Page 149 of Finding Hope

“I won’t.” He smacks his lips and has me looking up. I didn’t know he talked in his sleep.

Leaning back, I grin and watch his twitching eyes. “Are you awake yet?”

“I promise…”What does he pr–“I love you, Stephy.”

Instant revulsion scores through my blood and drains from my face as my stomach threatens to revolt and blow all over his room.

Shooting back from him like he kicked me, I scramble backwards and fall over my feet and the tangled blankets in my hurry to escape.

“Bambie?”

Freezing, my eyes snap to his.

Awake.

Finally awake.

His eyes are like molten lava, hot and dancing, and his smile is mischievous and happy. He has no clue he was just declaring his love for someone else.

The sheets sit at his waist – thank God – and covers his bottom half.

Bending over to collect my things, I clumsily tug a cotton tank over my head and catch my earring with the fabric.

“Hey. Where are you going?” Smiling, he throws his legs over the edge of the mattress and beckons me with a wolfish smile. “Come back to bed, Bambie. It’s still early, and I missed the fuck outta you.”

My throat closes up, blocking my air, fortunately blocking the vomit that wants to explode at the thought of Jack mentioning Steph while I had my mouth wrapped around his dick.

“I have to go.”

Frowning, he stands and lets the sheet fall away from his strong body.

He’s been working extra hard for his upcoming fight. His body is more toned today than it was when we met, his muscles larger, his chest broader. He looks fucking incredible, but I simply want to spew everywhere.

“But I just got here, Bambie. I thought we could take the day off together.”

Maybe he should take the day to sit with Steph.“I can’t, sorry. I have to work.”

“It’s Saturday.”

“I have to grade papers.” I spin and pull on my pants. “I have to write up report cards.” I grab my shoes from beside Annie’s curious face. Wedon’twrite report cards this early in the semester. “And Alex wants me home today for… stuff.”

His eyes narrow. “You’re going to hang out with your brother instead of me?”

“Sorry.” I pull my shoes on, fast – too fast – and stumble.

“But I’ve been waiting to see you all week,” he pleads.

He steps toward me, still naked, and takes my hands in his. I can smell him, masculine and sexy with a side of musky sweat. His pecs sit in front of my face, teasing me, tempting me.

I so desperately want to kiss his chest. I want to go back ten minutes, and I want him tonotsay her name.

“I’m sorry we got in late last night, Bambie. It wasn’t my fault. I would’ve flown the plane myself if I knew how. I would’ve run here if I could.”

I step back to give myself space, and when his face falls, when his eyes turn sad, I look away.

His pain is my pain.

“I’m sorry, I’ll text you.”

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