Something About You

Her Favorite

The restaurant buzzed with energy as the entire Lionsgate United squad—players, coaches, staff, and crew—gathered to celebrate their recent win. It wasn’t a formal event, just a casual dinner meant to reflect on the match and enjoy the victory together. Plates clinked, bursts of laughter filled the air, and conversations overlapped as everyone found their groups.

“This is a regular thing,” Sarah leaned in to tell Layla, nudging her playfully. “Whenever we win, they always organize these get-togethers. But it’s your first time, right?”

Layla gave her a small smile and nodded. “Yeah. It’s... lively,” she admitted, looking around at the team scattered across the room.

She had thought she’d feel out of place—after all, she was still new. But the easy camaraderie that filled the room made her relax. Players who usually looked tense and focused on the field now had their guards down, joking with each other, while the coaching staff exchanged anecdotes over drinks. Yet even as she tried to enjoy herself, Layla couldn’t stop her gaze from drifting to Aaron.

He sat a few tables away, surrounded by a few teammates, casually scrolling through his phone in between bursts of conversation. His fingers tapped lazily on the screen, and every so often, he’d glance up, smirking at a joke someone made, then return his focus to his phone.

Layla bit her lip and shifted in her seat, frustrated at herself for looking at him. Why do I keep doing this? she thought, annoyed by the flutter of nerves in her stomach. It wasn’t like she had any reason to care what he was doing—or who he was messaging, for that matter.

But every time she tried to focus on her plate or the conversation at her table, her gaze wandered back to him. There was something in the way he leaned back in his chair, seemingly at ease with the world, that held her attention longer than it should.

"You're staring," Sarah whispered, nudging her side with an amused grin.

Layla snapped out of it and shot her friend a glare. “I’m not,” she hissed, a little too defensively.

“Sure you’re not,” Sarah teased, sipping from her drink. “You’ve been glancing at him every two minutes like he’s some kind of rare bird.”

Layla rolled her eyes but said nothing. She picked at the edge of her napkin, hoping the conversation would move on. The truth was, she didn’t even know why she kept stealing glances at him. She didn’t want to care about what Aaron was doing—didn’t want to feel that ache in her chest every time she saw him smile at someone else or catch him preoccupied with his phone.

She looked again, almost instinctively, just in time to see Aaron laugh at something one of his teammates said, his dimples flashing briefly. He didn’t seem to notice her at all—too caught up in whatever was happening in his circle.

Sarah leaned closer and murmured with a knowing smirk, “If you like him, you could just talk to him, you know.”

Layla stiffened. “I don’t—” She cut herself off, knowing how pointless it would be to deny it. “It’s not like that,” she whispered, though even to her own ears, it sounded unconvincing.

“Right,” Sarah drawled, clearly not buying it.

Layla let out a small sigh, rubbing the back of her neck in frustration. She tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter—Aaron was just another player at the club. He was someone she used to know, sure, but they weren’t close anymore. So why do I care what he’s doing?

The answer gnawed at the edges of her mind, unspoken but undeniable. No matter how much she tried to distance herself, she couldn’t shake the way her heart seemed to betray her every time she saw him. It was as if being around him pulled her into some gravitational force she couldn’t resist, no matter how hard she tried.

Suddenly, Aaron glanced up from his phone, his gaze sweeping across the room—and for a split second, their eyes met. Layla froze, her heart stuttering in her chest.

His expression didn’t change; if anything, he looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected to catch her staring. And then—just like that—he shifted his focus back to his phone, as if nothing had happened.

Layla exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her pulse racing.

“Yup. Definitely not like that,” Sarah muttered under her breath, clearly amused at Layla’s discomfort.

“Shut up,” Layla whispered back, her cheeks burning as she focused all her attention on the glass of water in front of her, willing her heartbeat to slow down.

Aaron, meanwhile, seemed unaffected, scrolling casually on his phone as if nothing had changed. But that brief moment of eye contact lingered in Layla’s mind, stubborn and persistent, making it impossible to ignore the truth she was trying so hard to avoid.

Maybe, she thought, maybe it really is like that after all.

...

On the other side of the room, Aaron sat with a few of his teammates, comfortably slouched in his chair. They were talking about the match from last week, replaying moments, and poking fun at some mistakes. The conversation drifted between strategies that worked and near misses, all laced with the kind of banter only teammates could get away with.

"That second half was intense, man. I thought we were done for until that last goal," one of his teammates, Wes, said with a grin.

Aaron chuckled, drumming his fingers against the edge of his phone. "Yeah, it could’ve gone either way. Lucky we pulled through in the end."

Another teammate, Jaden, leaned forward with a mischievous smirk. “That celebration you did—what was that all about? The one with the 'B' sign. New tradition or what?”

Aaron gave a lazy shrug, his lips quirking into a small grin. “Nah. Just... felt right in the moment.” He didn’t elaborate, and the guys didn’t press him further, though Wes shot him a curious look.

As the conversation shifted to the next fixture and their upcoming training schedule, Aaron turned his attention to his phone. His fingers swiped across the screen, hesitating briefly as he pulled up one of the photos from last week’s match.

It was one of him mid-celebration—right after scoring the final goal. He stood in front of the crowd, hands forming a “B” with his fingers, his expression alight with pure joy. He’d liked the photo more than he wanted to admit, not just because it captured a good moment, but because of what it meant.

Aaron stared at the image for a beat longer, then exhaled softly. Without giving himself time to overthink, he selected the picture and set it as his new lock screen wallpaper.

The screen lit up briefly, showing the photo now settled in place. He tilted the phone, inspecting it for a moment, a sense of quiet satisfaction washing over him.

Jaden, who had been watching from the corner of his eye, suddenly leaned closer with a teasing grin. “Wait, wait, wait—did you just change your lock screen?”

Aaron raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer right away, casually slipping his phone onto the table.

Jaden nudged his shoulder. “You? Mr. 'Minimalist'? You’ve had that plain white background for, what, years? What’s the deal? You never change it.”

Wes chimed in, smirking. “Yeah, man, I thought the plain white was, like, your thing. What’s so special about this picture?”

Aaron gave a small laugh, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced at the screen again. “It’s... someone’s favorite photo,” he admitted, his voice low but steady.

Jaden’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Someone’s favorite, huh?” He leaned back dramatically. “And who might *that* someone be?”

Aaron only smirked, brushing off the question with a shake of his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, it definitely matters,” Wes added, grinning wide. “C’mon, Bekker, spill. Who’s got you changing your whole aesthetic?”

Aaron shrugged again, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “Just someone whose opinion I care about.”

His teammates exchanged amused glances, sensing there was more to the story, but Aaron didn’t offer any further explanation. Instead, he picked up his drink and took a sip, acting as though the conversation was already over.

Jaden leaned closer, still grinning. “This someone must be pretty important if they got you ditching your signature lock screen.”

Aaron rolled his eyes but smiled, unable to hide the slight warmth creeping into his expression. “Yeah,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Maybe they are.”

He could feel the weight of his teammates’ teasing stares, but for once, he didn’t mind. The image on his phone—the one of him celebrating mid-match—wasn’t just a photo. It was a reminder of something, or maybe someone, who had started to creep back into his thoughts, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

The conversation around the table shifted again, drifting toward other topics, but Aaron’s mind stayed on that moment for just a little longer. He glanced down at his phone one more time, fingers brushing the screen lightly.

It wasn’t just any photo—it was her favorite. And somehow, knowing that made it his favorite too.

As Aaron sat with his teammates, casually glancing at his phone between the bursts of conversation, something tugged at his attention from across the room. He shifted in his seat slightly, his gaze wandering until, for a brief moment, his eyes locked with Layla's.

It was a fleeting connection, like two ships passing in the night. Aaron’s expression didn’t change—he remained composed, cool as always, giving no outward sign of recognition. His face showed no hint of surprise or discomfort, as though the accidental eye contact meant little. With a practiced ease, he looked back down at his phone as if nothing had happened.

On the other side of the room, Aaron remained still for a second, his expression steady. But beneath the surface, there was something else. His thumb swiped across the screen of his phone, unlocking it, and this time, instead of the lock screen photo of his goal celebration, the homescreen revealed a different image.

It was a photo of a small child—a little girl with bright, mischievous eyes and a wide, toothy grin. Her front teeth stuck out slightly, her gappy smile full of innocence and joy, her face framed by wild curls. She couldn't have been more than five or six, her energy almost bursting from the screen.

Aaron’s demeanor softened instantly. His fingers gently brushed the screen, tracing the girl’s smile with a tenderness that seemed at odds with his usual stoic attitude. He smiled to himself, a rare, unguarded smile, as though just looking at her made the world around him fade away. His thumb lingered on the screen, gently gliding over the girl's cheek, almost as if he were stroking her face in real life.

He exhaled slowly, the warmth of that simple moment spreading through him. Whoever she was, she clearly meant something to him. He found himself lost in that picture for a few seconds longer than intended, savoring the feeling it gave him.

...

The room buzzed with energy—conversations flowing, glasses clinking, and laughter bubbling across the tables. Layla sat quietly, trying to stay in the background while half-listening to Sarah talk about the latest football gossip. But in the back of her mind, a nagging thought refused to leave her alone: Calvin’s wish book. It sat buried at the bottom of her tote bag, a tiny piece of hope she was supposed to give to Aaron days ago. She had told herself that she'd give it to him when the moment was right, but the longer she waited, the more she doubted she ever would.

As the night went on, Layla’s gaze flickered to Aaron again—just in time to catch him standing up abruptly from the table. His movements were sharp and purposeful, a sudden departure that left his friends exchanging confused glances. Without saying much, Aaron pocketed his phone and walked toward the exit, weaving through the room with a determined air.

Layla’s heart skipped a beat. Now’s your chance, she thought. If she didn’t give him the book now, she might never find the right moment again. She grabbed her bag from the back of her chair and slung it over her shoulder, muttering a quick excuse to Sarah as she stood.

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

She slipped out of the gathering, following the direction Aaron had gone. The hallway outside the banquet room was dim and quiet, a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere she’d just left behind. Her footsteps echoed faintly as she quickened her pace, clutching the strap of her bag nervously.

As Layla reached the exit that led to the back terrace, she slowed down, careful not to make any noise. The cold night air brushed against her skin as she stepped out into the open, her eyes scanning the dimly lit space.

And that’s when she saw him.

Aaron stood a few meters away, his tall frame leaning slightly forward as he wrapped his arms around someone—Alaia. She was nestled against his chest, her arms looped comfortably around his neck. The embrace looked intimate, like they had no one else in the world at that moment. Alaia’s head rested on his shoulder, and Aaron’s hands moved gently across her back, as if offering silent reassurance.

Layla froze on the spot. Her breath hitched, and her hand tightened instinctively around the book inside her bag. She had come out here to talk to him, to hand over Calvin’s little wish book—but now, she felt like she had stumbled into something she wasn’t supposed to see.

Her first instinct was to turn around and leave. Just go back inside. Pretend you never saw this. But the moment she shifted on her heels to leave, Aaron’s gaze flicked up—and their eyes met.

He saw her.

Layla’s stomach twisted painfully as the realization sank in. She had no way out now. Aaron’s expression changed subtly—surprise flashing across his face, followed by something harder to read. Guilt, maybe? Or hesitation? His hands slowly loosened their hold on Alaia, dropping away from her back as he stepped away from the embrace.

“Layla…” Aaron's voice was quiet but carried across the cool night air like a weight. Alaia turned her head in confusion, looking between the two of them, clearly sensing the sudden tension.

Layla swallowed the lump rising in her throat, forcing her face into what she hoped was a polite smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she mumbled, her voice brittle and a little too light.

Alaia’s smile faltered, the warmth in her expression slowly fading. "Sorry, Aaron was just calming me down, that’s all," she said hastily. Though her words seemed convincing, there was a guilt she couldn’t quite hide. Aaron stayed silent, his eyes fixed on Layla with that same unreadable look, as if trying to figure out what she was thinking. Layla frowned, confused as to why Alaia felt the need to apologize.

Layla shifted her weight nervously, her fingers tapping against the edge of her bag. Just hand him the book and leave. That had been the plan, right? But now, the thought of giving him Calvin’s book in front of Alaia felt unbearable, like she was exposing a vulnerable part of herself that she wasn’t ready to share.

Still, she forced a small smile. “Actually... I was looking for you,” Layla said, her voice quieter now. She pulled the wish book from her bag and held it out toward Aaron. “One of the kids I volunteer with made this. It’s for you.”

Aaron stared at the book in her hands for a moment, as if not quite processing her words. Then, slowly, he reached out to take it. His fingers brushed against hers briefly in the exchange, and Layla felt a jolt run through her at the contact, though she kept her expression neutral.

“Thanks,” Aaron murmured, glancing down at the colorful little book in his hands. His thumb traced the uneven edges of the pages, but his attention flickered back to Layla. “You didn’t have to—”

“I know.” Layla cut him off with a small shrug, her voice tight but controlled. “But it was important to him.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken things. Alaia looked between the two of them again, sensing something she couldn’t quite understand, but she remained quiet, offering Aaron a reassuring smile.

“I should head back inside,” Layla said abruptly, breaking the silence before it could drag on any longer. She nodded once, giving them both a polite smile. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

And with that, she turned and walked back toward the door, her heart pounding in her chest.