Page 51 of Finding Hope

BRITT

ONE MONTH LATER

“Hey, Britt! Wait up.”

Groaning, I drop my shoulders and stop walking.

So close! I was so close to freedom.

Turning in the middle of the school hall, I watch Brad’s mad dash between dozens of students in his attempt to catch me before I escape.

I’ve been ducking him since our date.

He wasseriouslypissed after Jack left us that night.

I mean, I get any guy would be pissed that his date was kissed on the cheek by another man, especially when the other man was bigger and hotter than him, but that was our first date ever.

Best behavior, right?

If his tight hands and snappy words were his best-date-behavior, then I have neither the patience, nor the inclination to meet day-to-day Brad.

No thanks.

My brothers taught me better than that.

“Hey.” He stops in front of me. Close.Too close.“I’m so glad I caught you.”

I turn as if to say‘walk and talk.’Mostly I just want to walk. “Hey, Brad. Sorry I haven’t returned your calls, I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah.” His voice, a low rumble, precedes his hand pressingoh so lightlyagainst my lower back. I walk faster. “I hope you’ve been well.”

I paste on the best smile I can muster and move faster. I probably looklike I sucked on a lemon. And maybe have a pending case of the runs. “I’ve been well, just busy with stuff coming up.”

I’m not even a little bit busy. I spend almost all of my time in the backyard with my brothers and friends. We’re in our twenties and thirties now, but weekends feel like we’re still in our teens.

Continuing through the long hall, I push the heavy double doors open and step into the sun.

Freedom. Sweet, blessed freedom.

“So, you up to anything this weekend?”

Not with you!“Um, I think I have plans actually…” I skip down the front steps and move across the parking lot. “Yeah, I already have something planned. With–” Silently, I chide myself for being a shitty liar, but before I can form a plan, I almost snap my ankle at the sight of a giant minivan and six Kincaid children.

Like my asshole knight in poo armor, Jack stands beside the sliding door looking all badass in jeans and a leather jacket. With a black ballcap pulled low over bright eyes, he laughs and counts kids.

This would look amazing, itshouldlook amazing, but the minivan is the size of a bus and ruins the whole image. That should be his Mustang, or a motorbike.

He’d look sexy as hell on a bike.

“Britt?” Brad’s demanding voice brings me crashing back to reality. “You have plans?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Stopping when Brad’s strong hand grips my arm, my eyes shoot up to Jack’s, only to find his eyes on mine. “Um…”Think faster, dumbass!“Yeah, sorry. I have plans with my friend this weekend. You remember Jack?”

Looking over my shoulder with narrowed eyes, Brad no doubt studies the muscle clad badass with six billion children. “You have plans with yourfriend?” His emphasis onfrienddoesn’t go unnoticed. “I was hoping we could go out again, Britt. I had such a nice time with you.”

“Umm–”

“Did you have a nice time, too?”

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