Page 176 of Fighting Chance

Oh my god.

“Kieran, please,” I plead, needing him to give me all of him.

Suddenly, he rips his mouth away, pulling back. He fists his hand to his mouth, biting it, as if to physically stop himself from kissing me.

I’m heaving, my chest rising and falling rapidly, and I know my eyes are glazed, my cheeks red. The last time I felt like this was in the bookstore and in the parking lot of O’Malley’s.

Until it slowly dies as I look into Kieran’s eyes and see pain.

Scrambling to sit up, I place my hands on his cheeks, only to tear them off when he flinches at my touch.

“Kieran?” I ask hoarsely, panic replacing the pleasure that was coursing through my veins.

“I can’t.” The words seem to physically pain him.

“Can’t what?”

“I’m sorry, Layla.”

It’s like being hit by a truck.

“Oh.”

He shakes his head. “No, you don’t understand?—”

“It’s okay, I do. I’m different than what you usually?—”

“No,” he barks, and the word is so harsh you’d think I suggested murdering someone.

My eyes snap to his to find unending pain shining in his gaze.

“I can’t do this.” He points between us. “I thought I could. I thought I could take what you gave me, I thought I could be grateful for any scraps, but I can’t. Not when it feels this way, not when I know it would utterlydestroyme to have you, only for you to walk away.”

Blinking furiously, I stammer, “I-I don’t understand.”

“Yes, you do. You just don’t want to admit it to yourself.” He grimaces. “Fuck, Layla, I’m sorry, but I just can’t. This isn’t just benefits on the side for me, this isn’t a learning opportunity. This…this iseverythingto me. And experiencing all these firsts with you so you canpreparefor someone else makes me want tostab my heart with a million knives becausethatwould be less painful than the reality of you with someone else.”

“But we…we agreed,” I say, because for some reason I can’t spit out that the thought of being with anyone else makes me physically ill, too.

I can’t say it.

Can’t seem to get my tongue to say the words.

I can’t god damn speak because despite everything he’s saying…he deserves to have someone in his life who doesn’t come with the baggage I carry.

He runs his hand through his hair, and my chest physically aches that it’s not running through mine.

“I know you have feelings for me. I’m not a fool. You can’t have sparks like this with someone and have it be one-sided.” He heaves out a laugh but it holds no humor. “But I can’t keep pretending that you aren’t the thing that makes me excited to get up in the morning. That I don’t count down the hours until I get to see you again. That I don’t seek you out in a room full of people, that I don’t want to touch you every chance I can.”

He swallows, avoiding my eyes as he whispers, “So until the day you make it abundantly clear you feel the same way I do, the day you stop ignoring the spark that courses between us every time we’re near…I can’t be anything more than just a friend.” He lifts his head, and I’m stunned to see silver lining his eyes. “And I know I’ll probably regret this moment for the rest of my life but until you decide that maybe I can be worthy enough for you I can’t keep pretending this means nothing to me when it means everything.” He clutches his chest in pain. “You meaneverythingto me, Layla, and I can’t have you be another person in my life that doesn’t want me back.”

I’m utterly speechless.

My heart has stopped, utterly ceased to exist, to have this kind-hearted man sit before me with pain in his eyes thinking I don’t feel the same way for him.

But my tongue won’t move.

My mind won’t stop reminding me that I’m sick, that I’mwaiting for test results, that I could be currently relapsing, that the freedom I found could be taken away.