Page 161 of Fighting Chance

you should have told me you weren’t feeling well

Cindy’s coming down with a cold too and can’t make it

it’s going around

I bet it’s nothing to worry about Lil

LAYLA

I hope so

you aren’t scared of getting sick?

BELLA

no, we’re due for a best friend night

plus you know me, immune system of steel

LAYLA

wish you could give me some of that

BELLA

I’d give it to you in a heartbeatif I could

Kieran is domesticated.

Emmy is snuggled up beside me, one of her many books in her lap. Trust me, the book lover in me is screaming—I should be reading to her, should be engaging—but I find I can’t take my eyes off Kieran.

He whistles and sings to himself, music softly playing from his phone as he moves around the kitchen like he knows every nook and cranny.

Why is he taking care of me?

This isn’t the typical concerned employer—this is more. The man in the kitchen fretting over making me a bowl of chicken noodle soup, the one that gently handed me a steaming mug of honey and lemon tea, is not the playboy I read about on the bunny sites last year.

This is the true Kieran Ashford; this is his heart and soul on display.

I just don’t know what I did to be lucky enough to see it.

The front door bangs open, startling Emmy for a moment before a loud bark rings out. Book suddenly forgotten, Emmy launches off the couch, squealing. “Bambi!”

Bella rounds the corner, her jaw practically unhinged at hearing Emmy’s voice.

Kieran frowns as he walks over, gently handing me a bowl of chicken noodle soup that smells divine. His fingers brush my hand as he moves away.

“Ever heard of knocking?” Kieran calls out.

Grayson snorts. “Payback time, buddy. I’m going to make your life a living hell with next door to me.” He clicks his tongue. “You seem to forget I have cameras. I know you still sneak over and steal Bella’s cooking.”

I gasp, turning. “Kieran!”

He shrugs sheepishly. “What? They’re really good blueberry muffins.”

Bella just rolls her eyes, beelining for me as Bambi and Emmy take off upstairs. She sits beside me, careful not to jostle the food in my lap as she wraps an arm around my shoulder. “How are you feeling, Lil?”

Tipping my head side to side, my lips purse. “Not the best.” Sighing I confess, “I think it’s taking a toll on me emotionally more than physically. I haven’t had to cancel plans in so long it scared me that I was relapsing.”