Page 78 of Finding Hope

“No!” Wide eyed, she giggles. “I fucked you because your ass was better than mine.”

I snort.

“And the second, third, and fourth times were because I saw your dick the first time, and it felt damn good.”

“You sure know how to make a guy feel good, Bambie.”

With twitching lips and big blue eyes staring up at me, she’s like a snake charmer, and I can’t help but be hypnotized by her beauty. “Tell me your favorite memory with Steph.”

Hesitating, I look over the lookout. “Umm–”

“I mean, only if you want to. I just,” she shrugs shyly. “I’d like to know, if you want to tell me. I bet she was amazing.” Smiling seductively, though I doubt that’s her intention, she takes my hand and threads her fingers through mine.

What kind of warped world is this that I’m talking to a hot girl that I may or may not have a crush on, about my late girlfriend?

Shouldn’t Britt be brushing Steph under the rug to never be mentioned again?

“Um, I’m really not sure.”

A million memories flash through my mind, from high school to graduation, prom and homecoming. The thousands of nights Steph and I spent sitting by Kit and Bobby’s pool, simply talking about nothing, or everything.

About my journey from friendly fights to going pro, or her decision on what to study at college and which school to attend. She was offered scholarships to prestigious schools all across the country, she was valedictorian, she was the smartest girl I ever met, yet she stayed here, drove into the city for classes during the week, then drove home again, to come back to me.

“I really don’t know. She was such a constant in my life for so long, I feel like simply her presence was my favorite thing. I could turn around on any given day, in any gym or room, in any house or city or stadium, and she was there. Every time.”

One of my most constant and paralyzing fears is that she spent all her time doing everything to makemehappy, livingmydreams with me, that she never had a chance to live her own.

I’m scared I stole her life long before the drunk did.

No longer laughing, no longer playful, Britt lays my palm on her thigh and contemplatively plays with my fingers. “I’m sorry you lost her, Jack. I’m really,reallysorry.”

Nodding – because what else can I do? – I bring my hand to the back of her neck and pull her in close. Her eyes flash with uncertainty, excitement, wariness… and finally, acceptance.

I almost stop, I almost get up and walk away, but the acceptance in her eyes spurs me on. Pulling her in until her hands go to my chest, I press my lips to hers in a long, slow caress.

There’s no tongue. No heat. No urgency.

Just a touch of the lips; a comfort for me, and hopefully for her, too.

Sighing against my lips, her soft body pressed against mine has me squeezing my eyes shut.

Yeah, I definitely have a crush on this girl, and I can’t say I’ve ever had a crush on any girl.

Ever.

There was just Steph. The girl I saw and liked at school, the girl I approached, the girl I claimed as my own, and I didn’t give her up till the day she died.

Now there’s Bambie.

The girl I have no fucking clue what to do with.

20

BRITT

HIS TELL

Iwalk into the Rollin On gym three days after our picnic on Lookout Hill and stop at the telltale sound of heavy fists thudding against flesh.

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