Page 59 of Holding Hope

I wanted to stop wanting someone I couldn’t have.

So why wasn’t it working?

Why was my body saying no when my mind was begging for yes?

“Come on,” Schuyler moaned against my lips. “Kiss me, Avalon.”

She sat back, fingers trailing over my collarbone, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Why won’t you kiss me?”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know. I’m trying, but… something feels off.”

Her pout vanished, replaced by irritation. “What? Are you trying to convince yourself to make out with me? Am I not pretty enough?”

I shook my head quickly. “No, it’s not you⁠—”

“Classic L.A. lesbians,” she muttered. “Let me guess—it’s not me, it’s you?”

With a huff, she slid off my legs and stepped back.

I sat up, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor. “I’m sorry. Really. I thought if I did this, I’d stop thinking about her⁠—”

“Save it,” she cut in, pulling out a compact mirror to fix her hair and lipstick. “I don’t need your woes. You won’t kiss me—that’s all I need to know.”

Relief washed through me—I’d been two seconds from oversharing.

Schuyler left without another word, no doubt ready to tell her friends a wildly exaggerated version of this.

I pressed my forehead into my palms.

Clarke’s image replayed over and over—her standing in the low light, someone else’s lipstick on her mouth.

Who had it been?

With a shaky breath, I stood and made my way toward the door. I’d given Schuyler a few minutes to leave before slipping out—the last thing I needed was to look suspicious.

Rorie’s was still packed when I stepped back into the main room. Bodies pressed together, music thumping, lights flashing. I scanned the crowd for a familiar face—Ethan, Colton, anyone.

Spotting a tall blond in a white cowboy hat, I exhaled in relief. “Ethan!” I called, weaving through the crowd.

“Avalon, hey,” he said, meeting me halfway. “I was about to come looking for you. Annie had to leave—something she drank didn’t sit right. Colt and Lia took her home, but she insisted I stay to make sure you got back safely.”

Nausea twisted my stomach. Annie? She’d only had water and Coke all night. Was she okay?

I swallowed the rising bile and nodded. “Okay. I’m ready to get out of here.”

We headed toward the exit. Several girls shot glares our way—nothing new—but one girl in particular made me pause. Long dark hair. Round, bug-like eyes. A glare sharp enough to slice through bone.

The closer we got, the more familiar she looked. And then it hit me.

She was the girl who’d had that tense, heated moment with Clarke earlier—the one whose presence had made Clarke’s entire body go rigid.

“Ethan,” she cooed, sliding between us and shoving me aside with her shoulder.

What the fuck?

I stopped dead, staring at her. Ethan blinked slowly, shaking his head—a silent warning not to do whatever I was about to do. I didn’t even know what that was.

“I see Clarke finally left you alone,” the girl purred, biting her lip as she touched his arm. “Lucky me. How have you been? I’ve hardly seen you all year.”