Page 164 of Collided

Picking up the knife, I cut the cake and the three of them eat it, but I don’t, because I don’t like chocolate. Also, I’ll have to work extra hard to lose those calories.

Sebastian doesn’t have a care in the world as he munches on the cake like a starved man. Great. Now he’s also becoming a chocolate addict.

“You want some?” Hope asks with a bit of chocolate on the side of her mouth.

“No.”

“Try it.” She advances the plate toward me, but I have something else in mind.

I lick my thumb and graze it over the chocolate mark, slowly getting it off. Pulling back, I taste the chocolate off my thumb and for once I don’t mind the sweet taste.

Hope watches me with an innocent gaze that tightens the knots in my stomach. Her mouth parts making me want to kiss her.

Fucking hell. For the past hour, all I can think about is kissing her.

“I think I like it,” I say.

“Yo-you do-do?” Her gaze drops to my mouth for a second.

“Mhm.”

Her throat moves delicately and fuck I want nothing more than to touch her and kiss her—

What the fuck am I thinking? She’s my friend. She trusts me. I can’t fucking do it.

To distract myself, I look over at the obnoxious couple. They’re dozing off, cuddled in each other’s arms. An imposing sleepoveragainI guess.

Hope and I clean up while Sebastian and Marie get some rest. We’re in the kitchen washing dishes—despite Kelly asking to do it, Hope gets her to agree to let us do it.

“Did you open my present?”

She got me a present.

“No.” I dry the last plate and put it in the cabinet above.

“Oh.” Her facial expressions turn dull.

It fucking bothers me. “Give it to me.”

She closes the tap and dries her hands with a washcloth, then faces me. “It’s in your car.”

What? When did she put it there?

I leave the room in a hurry and Hope follows me.

Reaching my garage, I unlock my car. A small blue box sits on the dashboard. It’s covered in a simple white ribbon with a little note on the top.

Happy birthday, Heath.

– Hope

I untie the ribbon and open the box. A simple black bracelet is inside.

Taking it out, I move around the beads with my thumb. A blissful feeling erupts in the center of my chest.

I know how much effort it takes for her to make bracelets. I’ve seen it. Fuck, I’ve even helped her. She spends hours on it to make it perfect.

The fact she did it formeis what has my blood rushing through my veins.

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