Losing Hope (Hopeless #2)(35)

My heart is pounding against my chest and if I don’t back away from her right now I’ll do something to those lips of hers that will for sure end up with me getting slapped.

Or kissed back.

The thought is tempting, but I don’t risk it. I let go of her arms and wipe my thumb across the end of her nose. “Flour. It’s been bugging me,” I say. I back away and rest my back against her headboard.

She doesn’t move. She’s breathing heavily and staring up at the ceiling. I’m not sure what she’s thinking, but she’s not trying to kick me out of her room anymore, so that’s good.

“I didn’t know he was g*y,” I say.

She turns her head in my direction and she’s still flat on her back. She doesn’t say anything, so I use the opportunity to explain in more detail while I’ve got her full attention.

“I beat him up because he was an ass**le. I had no idea he was g*y.”

She eyes me, expressionless, then slowly turns her head back toward the ceiling. I give her a moment to ponder what I just said. She’ll either believe me and feel guilty or she won’t believe me and she’ll still be pissed. Either way, I don’t want her to feel guilty or pissed. But we’re not left with any other choices of emotions in this situation.

I remain quiet, wanting her to respond to me with something, at least.

A sound comes from the kitchen and it actually resembles an oven timer rather than her phone. “Cake!” she yells. She’s off the bed and out the bedroom door and I find myself alone in her room on her bed. I close my eyes and lean my head against the headboard.

I want her to believe me. I want her to trust me and I want her to know the truth about my past. There’s something about her that tells me she’s not like all the other people I’ve encountered who disappoint me. I just hope I’m not wrong about her, because I like being around her. She actually makes me feel like I have a purpose. I haven’t felt like I had a purpose in over thirteen months.

I glance up when she walks back into the room and she smiles sheepishly. She has a cookie in her mouth and another in her hand. She holds it out to me and drops down next to me on the bed. Her head lands against her pillow and she sighs.

“I guess the g*y-bashing ass**le remark was really judgmental on my part then, huh? You aren’t really an ignorant homophobe who spent the last year in juvenile detention?”

Mission accomplished.

And it was so much easier than I thought it would be.

I smile and scoot down until I’m flat on the bed next to her. “Nope,” I say, looking up at the stars plastered across her ceiling. “Not at all. I spent the entire last year living with my father in Austin. I don’t even know where the story about me being sent to juvi came into the picture.”

“Why don’t you defend yourself against the rumors if they aren’t true?”

What an odd question, coming from someone who hasn’t defended herself at all this entire week. I glance in her direction. “Why don’t you?”

She quietly nods. “Touché.”

We both look back up to her ceiling. I like that she was so easy to come around. I like that she didn’t argue about it, especially knowing how stubborn she is.

I like that I was right about her.

“The window comment from earlier?” she says. “You were just making a point about rumors? You really weren’t trying to be mean?”

I hate that she actually thought I was just being cruel, even if it was only for a minute. I don’t want her to ever think that about me. “I’m not mean, Sky.”

“You’re intense. I’m right about that, at least.”

“I may be intense, but I’m not mean.”

“Well, I’m not a slut.”

“I’m not a g*y-bashing ass**le.”

“So we’re all clear?”

I laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

It’s quiet for another moment until she inhales a long, deep breath. “I’m sorry, Holder.”

“I know, Sky,” I say. I didn’t come here for an apology. I don’t want her to feel guilty about her misconception. “I know.”

She doesn’t say anything else and we both continue to look up at the stars. I’m conflicted right now because we’re both on her bed and as much as I try to ignore my attraction for her, it’s sort of hard when I’m inches from her.

I’m curious if she finds me attractive at all. I’m almost positive she does based on the tiny things she does when I’m around her that she tries to hide. Like the times I’ve caught her staring at my chest when I ran with her. Or the way she sucks in a breath when I lean in to speak to her. Or how she always seems to be struggling not to smile when she’s trying so hard to be mad at me.

I’m not positive what she thinks about me or how she feels, but I know one thing . . . she definitely doesn’t act indifferent toward me like she does toward Grayson.

Thinking about that incident and how just a few hours ago she was kissing him makes me grimace. It may not be appropriate to ask her about it, but I sure as hell can’t stop thinking about how much I hate the thought of her kissing anyone, especially Grayson. And if there’s ever a chance that I’ll be the one kissing her, I need to know that she won’t be kissing him again.