Page 49 of Searching for Hope

I poke my tongue out as I walk backward, giving myself enough space for a run-up. Blood pumps through my veins forcefully. The wind whips my hair. I feel invincible. Fear prickles over my skin but it feels glorious. It feels as though I’m alive.

Michael gets to his feet. “Ev, you’re not serious.”

I start running.

“Ev!” Michael shouts my name as I go flying off the roof, my legs circling through the air until I bring them in tight, cutting into the water like a knife.

There are cheers and whistles when I rise to the surface. People holler and shout. I swim to the edge of the pool and heave myself out. I’m running my hands down my hair, getting rid of the excess water when I’m suddenly yanked off my feet and tossed over a shoulder.

chapter sixteen

BERKLEY

“Hey!” I exclaim as I’m turned upside down, facing a jean-clad butt. A butt that I’ve admired plenty of times before. A butt with cheeks I’d dug my nails into. “About time you arrived,” I grumble, my words coming out with a forced exhale each time I’m jostled.

“Don’t talk,” comes the growl back.

And I smile. Even though I’m tossed over his shoulder, forcibly getting removed from a party, I smile. Because he’s here. I knew if I got messy enough, he’d come running. Pathetic childish tactics. But hey, I’m drunk.

Shoved into the back of a vehicle, I scramble to right myself. Jericho gets in the other door, slamming it behind him. I don’t feel like looking at him because I know if I do, I won’t be able to control myself and I’ll launch myself at him. He looks so dreamy when he’s angry. The lines between his brows are deep and furrowed. There’s a tiny vein under his left eye which pulses. His jaw is locked tight. But rather than be fearful of his rage, it only makes me want him more. So I lean my head against the window, press my legs together and watch the world pass by while trying not to think about the way he’s glaring at me.

“Aren’t we going home?” I mumble when we approach his apartment.

“You’re drunk.”

“Ten points for you.” I reach across and boop his nose. He glares at me as though I just committed a crime. I grin. “Sorry.”

“This isn’t a joke, Berkley.”

The car pulls to a stop and before I know it Jericho is ripping my door open and pulling me outside. He doesn’t carry me this time, but he does drag me by the arm as I stumble behind him, attempting to keep up. As he pulls me through the foyer, I salute and wave to the staff, much to his annoyance. It isn’t until we’re inside his apartment, his one-bed apartment, that he lets me go.

“Wow,” I say, rubbing my arm. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” He opens the refrigerator and grabs a tiny bottle of whiskey that I momentarily get distracted by because it’s so cute. And then I get distracted by the bob of his Adam’s apple as he downs the liquid. “My problem is you.” He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth then tosses the bottle into the bin.

“Me?” I reel back in mock horror.

“What you did tonight was stupid and dangerous. You could have seriously got hurt. Thank goodness I sent Barrett to keep an eye on you.”

“That wasn’t your call to make.”

“It wasn’t? Then whose was it?” He grabs another bottle and downs it.

“Mine.” I shove my finger in my chest. “Mine,” I repeat, just in case he didn’t hear the first time.

“And look where that got you.”

“You can’t do this, Jericho Priest, this back and forth, this—” I point between us, “this whatever this is. You’re married, remember? Married. To a woman who’s missing. To a woman you swore to find.”

“I’m not talking to you about this right now.”

“Well, right now is when I want to talk about it.” My fists are clenched at my sides and I’m glaring at him.

His eyes flick over me, reminding me I’m wearing nothing but a bikini. “Go to bed,” he orders.

Crossing my arms, I cock my head to the side. “No.” I know I’m taunting him, but I want to see that delicious lick of fire flash over his eyes.

“Berkley, now is not the time to test me,” he growls.

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