Forgetting Sparks

Chapter 3

Layla couldn't shake the memory of Omar's smirk, the easy confidence in his voice as he teased her. He was the same Omar, but everything about him felt more intense—more real, more dangerous. She hated that he could make her heart race like this, that he could make her feel like she was back in high school, sneaking glances at him between classes.

Days had passed since their reunion, but her thoughts kept circling back to him. She knew it was ridiculous—she was an adult, she had a life, responsibilities, dreams that didn't involve him. And yet, here she was, wondering if he'd call, if they'd see each other again.

As she walked to her apartment, lost in thought, her phone buzzed. She looked down to see a message from him:

Omar: "Up for a drive tonight?"

Layla felt her heart skip. It was impulsive, the kind of thing she would've jumped at years ago. She hesitated, her fingers hovering over the screen. But before she could second-guess herself, she typed back:

Layla: "Why not? Pick me up at 8."

Just before 8 p.m., she stood by her window, watching for his car. She didn't know what to expect from tonight, but maybe that was what made it so thrilling.

A sleek black car pulled up, and Omar stepped out, looking like he'd walked straight off the pages of a fashion magazine—leather jacket, dark jeans, that effortlessly cool smirk as he caught sight of her. She felt herself blushing as she stepped outside.

"Nice ride," she said, sliding into the passenger seat.

He shrugged. "Just a rental. Figured I'd try something new."

Layla raised an eyebrow, amused. "You haven't changed one bit, have you?"

Omar laughed, glancing at her as he pulled onto the road. "You'd be surprised. But some things don't change. Like how I still know all your favorite songs."

And to her surprise, he turned up the stereo, and one of her old favorite songs from high school started playing. She laughed, caught off-guard by the memory. "You still remember?"

He shot her a sidelong glance, his grin a little softer this time. "Hard to forget. You used to play this song every time we'd drive out to the beach."

They fell into a comfortable silence as they drove through the city, watching the lights blur by, the familiar tune bringing back memories of laughter, late-night talks, and stolen moments. She felt herself relax, the years between them fading away.

"So," he said finally, breaking the silence, "what's been going on with you?"

Layla paused, not sure how to summarize her life. "Nothing as exciting as your life, I'm sure. Just work, friends, the usual."

"Come on," he pressed, a playful glint in his eyes. "You're too interesting for 'just work and friends.' There's gotta be more."

She laughed. "Fine. I've been working at a non-profit for kids. It's a lot of work, but I love it."

Omar looked genuinely impressed. "See? That's what I mean. That's amazing, Layla."

She shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed under his intense gaze. "It's nothing big. Just trying to make a difference, I guess."

They drove out to the edge of town, to an overlook where the city lights stretched out before them. Omar parked, turning off the engine, and they sat in silence for a moment, taking in the view.

"Sometimes I forget how beautiful this city is," she murmured, gazing at the skyline.

Omar leaned back, his arm resting on the back of her seat, closer than he needed to be. She could feel the heat radiating from him, a familiar but dangerous warmth.

"It's not the only beautiful thing here," he said, his voice low, that old charm slipping back into his tone.

She rolled her eyes, laughing, but she couldn't ignore the way her pulse quickened. "Oh, please. Do those lines actually work on people?"

He leaned closer, a daring glint in his eyes. "Depends. Is it working on you?"

Layla's breath caught as she looked up at him. The city lights reflected in his dark eyes, and for a moment, she was sixteen again, falling for her best friend all over again. She tried to keep her composure, but his gaze was magnetic, drawing her in.

"Maybe," she whispered, surprising herself with her honesty.

His gaze softened, his face inches from hers. She could feel his breath, warm against her skin, and her heart pounded as she waited, breathless, for what he might do.

But just as he leaned in, a loud honk shattered the quiet night, pulling them back to reality. Omar pulled away, laughing under his breath.

"Looks like the universe has other plans," he murmured, his smirk returning. But she saw the hint of frustration in his eyes, and she knew that he'd felt it too—the spark, the connection that neither of them could ignore.

He started the car again, and they drove back to her apartment in comfortable silence, the air charged with unspoken words, unfinished moments. When they finally pulled up in front of her building, he glanced over at her, his expression softer, more serious.

"Layla," he said, his voice quiet, "I don't want to mess things up again. But... being here, with you, it feels right."

Her heart ached, and she searched his eyes, wanting to believe him. "I don't want to get hurt again, Omar."

He reached over, his hand warm as it covered hers. "I won't let that happen. Not this time."

She squeezed his hand, feeling the tension dissolve, just for a moment. "Good night, Omar."

He smiled, reluctant to let her go. "Good night, Layla."

As she stepped out of the car, she glanced back, catching one last look at him. And as he drove away, she knew—no matter how much she tried to protect herself, she was already falling for him all over again.