Page 92 of Fighting Chance

Groaning in frustration, I run my hands through my hair. “I know I was a ladies’ man but why is it so hard to believe that I haven’t been with anyone?”

Bella clears her throat. “Kieran, I love you like a brother. You know that.”

“Yeah, and you’re my sister from another mother.”

She smiles at that. “Yes, and I say this with love, but you are notorious in the league for never getting attached to a woman.” Her eyes cut to Grayson before sliding back my way. “You’ve never even taken a girl out on a date before.”

I shrug. “Because I haven’t wanted to take anyone out on a date. Layla’s different, though. So how do I make her believe me when I say I only want her?”

Bella eyes me, scrutinizing, before she asks, “You really like her?”

“Yes, how is that not obvious yet?”

“Oh, it’s obvious,” Grayson chimes in.

“I just want to make sure this isn’t because she’s the first girl to say no to you.”

I scoff. “My ego isn’t that fragile.” But something in her expression has me pausing. I gape at her. “Oh my god, that’s what Layla thinks.”

Bella’s hand tips back and forth. “Maybe.”

“That…makes a lot of sense. Actually, I know what I have to do.” Standing, I snatch the container of blueberry muffins and point to my best friends as I run out the door. “I’m taking this as payment for scarring me with your sexcapades. Thank you for the help with Layla!”

“Kieran, wait!” Bella calls, but I’m already on my way.

“What the hell did we just put in his head?” I hear my best friend ask before I close the door.

“I have no idea,” Bella murmurs.

I’m heaving as I storm through my front door after running down Grayson’s long driveway. My entrance wasn’t exactly subtle, and Layla rounds the corner a second later, Emmy sitting on the couch behind her with some Barbies in her lap.

Layla’s hands are wringing together as her eyes, holding a hint of nervousness, lock on me. “Kieran?” She says it as more of a question.

Catching my breath, I point at her. “Kitchen.”

Her eyes widen at the demand but to my utter shock she follows me without complaint. She leans against the kitchen bench, biting her lower lip, and, fuck, that just does something to me.

Pacing the kitchen I have to admit, I didn’t think this through. I should take a day to sleep on it, but instead my heart tugs on my tongue and forces me to turn to Layla and blurt, “Don’t go on a date with him.”

Her lips part as those gorgeous blue eyes widen. “What?”

Pushing off from my spot, I move toward her, peering down at this fiery, soft, and gentle woman that I haven’t been able to stop thinking of since the moment I met her.

“Don’t go on a date with him,” I breathe.

She laughs, but I can tell it’s from nerves, not her usual carefree one. Her eyes dart away, as if she can’t face me.

“Do you really want to go on a date with him?” I ask as she falls quiet.

She begins to play with the corner of her T-shirt, rolling it tightly. “Honestly…no.”

Something in my chest loosens at that and I find it easier to breath until her back straightens. “But I promised myself that when I moved back here, I would start living my life, and part of that is putting myself?—”

“No.”

Her head rears back. “No?” she asks incredulously.

“Not with him.”