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How Josie Stronghold puts up with us every week I'll never know? The thought went through Warren's mind as he gathered up the crushed soda cans, empty chip bowls, and small forest of dirty paper plates.

It was the weekly Friday night gathering of the Stronghold crew. Watching TV, doing homework (Ethan, Warren, occasionally Layla), not doing homework (Zack, Magenta, Will), discussing whatever giant alien ass Will's parents had just kicked or Couch Boomer's latest maze of death. Good times.

Such carefree days were coming to an end. In a week he'd be reporting to his very prestigious internship with the European Union Metahuman Bureau of Law and Justice. It will be a great learning experience and since Dad never burned down anything in Paris, there would be a lot less awkward silence when he walked into a room.

The fact that half of the senior Hero class was completely pissed that Baron Battle's son was this year's recipient was just one log on the bonfire.

Warren picked up the last of the trash and tied off the garbage bag. He poked at Will. "You awake there, Stronghold."

From his supine position on the sofa, Will waved one hand as it to say, yes, I am awake. Don't make me get up and rip your head off.

Zack, Magenta, Ethan, and his girlfriend had all taken off already. Layla was putting food away in the kitchen.

Layla had seemed a little quiet tonight. It was bugging at Warren like a mild toothache.

"Well, I guess I'll call it a night."

Done with the kitchen, Layla walked over to them. "Will, walk me home," she asked.

There was a soft mumbled sound. Translation: Just let me lie here and die.

"I'll take you," Warren offered. The Commander really needs to lighten up.

"Will," Layla tugged at his arm. "Walk with me."

"Layla," Will moaned. "Just this once . . ."

She grabbed hold of his arm, shaking it "Will, I have something I want to talk to you about."

That got his attention. Will staggered to his feet. "Okay." He shot a worried look at Warren.

The pyro just looked back at him. They all left the house together. Warren climbed on his motorcycle. Will looked on jealously. Layla felt her throat clench at the sight of those long limbs and tight ass displayed so well. Warren smiled suddenly at her and she had to avert her gaze. He gave them one last wave before peeling off. Will and Layla waited until Warren was a speck of dust in the distance before they headed toward Layla's house.

"You really think he looks hot on that bike?" Will sounded just a tad aggrieved.

She ignored the question. "If you get a bike, you know your parents will make you wear a helmet for appearance's sake."

"Yup. You wanted to talk to me?" Will had been racking his brain, trying to figure out if Layla was mad at him. He didn't know how she could be? He'd hardly seen her all week. Maybe that was it. "I know I've been busy this week . . . " he began.

She wrapped her arms around his waist. "Silly, I know your parents are slave drivers. I'm not mad. I," she paused. To Will, she seemed to be tongue-tied. "I have some news, good news, but its just weird to talk about it."

"I'm listening."

She took a deep breath. "I told you my aunt was in town. Well, at lunch I said more than maybe I should have, about . . . our parents' hobby and us. And Aunt Miranda, well, she's staying at the Maxville Regency tonight -- she had a business meeting -- and she told me she'd book the room for two days. It's all paid for and she added my name when she registered. If we wanted to, we could check in at 2:00 tomorrow," Layla finished in a rush.

Will wasn't certain he'd heard correctly. It sounded like his girlfriend said they had a fancy hotel room at their disposal, but that couldn't be right. The Universe was never that kind to him.

"Well," she licked her lips. "Do you want to?"

He just stared at her.

NEXT DAY, DOWNTOWN MAXVILLE

Will kept well out of sight. He sort of felt like a young James Bond. . .except that he wasn't British, a double 0 agent and didn't own a classic auto with built in missiles

His parents had dragged him to enough parties over the years that he knew a fair amount of business people in the city. If word of this ever got back to them . . .

When Layla had asked him if he wanted to spend several hours alone with her in a room with a bed, his jaw had gone slack. Since he'd lost the ability to speak, he'd emphatically nodded his head. What did she expect? He was a guy after all.

"You got it." Will asked Layla.

She showed him the key.

They went over to the elevator. "We're on floor thirteen."

"My new favorite number."

The couple got into the elevator, along with a half dozen others. Every light on the switchboard was lit.

It was worse than running late and catching every red light. Layla looked everywhere but at her boyfriend. Ever time she did a shiver would run down her spine.

A thought came to her, of him running his hands down her back, bending his head toward her.

The door opened at floor thirteen. Will let her step out first. She noticed that he seemed to be smirking.

Prat, he acts like he's going to get lucky. She shot him a look, plainly she thought he was acting the immature cad. The couple followed the hallway signs until they were standing in front of the correct door. Not wanted to linger, Layla jabbed the plastic key into the locking mechanism. The door obligingly swung open. Will hustled her through it.

He collapsed against the closed door in mock alarm. "We made it."

She couldn't help but giggle.

Will swung Layla around in his arms. "So, here we are." Several minutes later they broke apart, both breathing heavily.

"Will," Layla slapped away the hand that was moving toward her breasts. "I'm going to get changed."

She'd only been gone a few minutes when there was a knock on the door. Will just about jumped out of his skin. A male's voice called, 'Room Service."

Tentatively, Will opened the door. A man in a liveried jacket stood before him, holding an ice bucket with what looked to be wine or maybe champagne

"I have a delivery for Ms.Williams."

"She's indisposed. Can I take it?" Will asked.

The man proffered over the gift. There was nothing to sign for. He handed Will an envelope. Will closed the door, belatedly realizing he should have tipped him. Layla's name was written on the envelope.

"Was someone at the door?"

It's a good thing Will wasn't holding the bottle at the neck. Layla had unpinned her hair. It hung like a red waterfall down her face. She was wearing sexy pajamas. They clung to her fit body. The front was a rather deep V-neck.

Green was definitely her color.

Will swallowed hard and held out the envelope to her. She took it.

"It's from my aunt." She looked up from the card. "She's wishing us luck." She let her hair fall like a curtain in front of her face.The naked look of longing on Will's face was bringing to life a million butterflies in her stomach.

"Are you sure it's from her?" Will asked hesitantly.

"It's her handwriting."

"It's just, . . "Will looked around him "Why is she doing this?"

"She's being nice to me," Layla looked at him.

Layla tended to think everyone was nice, but still what other explanation was there? "Isn't she worried your mother will be upset?"

Layla's brow furrowed, "Mom isn't going to find out." She plucked the bottle from his hands. "Let's toast."

Will ended up prying the cork out. He poured out the liqueur

Layla picked up a glass. "To best friends." She just tapped her glass against Will's. Neither one wanted glass shards in the carpet. Her hand shook just a little bit.

Layla didn't drink very much, she didn't have a great taste for alcohol. Will finished his glass so she had a little more.

Will picked her up like she weighed a feather and carried her to the bed. It was more of a turn on than Warren on his bike any day.

"Show off." Layla plumped a couple of pillows at her back. Will kicked off his shoes and dropped down boisterously next to her. He moved back a swath of hair and kissed along her neck.

Layla leaned into him. He moved his hand to her waist. Their faces were mere inches apart. Everything was still for a moment, suddenly Will moved. They kissed passionately. Will pressed his tongue against her bottom lip. Layla gasped at the sensation.

Layla felt her eyes grow heavy. She closed them. It was so easy to just drift away.

She didn't notice when Will's arm went slack.

"