Page 28 of The Virgin Game Plan (Rules of Love 2)
“You didn’t tell me that Holden was in town.”
She scrunches up her face. “Holden?”
“Hello?” I give her a look. A how on earth can you not remember Holden look.
Still, she draws a blank.
“You really don’t know who I’m talking about?”
“No idea.”
“The guy I interviewed,” I prompt. “The last interview I did at the end of our senior year, just before graduation.”
Still nothing.
I make a rolling gesture with my hand. “The red blouse with the black pearl buttons.”
Her face lights up with recognition. “Oh! The professional one that also happened to make you look like you were on a date.”
“You’re evil,” I say, laughing.
The doorbell rings, and I follow her because it can only be Layla. Yanking the door open, Tia adds, “The interview was with the guy who gave you the tongue lashing of a lifetime the week before you left for South America.”
Layla stands in the doorway, tall and goddess-like. Her brown eyes twinkle with questions. “I walked in at the right time, clearly.”
She’s in town because it’s volleyball off-season, but she’ll be returning to Turkey soon. It’s her other home, since she fell in love with a Turkish woman on another team there.
“Yes,” Tia tells her. “We were talking about a guy who made her knees shake. Her belly flip.”
“The only guy who did that to her?” Layla asks.
My cheeks flame red. “Yes. Holden. The baseball player. And neither one of you told me he was traded to the San Francisco Dragons at the end of last year.”
Layla stares sharply at me. “One, good to see you too. Two, how the hell would I have known?”
I wave it off. I’m only messing with them anyway. I wrap Layla in a hug that lasts a whole minute. “It’s so good to see you both,” I say with a happy sigh.
“Same,” Layla says.
“Double same,” Tia echoes.
When I pull away, Tia arches a brow. “Now, back to your unfair accusation. Why would you think I would know that he’d been traded? I’ve been in my master’s program, not tracking Major League Baseball trades. And Layla was in Turkey, falling in love and playing her heart out. Plus, you went on one date with him.”
Layla clears her throat. “Exactly. I haven’t been reading up on the off-season baseball trades.”
I heave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. So you guys aren’t doing the stalking work that best friends should do. I guess I can forgive you.” I fling myself onto the couch in the living room as Tia grabs a bottle of wine and a corkscrew. Layla snags three glasses from the kitchen and sits next to me.
Once Tia joins us and we all have full glasses, she asks, “So, did you look him up? Is that how you know he’s in town?”
Layla nudges me. “You checked out his social media, I bet.”
I dip my head in shame. “Yes. I did.”
“And is there a girlfriend in the picture?” Tia asks.
“I have no idea. His Instagram feed is the occasional baseball pic amid coffee shots and images of the Golden Gate Bridge covered in fog.”
Layla tries to stifle a laugh. “Is he an amateur photographer?”
I laugh. “Apparently, he likes moody pictures of the city.”
“Ooh la la. Isn’t he just an onion of a man?” Tia says, shimmying her shoulders.
“Speaking of men, did you meet anyone in South America?” Layla asks, batting her dark eyes like a cartoon character floating on hearts and flowers.
I fire her a look like she’s crazy. “You think I met someone and didn’t tell you? Hello! We texted. We FaceTimed. I would have told you if I’d gotten so much as tongue.”
Layla shrugs saucily. “I didn’t want to presume, in case you were keeping secrets.”
“I didn’t meet anyone.” I wasn’t looking. And I wasn’t tempted when I went out with the others in my media program. “Dating was just complicated with the job and moving to three different countries and working all the time. But I didn’t miss it.” It’s the truth—I didn’t date once, and I was mostly good with that. “Is that crazy?”
Layla laughs. “I didn’t date either.”
I shove her shoulder. “No, you just went and fell in love with the first woman you met.”
“It happens. Love at first sight.”
Tia rolls her eyes. “You and your perfect international romance.”
“What can I say? Some women have got it going on,” Layla says, blowing on her nails, too hot to handle. Then she swings her gaze to me, her lips going ruler-straight, her eyes thoughtful. “But you know, it makes sense that you didn’t meet anyone. You didn’t go there for a man. You went there for you,” she says, tapping my sternum. “And you didn’t let Holden ‘Arms of Steel’ Kingsley hold you back from going either.”
Tia lifts her chin to the ceiling and imitates a lioness. “You are woman. Hear you roar.”
