I frown. “Does it bother you?”
“It doesn’t bother me,” she huffs. “But I don’t exactly want them to do it more.” She stabs a piece of lettuce with her fork. “When I was a teenager…” she pulls a face. “I wasn’t the most popular kid. I dealt with some shit. And I guess it got in my head.”
It suddenly hits me how little we know about Layla. We’ve known the girl for three years, but she’s still so damn secretive.
As I watch, she cuts her lasagne, crossing her legs and looking around the table uncomfortably. On our last date, she completely relaxed around us; but now she’s locked up again.
I’ve overdone it. The flowers and the candles, me taking her coat and pulling out her chair — she hates all of it. I screwed up.
“You know what? Let’s make this easier.” I stand and pick up both of our plates, carrying them to the sofa. Zack catches on and brings over the drinks, laying them on the coffee table.
“What are you doing?” Layla asks, standing.
“Making you more comfortable. I thought it would be a good idea to simulate a dinner date at a restaurant, but clearly you’re not enjoying that.”
“It’s not that I don’t like it!” She says quickly. “I just… it seems so…”
“Fake?” Zack says cheerfully. “Stiff? Forced?”
Layla dithers. “Unnatural,” she says eventually. “It’s hard for me to relax when you’re being so formal. Makes me feel like I’m getting judged. But that doesn’t mean we have to stop.”
“Anyone who doesn’t care about whether or not you’re comfortable is a shitty date,” I tell her, sitting down on the sofa and patting the spot next to me. “It’s fine. C’mon. Sit and eat.”
Her shoulders slump in relief. “Thanks,” she mutters, slipping onto the sofa between me and Zack. I pass over her drink, and Zack pulls her into his side. I can feel her tense body relaxing between us as she snuggles down.
“Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “What now?”
EIGHTEEN
LAYLA
Josh passes me my plate. “We get to know each other.”
My insides immediately clam up. “I already know you both.”
“Not everything.” His dark eyes flash up to mine. “There are lots of things I don’t know about you. You’re not a particularly chatty person.”
I swallow, looking back down at my plate. “Maybe I like it that way.”
“On dates, people talk, Layla. That’s the point.”
I sigh, poking at my lasagne. “Alright, then. Ask me something.”
He pauses for a few seconds. I tighten my grip on my fork, praying that he won’t ask anything embarrassing.
I didn’t expect to be so nervous on this date. After the last one, I was hoping that I’d be more relaxed, but it feels like I’m right back where I started. Josh and Zack have both lost their suit jackets and ties, and they look absolutely edible with their collars open, sleeves rolled up. Zack stretches next to me, unsubtly wrapping an arm around me, and my heartrate just ratchets even higher.
“What made you get into fashion design?” Josh asks.
I relax. This one’s easy. “Well. It all started out because I was a scholarship student. Emery High — the school where Luke taught me — is a private academy. My parents couldn’t afford the tuition, but I got a scholarship.” I take a bite of food, chewing quickly. “Problem was, the whole uniform cost about two grand altogether. I used to scrounge second-hand stuff from the lost property and try to tailor it to fit me. Took out hems, stitched up holes, stuff like that. But no matter how good I got at sewing, the clothes still looked old. I stuck out in my class like a sore thumb. It wasn’t particularly fun being The Poor Kid.”
“Posh knobs,” Zack mutters, trying to steal some melted cheese off my plate.
I bat him away, smiling when he kisses my cheek in apology. “I was working in a shopping centre at the time, in the lingerie section. They’d given all the employees some store credit as a Christmas bonus, and I saw this push-up in the clearance section. It was hot pink and bright orange lace. I thought it was hot as Hell, so I bought it and wore it to school the next day. And I felt… confident. Pretty. Underneath my ugly, patched up clothes, I had something special on.” I shrug. “I wanted to make other people feel like that. So I signed up for A-levels in Textiles and Design, got into London Fashion School for undergrad, and the rest is history.”