Page 110 of Fighting Chance

“E-everything,” she blurts, her chest heaving.

“Define everything.”

My voice is so deep and thick it even stuns me, but damn does it feel good to see her eyes heat at the sound.

“I haven’t done…anything. All I’ve ever done is kiss guys and maybe been weirdly groped here and there, but that’s it, and I want to tryeverything.”

My heart stops beating.

I sit up slowly, her eyes never leaving mine as I crowd her personal space. “Nothing?”

“Nothing,” she whispers.

Her eyes snap to her hand clutching the pillow in front of her and suddenly the mood shifts, my firecracker extinguished. Shuffling forward, I lay a gentle finger under her chin and lift until her sad face meets mine.

“Hey,” I whisper.

“Hi.”

“Why the sudden shift?”

Holding my breath, I’m worried she’s going to brush me off, say nothing or that everything is fine; most people do. But I don’t know why I thought Layla would be like the rest—she’s the most special person I’ve met.

“It’s embarrassing. I haven’t…lived.”

“Yes you have, sunshine. It’s just a life you didn’t deserve.” Her breath hitches and I can tell this could head south quickly. Sliding both my hands up her neck, I cup her jaw, boring into her eyes, hoping she’ll believe every word. “I’m grateful, beyond lucky, and have been wondering what I did to deserve this and you in my life. I say we have fun with it.” Smiling, I try to lighten the mood. “I don’t know if you’ve heard but there’s these puck bunny sites that write blogs about me. Apparently, I’m a pretty good lay.”

She bends over, a laugh exploding from her as she pushes me away. “Trust you to try and make me laugh by reminding me how much of a whore you are.”

“I prefer the term giver.”

Her laughter stops abruptly as she lifts a finger. “I am not touching that one.”

Winking, I sit back. “Come on, tell me what you want. I won’t judge. Actually, I’m excited about all of this and honored you feel safe enough with me to do it.”

That sobers her up. She looks at me then, as if she can find the answers to all her questions just by staring at me.

She makes a sharp point with the fabric of her dress again. “I don’t just want things done to me. I want to…experiment…with you.”

I stop breathing.

My heart stops beating.

I think I stop existing.

Oh my fucking god.

All those nights I laid in bed thinking about the girl with the sharp tongue, with the fiery red hair and sunshine attitude, and imagining what I’d do to her are coming true.

“Do you know what you want to do?” I manage to get out.

She licks her lips. “Yes. Believe it or not, books can be very…eye-opening in that department.”

Oh I know that.

That book she was talking about earlier? The one she’s read a hundred times, the one I secretly listened to, the one I took inspiration from for our first date? That was eye opening. It was raunchy. No, more than raunchy—it wasgraphic.

So much so I want to see what she annotated in that book.