Quarterback: Bad Boy Sport Star Romance. (8 page)

He was well aware that he was more than likely not her type, but he’s radiating a confident and decisive aura, he’s not affected by any external condition, his actions hinder no hesitation nor second thought. His posture and body language clearly display his congruency.

Layla was beautiful – but with that beauty there was a grace and serenity that he’s never seen in anyone before. She had long auburn hair that reached all the way down to the start of her curvy hips – which seemed to accentuate them even more. Her skin was pale – almost as if it had never been touched by the sun and her eyes shone bright green – a colour he could actually see from across the room. She didn’t seem to be wearing much makeup but her lips were pickled pink, as if she’d been biting down on them. She had an elegance and a purity about her that was hardened by a sharp sense of someone who knew what they wanted in life – or perhaps hardened by a sense of unhappiness. She was wearing a pair of bright orange shorts, a lose fitting white shirt and some light brown sandals. It was a hot day and she was dressed far better than he was. He knew at that moment that they were from two different worlds –Yet, when he asked her to come over, she smiled and come straight over.

As it turned out, Layla was incredibly down to earth and easy to talk to. After ordering another three cappuccinos the two of them were buzzed from all the caffeine and their talk became a lot more frenzied and animated. Soon they were laughing at things that were not even funny at all and Daniel realised just how he missed this. He was surprised by how well the two of them seemed to get on, but most of all he was surprised that Layla actually seemed to like him. As they got up to leave he asked her out on a date and she said yes without any hesitation. He took down her details and promised that he’d be in touch.

Within two weeks Daniel was seeing Layla regularly. There was an obvious chemistry between the two of them but even so they stayed in just the kissing part. On their third date Daniel found out about Paul and the engagement. He was shocked by this revelation. How could any man give up the opportunity of being with such an elegant woman, Layla? He told her as such and she smiled sadly at him. “Maybe I’m just not loveable.” At that moment he cupped her face into his hands and kissed her. The kiss was slow at first and more urgent as time went on, and by the time it was over they were both looking at each other with great curiosity. He wondered if she felt the same thing that he had. Of course, he didn’t want to ask her. If she liked him for the man that she first saw then it meant she was looking for someone that was confident and sure of himself. A man who lived up to his looks. And so he made sure that he continued to portray himself in that way. It had only been a few weeks anyway and he was too afraid to tell her how he really felt about her.
Surely I can’t already have such strong feelings for her?
He wondered, although the beating of his heart told him otherwise.

“Layla, I want to take you for a ride,” and then he got out a small bright orange helmet. He’d got it to match those shorts she’d been wearing the first time that they’d met as well as the colour of her hair. When she looked at him curiously he quickly added, “oh I just borrowed that from a friend for a few days. Hope you like the colour.” The truth was that he’d bought this for specifically for her, but he wouldn’t tell her that. She put it on, the cutest little biker he had ever seen, and hopped on behind him. Holding on tight he took her for a ride – and while she gripped firmly onto him he felt happier than he’d been in a long time. Afterwards, he took her to his house. At first she laughed, “Sure! Pull the other leg. You don’t live here!” She was giggling the whole way but when they arrived at the front door and he got out the key she looked at him in shock. “You live here?! Who are you?”

He took her inside, poured her a glass of wine and told her all about his life. His childhood, the war, his parents – all of it. By the end she was crying and squeezing his hand as if her own life depended on it. “Daniel – you’re the most interesting man I have ever met.” She stated, and he laughed.

“To most, I am just a tattooed man who goes around on a motorcycle pretending to be a bad ass.”

“Well, you
are
a bad ass,” she laughed.

And then asked him all about his tattoos.

He got some tattoos before he left for war – they were silly and insignificant, but he held onto them because they reminded him of a much simpler time.

During the war he bunked with a few other marines and they came across many different people with varying degrees of talents. Some were artists, painters, tattoo artists, photographers – all living a new life fighting for their country – the freedom of their life before long forgotten. They urged a tattoo artist to give them all tattoos and somehow managed to get their hands on some basic equipment. It started out small. At first a small symbol – recognising a brotherhood that they all shared together. After that they added on another one, and then another one. Soon they realised they were using their tattoos as a way of remembering things in the past, a way of remembering things that were happening to them in the present – things they never wanted to forget. Daniel was now covered in tattoos – the only part of him that was bare was his face, most of his neck, his hands and his feet. Almost everywhere else held some ink – and each one meant something to him. He told Layla about each and every one, pointing and touching all over his body, she was mesmerised and caught biting her lips, she wasn’t holding back.

              “What about this one? She said pointing and grabbing him, reaching her tiny leg, compared to his, in-between his legs, almost over him right now.

              “Oh that one? That was done in the memory of an unexpected battle we gave in a small apartment when a seemingly mother screamed for our help, luring us into a trap. That night we lost Miller.”

His body was literally a moving muscle canvas. An ancient Greek God statue, painted by stories and hardships. At that point Daniel was shirtless on his tight boxers obviously aroused, since Layla was exploring his body inch by inch, and he was undressing to reveal more tattoos. They both pause, looking at each other’s eyes for a long minute. He gets off the couch, grabs her and lifts her up, standing on the couch, they are now both the same height looking straight into each other’s eyes with lust, she starts kissing him, he lifts her off her feet and she wraps her legs around him, he places her down and undresses her.

Standing over her, he pauses for a second, blown away of how her perfect skin looked against his. She lets go of her up tightness that used to have when with Paul, and becomes alive -herself, though Daniel was in total control throughout the whole time placing her in any position he felt like. They both came with a sense of a relief, and an emotional release, they both needed to let off steam.

Daniel knew that he needed to take it slow with Layla. It wasn’t that long since she separated from Paul and he knew that she needed the time to distance herself from that relationship. But it wasn’t easy staying away from her. There was a big difference in knowing something and actually doing something and he couldn’t deny the way he felt around Layla. That night he decided to take her for dinner. There was a little Italian restaurant down the road that he knew she would love. Also it was close enough for the two of them to walk to, and safe enough to enjoy an evening stroll on the way back. She arrived at his house dressed in tight blue jeans and a green top that curved in at all the right places. “You look amazing,” he said, unable to hide his impressions. The two of them walked to the restaurant holding hands and chatting like old friends when suddenly Layla stopped dead in her tracks. Daniel looked forward to what she was looking at.

Coming towards them was a well-dressed, good looking man, and he was staring right at Layla. Daniel knew without anyone having to say anything, that this man was Paul. Layla didn’t actually tell him very much about the guy and yet it was obvious that this was him. He could sense it simply by the way Layla was looking at him. And just as he had suspected – he was the very opposite of Daniel. Clean cut and well put together, with teeth that shone with far too much brightness. He could feel Layla begin to tremble. “Layla?” the man named Paul said, coming closer towards them. Then Paul stopped and looked at Daniel, eyeing out the two hands that were clasped together. “Paul. Long-time no see. This is Daniel. Daniel, this is Paul.” There was silence. Paul didn’t do anything for a while, he just stared at the two of them, confusion running through his face. Finally he snapped out of it and shook Daniels hand, “Well, good to meet you Daniel. Layla, you’re looking lovely. Though I must be going. Enjoy your evening.” She hadn’t seen Paul after the breakup and she knew that this was bound to happen eventually. At the restaurant, Layla was subdued and barely ate her food. By the end of the night, she only managed a few bites and completely ignored the wine. They walked home in silence and when they reached at his house she thanked him for the lovely evening and told him that she couldn’t stay over. Daniel sensed a gnawing feeling in his stomach and he felt the knot inside him grow bigger. But he refused to believe that anything was wrong and forced himself to give her time.

The next day he sent her a message but all he received back was short reply – revealing nothing, which only added to his growing fear. He decided to step back, to give her time. He told himself that she would come back to him. It was strange going from talking constantly to her to suddenly not hearing a word and he realised that he had come to rely on that interaction with her. Especially since his self-imprisonment and isolation in his mansion. Two days later and he still haven’t heard a thing from her – not even a small text or a simple phone call. Nothing at all. By the third day he decided to call her, although he assumed that she was more than likely going to ignore his call. Thankfully she answered, although her voice was small and timid – not like her at all. “Layla, give it to me straight, what’s going on?” He tried to come across as brave and nonchalant, but he wasn’t sure if he was pulling it off. His voice sounded weak even to him. “Daniel, I’m so sorry. I’ve been meaning to phone you but I wouldn’t know what to say.” “That’s okay, Layla, I know this isn’t easy for you. Listen, let me come pick you up. We can go for a ride together.” There was silence on the other end. “Layla?” he asked. “I’m sorry Daniel. I’ve moved back in with Paul. The wedding was never cancelled and we are back together. I’m so sorry. I really am.”

Daniel didn’t bother to say anything back. He simply put down the phone and stared at it. Once again something that was important to him and been ripped away. This was a feeling he should be used to, but he wasn’t. And as he lay on the couch in the big living room he looked around him at the quiet mansion – he knew that feeling, loneliness. Everyone around him seemed to appear and fade away at once, all he knew was abandonment. He was left with not a single human connection, he had no family, and no friends not even associates. Reflecting deeply into his soul he just sat there. He was an expert in turning off his emotions. Nothing. Pure apathy. He had no one, he was no one, and he couldn’t feel anything as he numbed down his emotions and feelings. That’s what he was thought to do in the verge of battle and death. He was a soldier, forged on the anvil of war.

It’s been a two full weeks since Layla got back with Paul. The whole thing started after the two of them bumped into each other the day of that dinner with Daniel. Seeing Paul shocked her. It reminded her of her life before – of a structured and controlled life in which she knew exactly what was happening at all times. In this life she had built up a happy little picture in her mind of the type of life she wanted. In it she saw Paul, herself, a house, a dog and eventually a baby – a proper white picket-fence type of dream. In other words, it was a completely unrealistic view of reality – she just didn’t want to admit that. She felt strange after seeing Paul. She didn’t tell Daniel but when they were at dinner she actually received a text message from Paul, saying how good it was to see her again and how good she was looking. She ignored it but then several minutes later she received another one which simply read, ‘I miss you.’ And that was it – that was all she needed. It wasn’t that she missed Paul. She knew that. But it was the feeling that
he
left
her
, and that
he
didn’t want her anymore. Layla wasn’t sure why this meant so much to her, but it did.

The worst part was obviously that she started to fall for Daniel – even though she promised herself that she wouldn’t. After all, the whole reason she hooked up with him in the first place was because she didn’t think it would lead to anything serious. He was exactly the type of guy she’s been looking for at the time – a good looking, cocky, sure of himself bad-boy that simply wanted a good time. He indeed showed all these qualities. And in many ways, he
was
all these things, but she did not expect to also being so much more. Beneath the tattoos was a man with so much raw emotion, so much kindness that it tore Layla apart to leave him. But she also promised herself not to get so attached and she knew that the only way she was going to do that was to cut herself completely off from him. She knew that she hurt him but she was worried that if she happen to see him she’d change her mind. So Instead she decided to focus on all her energy of Paul. She’d messaged him back the moment she got home. A simple ‘it was nice seeing you too.’ And just like that he replied her to come over. He didn’t ask about Daniel – he just took her in and made love to her. There was a desperation in it all, and afterwards Layla had to force herself not to cry. Instead she asked him about the women that he’s been seeing, wondering if he actually gone through with that at all.

“I’ve been so confused Layla. I did see that woman. And it was amazing. I won’t lie to you. But it didn’t work out.” Layla pretended not to be hurt by that sentiment but the truth was that the words ripped her apart.
It was amazing.
She said those words to herself over and over again until she couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Well if it was so amazing then why didn’t you stay with her?” she wanted to scream at him. Instead she just nestled herself into his arms, so that he wouldn’t see the hurt in her eyes.

Since then the two of them settled back into their old routine, almost as if nothing actually happened. She wondered if he thought about the other woman the way that she sometimes thought about Daniel – not that any of them would actually admit it. Just once he’d mentioned Daniel. The two of them were sitting on the couch watching TV when suddenly, out of the blue, Paul said, “So, who was that guy I saw you with that?” Shocked, Layla just replied, “Oh a friend. I saw him for a little while.” She struggled to indicate that it really wasn’t a big deal. Paul laughed, “What a character! That’s pretty gross Layla. Why the hell would you be with someone like that? He’s probably slept with all the girls in the neighbourhood you know.” Layla kept quiet. This exchange upset her even more than she wanted to admit. She almost called Daniel after that, just to say sorry. She knew he probably hates her now. But somehow she managed to ignore these feelings – pretend that they didn’t exist. Instead she delved head first into planning her wedding again.

Paul told her to go ahead with the plans although she kept it to herself that she never cancelled the venue in the first place. “Guess what Paul?” she said, “I managed to get the same venue again. Thank goodness nobody booked them! So we’re back on track.” He looked upset, “Oh really? I was hoping we could get married in the chapel nearby. Remember the one I showed you? Just think how much easier it would be for everyone. They don’t have to go all the way to the Lake District just for a wedding. I know you like it Layla but we should really be realistic. Also, I already booked it. I’m sorry. I thought it would make you happy. Listen, why don’t you cancel the Lake District one. And I’ll take you there for our honeymoon instead? I think that’s a far better idea. Just you and me! It will be wonderful.” And she agreed. Her dreams of the perfect wedding dashed before her eyes. But it was okay, she kept telling herself, a honeymoon would be wonderful. Perhaps even better.

“I love you Paul,” Layla said one morning – testing out the words again out loud. They sounded hollow somehow. Paul, who was getting ready to go to work, didn’t hear her. When he was finished getting ready, his red and black striped tie signalling the fact that he had an important meeting today, he came by gave her a kiss on the forehead and told her that he’d see her later. Layla was a writer, and yet despite publishing two novels already, she was often looked down on by many people. Paul included. “Don’t get too bored today,” were words he often used. Or “Hey, you’re home all day, do you mind – “and so would follow a list of chores that he needed to be done. It wasn’t just Paul, many of her friends thought the same. They figured she simply wrote a few pages out a day and then had the rest of the day to herself. They had no idea how difficult it was to be a writer.

It was Layla’s dream job for so many years and when a publisher shown interest in her first novel, only three years ago, she was ecstatic. The second book did even better than the first and the publisher signed her up for a third novel – which was due in a few months. She was hoping she’d be able to get the deadline extended and use her upcoming wedding as an excuse. The truth had nothing to do with the wedding though, and everything to do with her emotional state of mind. She simply could not concentrate on writing a single word down these days and it was starting to stress her out. She quickly typed out a message to her publisher, asking for an extension. If she got that then perhaps she’d feel a little more relaxed. But as soon as she finished sending the message she felt her stomach turn and she rushed to the bathroom to throw up. The nerves must be getting to her. Her mom always told her that if you don’t let your problems out then they will find a way to come out.

But the next day she woke up feeling nauseous again. It was a Saturday and Paul was making them breakfast. It was a tradition that the two of them started years ago – Saturday morning was his one day to cook for them. A big fry up – Paul’s only treat within his normally super healthy week. Layla slept in a little while as he busied himself in the kitchen. Hearing him pottering around she had a sudden sense of normality overtake her and she thought that perhaps she was starting to get used to this life again. But as soon as she came downstairs and smelled the bacon and eggs she ran to the bathroom to throw up. Paul looked worried when she came down but she assured him that she simply caught a bug and would be fine. After that, she forced down a few bites of everything that he made, so as not to upset him. Instead of talking, they each took a different part of the newspaper to enjoy with their tea. Paul always went straight for the property and news section while Layla went straight to entertainment. She was aware that this made her seem somewhat unintelligent compared to him but she didn’t care. She always hated reading about bad news and felt as if it added nothing to her life. But this time, she could barely read a thing. She found herself just flipping through the pages and pretending as if she was reading. She had far too much on her mind and the nausea was starting to build up inside of her. She knew, even though she didn’t want to admit it, that she didn’t have a stomach bug.

Later that day she took a leisurely walk to the shop. Paul couldn’t understand why she didn’t take the car but she was desperate to get some fresh air. It was a strangely cool day for the time of the year and it felt good to get out and feel the breeze on her skin. She gulped in the air, desperate to feel better. At the shop she bought herself three pregnancy tests as well as a few random items in case Paul wondered why she needed to go shopping. She wanted to make sure she was pregnant before telling anyone and she figured that after three tests she should get an idea.

With a shaking hand she paid for them, gave a fake smile to the lady behind the counter who felt the need to congratulate her, and then took a slow walk home. She was in no rush to get back – the thought of the pregnancy weighing heavily upon her. At home she discovered that Paul had gone out – leaving her a message to say he was going for a last minute golf session with a friend and that he’d be back later. She was grateful. She used all three tests and then went to the kitchen to make herself some tea. She simply could not stand the thought of coffee at the moment – which was almost a better answer than the pregnancy tests themselves, as she usually loved coffee. Once her tea was ready, she knew the tests would be ready too, but she sat for some time drinking her tea, unable to make the first move. Finally, with a world-weary sigh, she got up. The results were clear – all three tests said the same thing. She was pregnant. She had no idea how she was going to tell Paul or how he would take it. This was going to change everything. Layla sat for an hour thinking of different ways to tell him, conjuring up his own response each time, even though she had no idea if he would be happy or not. And then suddenly, a thought occurred to her that made her audibly gasp. What if it wasn’t Paul’s baby?