Page 39 of Give Me Love

We do so, and I go in for a goodbye hug, breathing in his fresh shower scent. His arm tightens around my back, and his face goes in my hair. I feel things that I shouldn’t hugging a friend, but it doesn’t last long enough. He clears his throat and steps back.

His touch brings me an odd sense of comfort, and I feel bummed that it’s gone.

He looks uneasy now, and I’m not sure what to make of it. “I’ll call you,” he says.

I step into the apartment. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He winks before he turns, and I notice he goes for the stairs like Claire did. I shut the door and lean against it, trying to process everything that was said and not said. I have no idea if he’ll ever call me, but one thing’s for sure—I hope he does.

ChapterSeven

Bryce

My feet echo in the stairwell as I quickly hit each step, wondering what the hell is wrong with me. What the fuck made me reach across her and try to put her seat belt on last night?“You’re your father’s son.”Jace’s words ring in my head as images of my father doing that to my mom flash in my mind and make me cringe.

Jesus.

And then she falls asleep in my car and I just take her up to my apartment?“Why didn’t you just wake me?”

Well, I’m not sure, Kat. For some weird unknown reason, I wanted you at my place.I wanted to wake her and fuck her crazy. That long hair and sexy goddamn smirk she has. I wish I’d never met her.

No, you don’t.

I groan as I hit the bottom step and walk to the door, pushing it open. Exiting the lobby, I make my way to my car and once inside I press the clutch. The engine roars to life when I turn the key and I sit back after turning the AC on blast.

The summer sun shines bright and I grabmy sunglasses, thinking back on her asking to wear them. I smirk and slide them on. This girl is something else. She’s a smartass, beautiful, and unlike anyone I’ve ever met. She’s got my mind thrown.

I think back to Monnie’s surprised face. I’ve never taken anyone there before. I shake my head. I can’t do this. I can’t do relationships.

Friends, Bryce. She saidjust friends.

I nod and run a hand over my shadow of a beard. I don’t have friends, but I’ll be the best fucking friend she’s ever had.

ChapterEight

Kathrine

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but with your credit, there’s no way we can give you the loan.” The lady in front of me is too big for the chair she occupies and has judgment in her voice.

I argue, “But I have a great down payment. I’m not even asking for more than I have already.”

“We understand that, Ms. Harrison, but your credit score is just too low, and you have all these student loans on your record.” She moves the small fan on her desk so it blows directly on her. “And not to mention all of these credit card bills.”

“I’m paying them off.”

“We can see the progress you’ve made,” she says, flipping through the papers in front of her. She shakes her head. “But it’s just not good enough. You need to get rid of at least three of these completely and work on your score.” She shrugs. “There’s just nothing we can do right now. Work on these and then come back to us.”

I sigh in frustration before standing and grabbing my paperwork. Thunder roars when I open the bank doors, and then the bottom falls out.

“Great,” I mumble. I walked here. No umbrella and there wasn’t a damn cloud in sight. I scrub down my face. Claire had that interview today, and she’s got my car. My phone is dead, and this is the fifth bank I’ve tried so I’m not close to work. Guess I’m getting wet.

I put the folder over my head, trying to shield some of the rain, but failing. I walk fast, getting under building ledges and apartment awnings as much as possible. I’m drenched and pissed and annoyed and disappointed.

My Converse squeak with every step, and I feel my socks getting wet. Once again, my stupid father has made his mark on my life. My parents instilled in me the mindset that no one wants me. My mom left when I was only a kid. I woke one day and she was gone, leaving me with an abusive father in a run-down piece of shit house.

Even after being away from him for nine years, he still somehow manages to mess up my life. I see a car slow beside me in my peripheral, and I turn to look at the ’69 beauty.

“Get in,” Bryce says, leaning over the seat.

---