Page 111 of Finding Hope

Rolling my eyes, I collect my coffee and bring the aromatic mug to my nose. “No, he’s fine. He’s not giving me trouble.”

In fact, I haven’t seen him in ages. He stopped dropping by my classroom after he claimed he was training and going pro.

To be honest, I haven’t given him a second thought.

He can stay on his side of the school and pretend to be a badass, and I’ll stay on mine, and perv on Jack on the days he picks me up.

“Alright,” Alex sighs. “Tell that fucker I’m watching him. Other than that, you organize what you want, dinner or whatever, tell me what day. I’ll make sure I’m here to meet yourboyfriend.” He brings a hand down to rest on his holstered gun. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Stop it, X.” I slap his shoulder. “This is why I didn’t tell you yet.”

“You just assaulted an officer, Brat.”

“Why don’t you put me in lockup then, huh? It’d be quieter there than it is here half the time.”

“I wouldn’t lock you up. I save the tank for trouble makers. And Kincaids.”

I snort and escape back upstairs to finish getting ready for school before I tell him I’m dating a sort-of-Kincaid. I can’t decide if I should worry, or if it’ll be funny as hell.

Later that afternoon, after class, after the dreaded pop quiz, after I already marked Evie’s paper during my lunch break simply because I wanted to know how she did, I pack up my desk, swing my bag over my shoulder, and head into the hallway.

Kids sprint in every direction, and the screeching and slamming of locker doors drown out the sounds my heels make on the tile floor.

I love my job. Even if I have to dress way down… and by down, I mean up.

I don’t mind wearing my school teacher getup, because every time a kid learns something new, every time they pay attention in class, or whenthey raise their hand without prompting, every time I write up end of term reports and compare to the one before to find they’ve improved, it makes my job worthwhile.

It makes my job the best in the world.

“Hey, B!”

I turn toward Laine’s calling voice and smile. Slowing my steps, I wait for her to run in three-inch heels and catch up. “Anyone would think you’re avoiding me,” she grumbles. “What the eff, Turner?”

“I’m not avoiding you. I’ve just been busy. What’s happening?”

She falls into step beside me. “Jesus, you guys find a man, and I’m out in the cold. Twenty years of friendship, and I’m lonely and sad while you’re busy hooking up.”

I laugh. “Who else is hooking up? You can’t be that lonely. You have a twin. Aren’t you still connected by osmosis?”

She rolls her eyes. “Thank god we’re not. She’s been hooking up, too. I don’t want toosmoseher love life.”

“What about Kari?”

She shrugs. “I think she’s hooking up. She’s being all shady, but my super sleuth ways haven’t figured outwhoher man is yet. She’s not sharing. Then there’syouwith the guy with the ass. Everyone’s getting married.”

I snort. “I’m not getting married, so you can cool your damn jets.”

“Don’t say damn at school, Miss Brittany. That’s naughty.”

Pushing her aside with a laugh, I turn the corner and slam face first into a broad chest. Large hands grab my arms to steady me before I fall on my ass.

At first, I smile, because I think Jack’s here and my jealous friend will just have to deal. The man holding me up has big, sexy arms like Jack. The tendons stand out and the muscles bulge. He wears a leather jacket like Jack’s, with the sleeves rolled up.

But then common sense catches up when I realize it’s not him.

Without looking at his face, I know it’s not him. The tendons,bareof ink, stand out. Jack’s arms are covered in ink. The leather jacketlookslike Jack’s, but it doesn’t smell even close to how it should.

Looking up, I come eye to eye with a man that’s definitely not Jack.

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