Page 86 of Finding Hope

“Oscar.”

Nodding, I bury my face in the back of her neck. “That’s cool. Did you have a nice time?”

“Uh-huh. I even brought you cake.”

“Yeah?” Smiling, I close my eyes and breathe her in. “Where is it?”

“I ate it,” she snickers. “I needed the extra energy for climbing gates and houses.”

“That’s alright,” I laugh. “I probably shouldn’t eat cake, anyway. I’m on a diet.”

Turning in my arms, she stops with her nose barely half an inch from mine, and a deep frown puckering her face.

I can literally taste the chocolate on her breath.

“Why shouldn’t you eat cake? You work outwaytoo much not to enjoy a little sugar. I guarantee you work out more than me, and I ate yoursandmine.”

Running my eyes along her narrow body – slim hips, tight belly, muscular thighs – her claim that she never works out doesn’t ring true. “I have a fight coming up. Kit makes me eat proper protein and shit.”

“Are you ever scared when fighting?”

“Nah.” I bring my thumb up to stroke the bridge of her nose. “I’ve never been scared. It’s a rush. It’s a hell of a lot of fun.”

“Never?Not even when the other guy has teardrop tattoos and looks like he’s going to kill you?”

I laugh. “I’ve never actually fought a guy with face tats.” I pause. “Well, there was the one guy, but no teardrops. And he was actually really cool. We had a beer a few days after the fight.”

She shakes her head with disbelief. “You beat on each other, then you’re buddies. I swear, as soon as anyone stood toe to toe with me, I’d run so damn fast. I’d push grannies down if it helped. No shame.”

I laugh. “I bet that’s not true.”

“You think so?” She pushes her nose back up until my thumb restarts the long, gentle stroke that has her eyes fluttering shut. “My makeup is like war paint. It makes me feel badass, but inside, I’m actually a big ol’ wuss.”

“I bet you’d fight anyone who threatened your family.”

“Yeah,” she smiles. “I would. And guys that kick me into the street in the middle of the night and call me a whore.”

Dropping my head in shame, I close my eyes and rest my forehead against hers. “I’m so fucking sorry about that. You have no clue how sorry I am about that.”

“Hey.” Giggling, she pulls my hand away from her face. “I’m kidding. Seriously. I’m just messing with you. You seriously need to relax. We all make mistakes.”

Lying in the silence, I study her electric blue eyes and taste the cake that was supposed to be mine. She said she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, but I find my hand squeezing her hip, anyway. She wasn’t looking for anything more than a hangout, but my lips tingle to taste hers.

I caught the feels for this chick. Like a hurricane that hit land, I caught the feels so damn hard it makes my stomach flutter.

I’m disgusted with myself, but it feels so good, I don’t even care.

Before I get the chance to ask what she’s thinking, she mirrors my moves and brings her hand up to stroke a thumb along the calcified bone on the bridge of my nose. “What happened here?”

My fingers play with the hem of her top. “Broken nose.”

“How?”

“Which time?”

Tucking her legs between mine, she moves closer and watches me with wide eyes. “How many times?”

I laugh. “I don’t even know anymore. A few.”

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