“Hope!”
She looked down at him, her dark eyes squinting as she tried to focus.
“N-Newman?”
He was pulled away, and got into it with another guy. Turning back seconds later, he lunged for Hope’s backpack and slung it over his shoulder. Taking one of her hands in his, he tugged her down until she fell over his shoulder, then made a run for the door. Someone barred his way, so he swung out with his foot and sent the man stumbling backward. He’d thank Katie McBride for that move when he saw her.
Noise erupted behind him, but he didn’t stop to look. Reaching the door, he threw it open and ran out into the night air, heading left. He kept moving at pace, with Hope jostling up and down on his shoulder. He only stopped when he was a safe distance from the bar, raising a hand as a cab cruised past. He opened the door after it had stopped, and lowered Hope into it.
“She pukes, you pay to have it cleaned.”
“Sure, whatever.” Newman got in beside Hope.
“Wuss ya doing?” she slurred.
“Taking you home. Where are you staying?”
“What?”
“Where are you staying?”
She frowned. “Ah, nnnot sure.”
Newman gave the driver directions to his hotel.
“I-I know you.”
Hope grabbed a handful of his shirt, and with a surprisingly firm grip, hauled him closer. She then squinted as she tried to focus in on him. Her eyes crossed.
“P-paul, Pr-pretty Boy Newman.”
“We’ve talked about you calling me pretty boy, Hope. Remember what happens? I counter with Hope Loco Lawrence, and you get all bent out of shape.”
He eased her back as she nearly tumbled into his lap.
“Ssshe sent you to fffind me.”
“Who?”
“My m-mother.”
“Your mother has no idea I’m even here, Hope. In fact, I had no idea you were here until I walked into that bar and heard you screeching, and saw you giving those patrons an eyeful.”
She slapped a hand on her chest. “I-I can sssing.”
“No, honey, you can’t. However, you can dance, which is a hell of a surprise to me. But it’ll take weeks for that bar to get its patrons back after your little vocal performance.”
She blinked again, then leaned forward. Newman braced a hand on her shoulder as she peered at him.
“Y-you’re wwway too good looking.”
A flash of street lights allowed him to see her golden skin and lovely dark-chocolate-brown eyes. As Newman studied her he realized that Hope Lawrence had grown into an attractive woman.
For years they had verbally sparred, each giving as good as they got, but there had always been something about her that unsettled him. Like his shoes were laced up too tight when she was around. Hope would give him a certain look and he’d feel exposed, almost as if she could see what others couldn’t. The dark, vulnerable places inside him that he kept hidden. He hoped not; that was some heavy shit.
The soft arch of her brows framed those amazing eyes. The curves and angles of her face were the same, but refined. To his surprise, she was now one beautiful woman, or maybe she always had been, and he’d never taken the time to notice because she’d annoyed him so much. Hope had worn baggy clothes and tried to blend silently into the scenery. Unless he was around, then she’d snarl and snap. She’d made no waves, studied hard, and didn’t speak unless absolutely necessary. In fact, she’d been the ideal child as far as he could tell. He wondered if when she sobered up that would still be the case.
“Thanks… I think.”
