Page 172 of Fighting Chance

“It’s okay if you don’t like it,” I whisper, my nerves on full display. “I won’t be offended.” Hurt beyond measure? Absolutely. “But it was fun. I like building things that aren’t just Legos and now you and Emmy will have a room to read together. I saw that you’ve completely run out of space to put your books at home and thought you could?—”

“You’ve seen my room?” she squeaks out.

My body stiffens, my back to her so she can’t see the way I curse myself for being so stupid.

Spinning, I shrug sheepishly. “Yeah…sorry. I dropped by…” I try to lie, but as she stares at me with a mixture of awe and shock, I find I can’t. I can’t lie on a good day, but I especially can’t lie to her.

Never to Layla.

Rubbing the nape of my neck, I avert my gaze, not wanting to see the look on her face as I whisper, “I asked your mom to show me your favorite books.”

“Why?”

One word.

One word exhaled on a breath of surprise.

Swallowing thickly, I walk over to one of the floor-to-ceiling shelves I built and pick up the copy I bought of her most beloved book. With my heart in my throat—on display for her to see, for her to take and crush in her palm—I hold out the copy to her. It’s just now I note I’m trembling slightly.

“What’s this, Kieran?”

She takes it from me, thumbing through it only to stop at the small writing along the pages.

“D-did you annotate it?”

Nodding, I keep my eyes fixed on the floor as my cheeks heat. “I wanted to know why you love it so much. Your mom explained how you annotate books and I thought you might find it interesting to see my annotations…compare our reactions.”

“You read my favorite book and annotated it?”

Lifting my head, I steel myself for what I’m about to find. Tears are not what I expected.

“Fuck,” I curse. “I overstepped. I know I did, I’m sorry, but?—”

My words are cut off as Layla launches herself at me. She sucks in a heaving breath and chokes out, “This is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Without missing a beat, I wrap my arms around her, lifting her off the floor so she doesn’t have to stand on her tiptoes. Burying my face in the crook of her neck I let her warmth soak through to my bones. Nothing has ever felt as right as when she’s in my arms. It’s similar to how I feel when I hold Emmy, but entirely different. For Emmy, I pour out love, a paternal bond I’ll never be able to fully describe.

Holding Layla is terrifying because I know she isn’t mine. This bond between us is so fragile that I’m petrified one wrong move will send her running. But it’s worth it, the panicked feeling, in exchange for even a drop of the love I have for Layla.

“You don’t think I’m a creep?” I ask, my voice muffled by her hair.

A burst of shocked laughter escapes her. “I’m most definitely wondering why you would go to such lengths for me but no, I love it, Kieran. Truly, it’s beautiful.”

Pulling back, I set her down on her feet, though keeping my arms locked around her. “Why wouldn’t I go to lengths for you?” I ask simply.

“Because I’m…me,” she breathes.

“Exactly.”

Layla swallows thickly, her eyes locked on mine.

Before I lose my nerve, I whisper, “We’re canceling any and all plans we had today.”

“We are?”

“We are.” Forcing myself to step away from Layla is the most painful thing I’ve ever had to do. But I want to see the expression on both of my girls’ faces as I announce, “We’re going to the bookstore.”

I’m not sure what is it—the excitement that both of them are bursting with; the way Layla is so soft-spoken and kind to Emmy, making sure to stop and look at the books she points at; or the fact that Layla is entirely in her element.