind several tables full of freshman and sophomores as she headed toward the long hallway that led to the bathrooms, hoping Walter didn’t see her as he walked in, his hand resting on his walkie talkie.

The men in her life were either lecturing her, pranking her or stalking her and Layla was getting tired of them all.





Layla didn’t see him. Her eyes were on the floor, distracted by her escape from that asshole snooping for her. It was her distracted attention Donovan depended on. He was careful, waiting for Mollie to approach Walter, putting him off Layla’s scent before Donovan left his table.

“Catch you later,” Donovan told his squad mates, but they didn’t care that he abandoned them. There was too much food on their table, too many beautiful girls smiling at them for them to notice Donovan retreating to the back of the cafeteria.

No one, not his boys or Mollie, or that dipshit Walter noticed Donovan dipping away from the crowd, eyes lowered and watching Layla as she walked ahead of him, hurrying toward the bathroom. He didn’t know what compelled him to follow her. Maybe it was the distance that moved between them the night before. Seeing her that morning with Coach Mullens leaving her car, glaring at Donovan as he passed and Declan whispering something to Layla that Donovan couldn’t quite make out had put him off. He couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t focus and both Coach and Declan noticed.

He’d passed it off as fatigue, not feeling well, but neither of them bought it and Donovan’s sour mood only got worse when he and Declan went back to Willow Peak to race the Irishman’s Mustang again after practice.

“What did you say to Layla?” he’d asked Declan, but his best friend gave him nothing but a hard time.

“Why do you wanna know, mate?” Donovan hated that suspicious glint in Declan’s eye anytime he asked about Layla.

“No reason,” he’d told him, but he knew, just like he knew that Mullens hadn’t bought his bullshit excuses for his poor performance at practice, that Declan wasn’t convinced Donovan was leaving Layla alone.