Page 9 of The Score We Never Settled

I never should’ve left Magnolia Ridge. I should have listened to Uncle Ben when he warned me against this boy.

But Briggs was someone who coaxed me to break all the rules, even if he didn’t verbally say to.

Because my heart had a mind of its own.

It only wanted Briggs Kerrigan.

It didn’t matter what else we would’ve gone through to make it a reality.

3

LAYLA

“There’s my favorite niece.”

I jump at the sound of my uncle’s voice, guilt piercing through my body over nothing I did wrongtodayand everything I’ve done wrong behind his back before.

It’s a vicious cycle.

“Hey…Uncle Ben,” I toss back as casually as I can, trying to look as seamless as possible while mixing a fresh batch of pie filling. “How’s it goin’ today?”

Flicking my focus up to him as he rounds, his brows are furrowed as if he knows.

That he can seeallover my face that I saw Briggs Kerrigan today. And that was always a big no-no.

My parents passed away when I was twelve, dying in a tragic car accident, and Uncle Ben took me in. He’s also suffered loss, losing Aunt Denise a few years later.

We’ve always been close, stuck together through thick and thin, and he has always supported me.

However, what he hasneversupported is Briggs Kerrigan.

In fact, it was his worst nightmare.

I swear, even the church had a song specifically made for Briggs one year when he practically fought every boy in schoolat least once. There was always talk within the church—the only church in Magnolia Ridge—about how troubled he was, but it was quickly forgiven because he’d mow Mrs. Clara’s lawn every Thursday for free after her sons went to college. He fixed the church steps one year, which earned him a lot of praise and unwanted attention, and Briggs always had this way to make the town love him, even though he terrorized half the people in it.

Kinda like how he does with baseball.

“You’re jumpier than a deer in huntin’ season,” Uncle Ben vouches back with a bit of amusement in his tone. “Ya okay?”

“Yep!”

That only makes his face skew before he perks one suspicious eyebrow. “Ya didn’t forget to make my brown butter maple pecan pies, did ya?”

Now, I’m the one twisting my face. “Of course not. You’re as predictable as gas station coffee tasting like regret.” I smile. “Which you’ve been drinking, by the way.”

He scoffs. “That was in my truck before.”

“Yeah?” I place my glass bowl down on the table in front of me and keep my attention on him. “You cleaned your truck out last week.”

“Missed it.”

“Your favorite andonlyniece serves the best coffee in town, ya know? The same one who makes you popular at your Wednesday night poker.”

Uncle Ben hits me with an exasperated stare. “I don’t know what ya mean. I ain’t been to that gas station since last weekend.”

“Which is when you threw that coffee cup away.”

He rolls his eyes. “Ya pay too much attention to me. I’m gonna add another pie to my card night if ya don’t leave me alone.”