Monday morning didn't feel like a chore for once. When the sun broke over the Montreal skyline, hitting the frost on Layla's window, she didn't groan at her alarm. Instead, she lay there for a few extra minutes, her mind looping the memory of Sunday night like a favorite song. She could still feel the weight of Jade's head on her shoulder and the steady, grounding rhythm of his heart against her own.
For the first time in weeks, she didn't check her phone for a notification from Liam the second she woke up. In fact, she found herself hoping he wouldn't text. The guilt she expected to feel simply wasn't there. Why should it be? She had been the one making the effort, the one showing up, the one worrying, while Liam had been a ghost, leaving her with nothing but "personal stuff" and silence.
She looked at her reflection while brushing her hair, noticing a brightness in her eyes she hadn't seen since she moved here. She was done waiting for a boy who treated her like an option. She was ready to see where the path with the "bad variable" actually led.
The feeling of peace lasted until she reached the university quad. Walking toward the library, she spotted Sarah, and walking right beside her was Liam.
He looked like his old self, the "Perfect Liam." His clothes were pressed, his hair was styled, and that easy, golden-boy smile was back on his face as he laughed at something Sarah said. Layla felt a surge of relief that he was okay, but right behind it came a strange, cold detachment. Seeing him didn't make her heart race anymore. It just felt like looking at a beautiful photo of someone she used to know.
"Layla! You're glowing," Sarah said as they met up, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What happened? Did the Tim Hortons coffee finally give you superpowers?"
"Just a good night's sleep," Layla lied, though her bubbly energy was hard to hide.
Sarah leaned in, her voice dropping to that cryptic, riddle-filled tone she always used. "Just be careful, Layla. Some fires look pretty until they start burning the house down."
Layla looked at her friend and felt a flicker of annoyance. Sarah never shared the full story, never told her why she was so protective or what had happened with Jade years ago. If Sarah wasn't going to be honest, Layla didn't see why she had to share her own secrets either.
"I'm fine, Sarah," Layla said firmly, her eyes drifting to Liam. He gave her a wave, a casual "Hey, Layla," as if he hadn't left her hanging for days. She just nodded back and kept walking.
The afternoon shift at work flew by. She was getting faster with the register, and the rhythm of the "Double-Doubles" and breakfast sandwiches felt like a dance she was finally learning. Her manager praised her speed, and her mom had sent a text earlier saying how proud she was that Layla was taking charge of the Thailand trip costs.
In two weeks, she'd get her first paycheck. It wasn't just money; it was freedom. It was the proof that she could handle her own life.
Lunch was the real test. Usually, Layla and Sarah sat in a quiet corner of the cafeteria, but today, Jade didn't wait for an invitation. He walked up to their table and slid into the chair right next to Layla.
The air at the table turned electric. Sarah looked like she wanted to bolt, her eyes darting between Jade and the cafeteria exit, but Jade acted perfectly cool. He didn't touch Layla, but he sat close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his arm. They talked about mundane things, but every time their eyes met, a silent conversation was happening.
When the final bell rang, Jade was waiting at his car. The drive home was filled with a comfortable, easy chatter that made the miles disappear. When they pulled into the driveway, Layla saw her mother's car was missing.
"Mom's at the store," Layla said, hopping out. She hesitated, then looked at Jade. "You want to come in? I think I have some soda left. No beer, though."
Jade smirked, that familiar, dangerous spark back in his eyes. "Soda is fine, neighbor."
The house was quiet, the afternoon light filtering through the kitchen windows in long, golden slats. Layla went to the fridge, grabbing two cans of ginger ale. Her heart was thumping against her ribs, a wild, frantic bird.
She turned around, expecting Jade to be at the kitchen table, but he was right there. He was standing directly in front of her, blocking her path, his presence filling the small kitchen.
"I miss you being in my arms," he whispered. The honesty of it caught her off guard.
Before she could respond, he pulled her into a hug, but this one was different. It wasn't the "comforting" hug from the night before. This was intense. Layla's hands moved automatically, sliding over his shoulders and tangling in the hair at the back of his neck. She liked the way he felt, solid, real, and completely hers in this moment.
Jade pulled back just an inch, his smoky eyes searching hers. His gaze dropped from her forehead, lingering on her eyes, before settling on her lips.
He leaned in, and when his lips finally met hers, the world outside the kitchen ceased to exist.
The kiss was hot and passionate, a sudden release of all the tension they'd been building since the day she moved in. It tasted like ginger ale and electricity. It was deep and searching, his hands sliding down to her waist to pull her closer, as if he were trying to merge their two souls into one. Layla felt a surge of heat that made her toes curl, her breath hitching as she matched his intensity.
When they finally broke apart for air, Jade didn't pull away completely. He stayed in her space, his forehead resting against hers. He reached up, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, while Layla's hand lingered at the back of his head, her fingers stroking the soft skin there.
Jade let out a low, breathy laugh, a triumphant glint in his eyes. "I knew it," he teased, his voice husky. "I knew you liked me too."
Layla laughed, a genuine, happy sound that filled the room. She couldn't deny it anymore. The chemistry was real, the code was broken, and for the first time in Montreal, everything felt exactly right.