Page 13 of Fighting Chance

Bella claps her hands from the kitchen. “You’re both as bad as each other right now, knock it off. Layla has been looking for a job without any luck. She’d probably take anything at this stage.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not that bad.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

Layla sure acts like I’m carrying a plague, though. I’ve never had a woman avoid me as much as she does, and it drives me insane.

Of course the one woman I have interest in beyond a one-night stand is someone who can’t stand me.

“I’ll have her come over.”

That has me straightening. “Now?”

Bella shrugs. “Why not? We could all have dinner together.” She points at Emmy with her spatula. “You can see ifthey get along.”

Running a hand through my hair, I note how my palms are suddenly slick with sweat. “Okay, want me to text her?”

“If you want her to turn up, I’d suggest you let me do the texting.”

I don’t care who texts her. As long as that wild red hair makes an appearance tonight, I’d be a happy man.

And a very nervous one.

Chapter 4

Layla

LAYLA

You know it’s bad when Momma Bear Carson is trying to take your phone away

BELLA

still no luck?

LAYLA

not even a rejection letter

I’ve never been so thoroughly ghosted in my life

Clinging to the towel wrapped around my body, the fluorescent lights of my bathroom highlight the water droplets gliding down my skin as I stare at the medicine cabinet lined with endless orange and white-capped bottles.

Twelve years.

Hundreds of doctor appointments.

Thousands of needles.

Endless hospital admissions.

Infinite tests.

Countless doctors shaking their heads in confusion, and an ungodly number of them telling me it was all in my head or that it was simply anxiety or PMS.

Every symptom my body showed was noted, tracked and recorded. My entire existence under a microscope because science for once didn’t have answers.

And if they did it led me in circles.