Page 103 of Finding Hope

“Six-time world champion,” I grumble. Extending my hand, I refuse to move a step closer. “Give me the keys. I’ll drive.”

“Yeah. Nah.” She grins wolfishly. “Don’t think so.”

Well, shit.

Everyone else was coddling me today. I was craving normalcy, but a little coddling from this beautiful girl wouldn’t go unappreciated.

Instead, I get sassy Bambie and legs bent almost to my chin as I fold my large body into her passenger seat. Blindly searching for the lever to push the seat back, Britt slides into the driver’s seat and watches me fumble.

“It’s back as far as it’s gonna go, Dr. Banner. Take a deep breath, then hold it. I don’t want you to transform and explode Miss Betsy.”

I grunt and almost dislocate my knee in an effort to get the door closed. “Miss Betsy?”

“Well,obviouslymy car, dummy.”

Where’s the coddling? Why won’t she coddle me?

Looking over my shoulder at Annie’s comfortable ass sprawled out in the back, I frown. “Swap you, girl?”

She opens her eyes contemptuously, snorts, then closes them again and promptly begins to snore.

I see how it is.

Rolling my eyes, I turn back to the front. “Can we go? I’d like to get out again before my spine fuses like this.”

“You’re cute when you’re trying to be snappy.”

“I’m not cute,” I grumble. “I’m sexy. I’m an asshole. Puppies and babies are cute.”

Other than laughing, she ignores my whining and pulls out of my driveway. Playing with the stereo absentmindedly, she stops on a Britney Spears song at least two decades old. “Wow, really?”

Her brow quirks. “What?”

“You listen to Britney Spears?”

“Sure, she’s amazing.”

“I think you just got ugly.”

Cackling, she slows and waits for the gates to open, and as we pull through, the wind races through her open windows, whipping her hair over her delicate shoulders.

Pulling her sunglasses down over her eyes, she looks way too fucking cool to hang out with me.

We move along residential streets, and I study her beautiful features as she sings along to Britney’sWomanizer.

The irony isn’t lost on me when she serenades me with the chorus and a sassy twinkle in her eyes. She knows every damn word, and I find myself impressed despite my reluctance. She can actually hold a tune, butthen again, so can her brother. It’s not unreasonable to think the talent runs in the family.

This Brittany makes the other Britney tolerable.

“So where are we going?”

“We’re going shopping.”

“Ew.” My lip turns up in a sneer, an instant loathing at the prospect of standing around a mall for hours while I hold her purse.

Been there, done that before.

My sisters can waste an entire fucking week in a mall and not break a sweat.

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