“Stop looking at me like that or there’ll be no dinner.”

I smirk behind my Twizzler and scoot off the counter, slipping my hand inside his shirt, and running my fingertips over the patch of dark hair on his lower abdomen. He sucks in a breath and sets the knife down.

“Come here,” he demands as I try to slither away.

He sticks a finger into my back pocket and drags me back, winding his arms around me. “Two days. Two days and then your ass is mine.” I shiver at his words. He smacks a kiss behind my ear and slaps my thigh lightly.

“I can make it two days, but I’m not so sure about you,” I inform him as I pick up our mess from yesterday. I don’t want Gabbie to have any extra ammo. I hang up our jackets and scoop up the mail and toss it on the counter.

“What’s this?” Mason asks, picking up one of the envelopes. He flips it so I can see the front. My breath catches. I feel my eyes widen and I pluck it from his fingers.

“Oh, sweet Buddha.” I slam it down and stare at it.

“Hope? What is this?”

“Our future,” I whisper.

He moves behind me. Warm arms envelope me, his chest pressing into my back. I feel his breath in my hair. “Vandercook is in Chicago,” he says quietly.

I nod.

“You applied?”

I nod again, words refusing to move through my lips.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

I sigh and turn in his arms. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It is,” he replies hoarsely. “Open it.”

Shit. I turn back and glare at it, just sitting there. That little bit of paper has the potential to really crush me. It’s not like it’s my only option, but it’s the one I want most.

For Mason. For me. For us.

I pick it up and run my fingers over it. Shaking my head, I hold it up. “I can’t. You open it.”

He takes it slowly and raises his brows. “You sure?”

“Uh-huh. Just do it.”

I close my eyes as I hear paper ripping. And I wait.

“Hope,” Mason breathes and I know. I know before his next sentence. I open my eyes and am greeted with his dimpled smile.

“You got in,” he shouts.

I jump into his waiting arms and nearly choke him with my hug. “I got in?”

“We’re going to Illinois.”

He pulls back and holds my face in his hands, his thumbs running over my cheeks. “Jesus, Hope. I love you. I can’t believe you did this.”

I push up on my toes and kiss him. I’d do pretty much anything to make him happy. The knock at the door ends our moment much too quickly, but I don’t care at all. Because now I can tell Gabbie her son’s coming home.

Mason and I can’t hide our grins and Gabbie calls us on it immediately. We blurt out the news at the same time and she encloses us—both of us—in a suffocating embrace.

I look at Kel over her tiny shoulder, his face a mix of emotions. “You’re both moving to Illinois?”

I nod slowly and his eyes drift to Mason. I can’t read the expression on his face, but as his gaze slides back to land on me, I know he isn’t thrilled I’m part of the package.

Mason must realize this too, but he doesn’t make mention of it. Instead, he claps his hands together loudly and grins. “Who’s hungry?”

11

Mason

“I can’t believe you guys are freaking moving to another state,” Chase says. His eyes rake across the apartment and he heaves himself onto the couch. “I blame you for this.”

I smile. Yeah. I know. They all do. And they’re right, but Hope’s determined to go. She’s been happier than I’ve ever seen her. “It’s not that far,” I offer.

He glares at me and tilts his chin to his chest. “Anybody tell Park yet?”

“I have no clue.” I know I haven’t told him, even though I kind of want to. It’s hard to get along with your girlfriend’s ex—especially when the ex does everything in his power to keep himself wedged in her life. The only one who doesn’t seem to understand that he’s waiting for her to come back is Hope. I’d love to be the one to explain to him that it’s never going to happen.

Annie sits beside Chase and rubs her hand through his purple dyed hair. “Awe, Chase. It’s all right. You’ll still have me.”

Chase rolls his eyes and shifts away from her. “I feel bad enough. You don’t need to make it worse.”

Annie crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head. “You’re such an ass.”

“No. I’m honest.” He fixes his usually messy hair, pushing it down the opposite way Annie had rumpled it. “You just can’t handle my brutal honesty because I don’t roll it in sugar for you first.”

“Stop fighting,” Hope says as she comes in the door. Her hands are full of bags and I take them from her.

“What’s all this?”

“Stuff I’ll need for my campus housing,” she huffs. “Jenny went a little nuts.”

I still, and release the bags, dropping them on the floor. Fuck that. I don’t want any part of that shit. I hate she’ll be living in a dorm. We’ll be living separately after all. I try not to think about it.

Sensing exactly what I’m thinking, Hope wraps her slender arms around my waist. “It’s nine months. We can handle nine months. You act like we’ll be living across the country from each other. We’ll be literally minutes away.”

“It’s not the same,” I sigh.

“Oh, boo freaking hoo,” Chase hisses. “At least you’ll have each other. I’m stuck here with this.” He shakes Annie’s arm and she scowls at him.

“Hey,” Hope says, her hands on her hips. “You get to keep Park and Guy, so I don’t want to hear it.”

“Yay. I get Broody and Sir Mopes A Lot.”

“And don’t forget Princess Bitch,” Hope adds.

“Okay, if that’s me, I’m seriously going to get pissed,” Annie seethes. She flips her blond hair off her shoulder and sits up straighter. “It is, isn’t it?”

I chuckle because it totally is. Hope presses her lips together and Chase makes a show of whistling dramatically as he looks around.

“Fuck you guys. I’m going home.”

“Oh, Annie…no…don’t go,” Chase says flatly. She shoots her middle finger up, holding it close to his face.

“I know I’m number one. Quit flirting with me.” Chase chuckles at his own joke and she stands up, purposely stepping on his flip flop clad feet. He winces and she grins widely at him.

“Oops. Sorry.”

“Man. I’m so going to miss this,” Hope says.

“She means me,” Chase tells Annie as he pushes her away from him.

Hell. It hits me suddenly that I’m going to miss all this too. These are the first real friends I’ve made in years and I’m going to be leaving them behind at the end of summer. I look at Hope. I don’t know how she can lose all this. For me. It’s mindboggling she finds me worth it. I’ll be gaining Mom and Kellin, but Hope—her whole life is here. All her friends. All her family.

I press a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling her scent. Does it make me a selfish bastard to let her do this? I don’t know.

I just don’t know.

**********

“What’s up?” Guy says when he opens the door. He steps back so I can come inside and I follow him to the kitchen. He takes a bottle of water out of the fridge and tosses it to me.

“I need to ask you a question and I want you to be honest with me,” I say.

He quirks a brow and nods. “Okay.”

“Should I talk Hope out of going to Chicago?”

Guy’s eyes meet mine, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s eerily quiet as we stare at one another and I can’t figure out what he’s thinking because about fifty different emotions pass over his features.

Finally he sighs and leans back against the counter. “You think you can stop her?”

“I don’t know,” I say slowly. “You know how she gets.”

Guy chuckles. “Freaking annoyingly stubborn. I know.” He crosses his feet at the ankles and runs his hand over his mouth. “I don’t want her to go, but I’d never ask her to stay.”

“Why not?”

“Because what if she did? I don’t want to be the reason she’s unhappy. This way, if she ends up miserable, it’ll be your fault.” He grins at me. I groan, knowing he’s right.

“Shit.”

“Yep.”

My eyes drop to the floor, the black and white tiles blurring. I fist my hands, and take a deep breath. I don’t know what to do.

“She really wants to go,” he offers. “She’s excited about the school. It’s step one into that art therapy she wants to get into.” His brows furrow as he looks at me. “She said it was your idea.”

I scratch my neck and nod. “Yeah, I mentioned something about it before, but she never said anything else about it until she got the acceptance letter.”

“Well she’s hell bent on it now. I don’t think you could stop her if you tried. It may have started out as a way to get you back to Illinois, but it turned into more for her. She wants this. Just be happy and she’ll be happy.”

We’re connected like that, Hope and I. It’s like there’s some kind of direct link from her happiness to mine, and vice versa. I’ve spent so much time trying to make sure she was content. I don’t know how to step back and let her do it for me.

I want to go home. I want to be close to Mom and Kellin, but honestly, I’d live in a fucking box in a wasteland with Hope and be content. I just hope the same is true for her.

12

Hope

This should feel awkward, but I’ve pulled into this driveway so many times, it’s second nature at this point. I turn off the ignition and take a slow, deep breath, filling my lungs. I have no idea what to expect as I head to the front door. I ring the bell and scuff the toe of my shoe across the crooked wooden step as I wait. I’d like to think I’m sweating because it’s unreasonable hot for August, but I know it has more to do with nerves.

Mrs. Reed opens the door and offers me a small smile. “Hi Hope. He’s in the basement.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

She nods and shuffles over to the couch, lighting a cigarette as she runs callused fingers through her graying hair.

I stop and glance around, taking in the pictures of Park over the years. I touch one absentmindedly. Inhaling the scent of lemon cleaner mixed with cigarette smoke that is so familiar, I’m hit with a shocking sense of nostalgia.

And I know I’m going to miss him.

Park was my go-to when I wanted to escape. He held onto my secrets for a long time and helped me forget who I was for awhile. Now he’s almost a stranger.

So much change.

I exhale softly and open the door leading into the basement where Park’s room is located. The cool air hits me immediately and the sticky stench of pot smoke is evident. I flip the switch at the top of the steps so I can see to make my way down.

Park doesn’t look surprised to see me, lying back on his bed, elbow behind his head, a joint between his lips.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he quips. His lips curve under the joint and he sits up, dropping his bare feet to the cool cement floor.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” I say. “Just wanted to come see you before I go.”

He tosses the joint into an ashtray and blows out a long puff of smoke. Coughing, he stands up and crosses his arms over his chest. “You wanted to see me.” He licks his bottom lip slowly as his eyes rake over me.




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