Page 165 of Collided

“Do you like it?” Hope asks, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

I nod. I can barely find my voice as emotions climb up my throat.

“Can I put it on?” Her fingers are restless as they fidget with each other, but she’s plucking courage for me. She wants to do it.

“I bet you won’t take no for an answer,” I drawl out in a dry voice.

With a smile, she takes the bracelet from me and steps closer. Gently she ties the thing around my left wrist. “It looks cute on you.”

Cute. That’s the last thing I want to be interpreted as. But the way she lights up at the sight of her bracelet on me, I don’t even care about it.

“Thank you,” I mutter, avoiding her stare.

“You’re welcome.”

The longer I stare at her, the more the heat swirls inside of me. My veins surge with warmth and lust.

My self-restraint weakens when I remember how the chocolate tasted off of her. I bet it’d be a hundred times better if it were her mouth. Her gorgeous, alluring mouth that’s making me lose my mind.

Hope is unaware of the chaos she’s havocking inside of me.

If she knew my thoughts she wouldn’t be standing here alone with me.

I’m about to step closer to her and hold her when her phone buzzes. Whatever’s on the screen turns her face pale, and her posture goes rigid.

“I need to go home.” Without waiting she makes a run for the door, but I run after her and catch her wrist.

When she looks back I can sense her fear more than I can see it in her eyes. Her pulse is going crazy under her flesh, and her skin starts to get cold.

“I’ll drive you.”

“No!” She blanches, trying to free herself.

I gently pull her to me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says immediately.

I want to push her on the matter, but she beats me to it.

“I need to go home now.”

Like always I toss away the conversation and comply with her request.

Ten minutes later we’re near her house. My body is stiff with tension.

Something is terribly wrong in that house. I know it deep in my bones. But I don’t know how to figure it out.

The reason why I became friends with Hope was to help her, but I seem to suck at it. Instead, I’m catching feelings for her. She’s all I can focus on. In school, at home, at the gym, and in the middle of a fucking match. Her eyes and face are all I fantasize about—among other very explicit things.

She’s wearing a dress that has a favorable neckline, giving a sneak peek at her cleavage. The material curves generously around her small breasts.

“So…” Hope starts, fidgeting with her fingers.

I arch an eyebrow.

“Was it a good day for you?”

“It was.” I don’t have to lie. Even though I didn’t participate in the arcade and acted like an asshole. Watching her smile and laugh made me content.

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