Losing Hope (Hopeless #2)(21)

“Who did this to you? Your eye wasn’t like this earlier.”

She backs away from my grasp. “It was an accident. Never interrupt a teenage girl’s nap.” She tries to laugh it off, but I know better. I’ve seen enough unexplained bruises on Les in the past to know that girls can hide this kind of shit better than anyone wants to admit.

I run my thumb over her bruise, calming the anger coursing through me. “You would tell someone, right? If someone did this to you?”

She just stares up at me. No response. No, “Yes, of course I would tell.” Not even a, “Maybe.” Her lack of acknowledgment takes me right back to these situations with Les. She never admitted to Grayson physically hurting her, but the bruises I saw on her arm the week before I made him break up with her almost ended in murder. If I find out he’s the one who did this to Sky, he’ll no longer have a hand left to lay on her.

“I’m running with you,” I say. I place my hands firmly on her shoulders and turn her around without giving her the opportunity to object.

She doesn’t even try to object, though. She begins running, so I fall into a steady stride with her. I’m fuming the entire run back to the house. Pissed that I never got to the bottom of what happened with Les and pissed that Sky might be dealing with the same shit.

We don’t speak the entire run back to her house until she turns and waves good-bye at the edge of her driveway. “I guess I’ll see you later?” she says, walking backward toward her house.

“Absolutely,” I say, knowing full well I’ll be seeing her again. Especially now that I know where she lives.

She smiles and turns toward her house and it isn’t until she’s halfway up her driveway that I realize I don’t even have a way to contact her. She doesn’t have a Facebook, so I can’t contact her that way. I don’t know her phone number. I can’t really just show up at her house unannounced.

I don’t want her to walk away until I know for sure I’ll talk to her again.

I immediately twist the lid off my water bottle and pour the contents of it onto the grass. I put the lid back on it.

“Sky, wait,” I yell. She pauses and turns back around. “Do me a favor?”

“Yeah?”

I toss her the conveniently empty bottle of water. She catches it, then nods and runs inside to refill it. I pull my cell phone from my pocket and immediately text Daniel.

Sky Davis. Girl Grayson was talking about Saturday night? Does she have a boyfriend?

Sky opens her front door and begins to make her way back outside when he responds.

She has several from what I hear.

I’m still staring at the text when she reaches me with the water. I take it from her and down a drink, not sure why it’s hard for me to find truth in Daniel’s text. As much as she’s still an enigma to me, I can tell by the way she’s so guarded that she doesn’t let people in that easily. Based on my interaction with her, she just doesn’t fit the description that’s being painted of her by everyone else.

I put the lid back on the water bottle and do my best to keep my eyes focused on hers, but dammit if that sports bra isn’t a magnet right now. “Do you run track?” I ask her, attempting to stay focused.

She covers her stomach with her arms and her movement makes me want to punch myself for being so obvious about checking her out. The last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable.

“No,” she says. “I’m thinking about trying out, though.”

“You should. You’re barely out of breath and you just ran close to five miles. Are you a senior?”

She smiles. That’s twice she’s smiled at me like that, and it’s really beginning to mess with my head.

“Shouldn’t you already know if I’m a senior?” she says, still grinning. “You’re slacking on your stalking skills.”

I laugh. “Well, you make it sort of difficult to stalk you. I couldn’t even find you on Facebook.”

She smiles again. I hate that I’m keeping count. Three.

“I’m not on Facebook,” she says. “I don’t have internet access.”

I can’t tell if she’s lying to let me off easily, or if she’s actually being honest about not having internet access. I don’t know which one is harder to believe. “What about your phone? You can’t get internet on your phone?”

She lifts her arms to tighten her ponytail and I feel like I’m the one out of breath right now. “No phone. My mother isn’t a fan of modern technology. No TV, either.”

I wait for her to laugh, but it’s obvious in just a few short seconds that she’s completely serious. This isn’t good. How the hell am I supposed to get in touch with her? Not that I need to. I just have a pretty good feeling I’ll want to. “Shit.” I laugh. “You’re serious? What do you do for fun?”

She shrugs. “I run.”

Yes, she certainly does. And if I have anything to do with it, she won’t be running alone, anymore.

“Well in that case,” I say, leaning toward her, “you wouldn’t happen to know what time a certain someone gets up for her morning runs, would you?”

She sucks in a quick breath, then attempts to control it with a smile. Three and a half.

“I don’t know if you’d want to get up that early,” she says.