Chapter 8

She wasn't used to this feeling. With Will it had always been comfortable, safe. Warren Peace was uncharted territory. His eyes were constantly filled with suspicion, making her feel uneasy at times. His brooding expression hardly ever changed, and when it did, one wasn't quite sure if it was due to sarcasm or actual amusement. Layla felt that maybe her presence brought about a bit of both from the older teenager.

"Do you like me?"

Right, good. Straight to the point. She hadn't actually meant to blurt out those words exactly, at least not yet anyway. She fought to keep the cringing she felt inside from showing externally.

"I think we covered that the other night."

She had cornered him after his shift at The Paper Lantern, having waited nearly two hours for his presence to leave the small building. Her original intention was to march inside and catch him off guard, but as she came closer to her destination the butterflies started kicking in big time. She had only managed to reach the sidewalk out front when she felt she was going to hurl and almost abandoned mission.

So for two hours she waited. Pacing up and down the street, her hands moved rapidly as she practiced her upcoming speech. She had a feeling all of her controlled words would fly right out the window as soon as she saw him, but it was still a comfort to rehearse nonetheless. Almost heading home a few times in the process, her nerves were to their limit the more time that passed.

She almost didn't notice as he slunk out onto the street, his jacket tucked under one arm while in his other he held a takeout box of food. His head was down, not paying attention to his surroundings.

"Warren!" she called out to him, and he turned in her direction with something akin to an amused smirk, although his eyes showed confusion.

"Ok, now you're scaring me. The stalking thing seriously has to stop," he called out in a teasing tone as he jogged closer to where she was standing, waiting on him.

She couldn't deny her attraction to the young man. If Will ever found out...

Layla couldn't imagine what her best friend would think of her if he knew what she was about to do. Hell, she didn't even know what to think of herself. She didn't have a lot of experience with boys... Okay, so she had none at all. But Warren didn't exactly have a crop girls hanging off his arm, so maybe they were in the same boat.

Oh, who was she kidding? Warren seemed so much more confident than she ever could be. He had to have some experience, right?

But back to the present.

"Look," Warren started, sensing her hesitation at his response, "If it's easier, just forget I said anything. It's probably better that way."

"That's not it..." Layla trailed off, at a loss for words. She twirled her hand helplessly in the air, as if she were physically trying to grasp a point but failing miserably.

The young man sighed, raising his hand to run it through his hair until he realized it was up in a ponytail. He dropped his hand uselessly, letting it flop back to his side. Layla shifted her weight to her other foot, unsure of how to proceed, to make up for her lack of response. A few awkward moments passed by. She opened her mouth, about to apologize, when he interrupted her.

"There's something I want to say real quick," he said, and Layla couldn't but notice the tables turn as he was the one who suddenly looked nervous.

Warren's demonstration of being nervous wasn't like others. He didn't stumble over his words or look in every direction but where he should be looking at. He was looking directly into her eyes, and she fought the urge to cringe away from his apparent scrutiny. Or that's what it felt like anyway. Maybe it was more like speculation. The only sign that tipped her off of his nerves was his breathing, as he suddenly had to take deep breaths as if to calm himself down. He licked his lips, her eyes drawn to the motion, and continued.

"I know I'm nowhere close to being like Stronghold. Not that I'm complaining," he backtracked, "because I would probably have killed myself by now. I have no idea why he holds your fascination, and I don't want make it hard on you. You like him, I get it. I don't understand it, but I get it. But I just think that, for your sake, instead of holding onto the hope that someone who doesn't give you the time of day will eventually like you, maybe you should look around, and consider the guys that already do."

Layla had never heard Warren talk with such sincerity, with such lack of self-assurance and coolness. He seemed almost lost. So... rejected. She had a feeling that she was one of the very few that had gotten to see him vulnerable, if only for a moment. After making his speech he stood back up to full height, not quite looking her in the eye. Whether it was from embarrassment of regret, Layla wasn't sure.

Either way, the rising impulse to do something drastic blinded her vision, moving her feet forward and before she knew what she was doing she grabbed his face between her hands and brought her lips up to meet his.

It was an awkward kiss, kind of smooshy and a bit off the mark. Layla came to her senses a few seconds later, realizing that her partner was still as stone above her, making the kiss pretty much one-sided.

She jumped back in shock, trying to school her face into serenity when inside she only felt the horror and embarrassment of what she had just done.

His eyes were wide, probably just as shocked as hers were. His eyes bore into hers, and she had to force herself not to crumble. He stepped forward and as much as she wanted to, she couldn't move her feet back, to run away.

Still with shocked eyes, he brought his hand up to rest against her cheek, cupping her jaw. He bent down at an excruciating slow pace, until she could feel his warm breath against her lips.

Then they were kissing, and it was perfect.