A Season for Hope (Sarra Cannon) by Sarra Cannon Read Free Book Online Page A

just got home?”
    She shrugs and tries to hide her smile.
    “You slut,” I joke.
    “Hey, you’re one to talk,” she says. “I saw you kissing him. Who was that guy? He was freaking h.o.t.”
    I sink deeper, pulling my legs up to my chest. “His name is Judd,” I say. “He’s a med student who comes into The Cup sometimes.”
    She gives me a sideways look. “Why haven’t you mentioned him before?”
    “I honestly barely noticed him before.”
    “How is that even possible?” she asks. “If that guy walked into Amerigo’s, I would make a beeline for that table and spend the whole night at his beck and call.”
    I roll my eyes, wishing I had an extra pillow to throw at her.
    “Well, I ruined it, so it doesn’t matter anyway.”
    “What do you mean? He seemed very into you the last time I saw you guys. I assumed you left together,” she says.
    “We sort of did,” I say. “But I was such an idiot, Mon. I mean, we were having an awesome time and then we started dancing together. I thought there was something there between us. I had way too much to drink, I guess, because I pretty much threw myself at him.”
    “I don’t think he minded,” she says with a giggle.
    “I didn’t either, at first. But then I asked him to take me home.” I cringe as the words leave my mouth. I’ve never done anything like that in my life, and I have no idea why I chose last night to start.
    “And?”
    “And what? He said no,” I say with a shrug. “End of story.”
    “Wait, you guys spend hours talking at the bar, you kiss like crazy on the dance floor, and then he tells you that no, he isn’t interested in taking you home and ravaging your body? Okay, so he’s crazy.”
    “No, I’m stupid,” I say. “He was probably just being nice to me after hitting me in the face with a door and—”
    “Whoa, wait a second,” she says, holding up her hand. “He’s the one who hit you with the door?”
    “Yes,” I say, lifting my hand to the sore spot above my eye. It’s still tender and I suck in a breath. “Classy, huh?”
    “It’s cute,” she says. “Not the cut, but the story. So he comes into your cafe to study and hang out sometimes and then he just happens to hit you with a door? And then somehow, he also just happens to be at the same club we were last night? It sounds like fate to me.”
    “Shut up,” I say, not wanting to tell her how close she is to being right. “It’s not fate. It’s…I don’t know. Coincidence. A very embarrassing coincidence. I’m sure next time he sees me, he’ll run the other way.”
    She reaches out and squeezes my foot. “Don’t say that,” she says. “Besides, maybe he was just trying to be a gentleman. Maybe he doesn’t put out on the first date.”
    I can’t help but smile. Monica always knows how to make me feel better, but I think this situation is kind of hopeless. “What guy says no to a drunk girl who is throwing herself at him?”
    She stares at me, her mouth slightly open.
    “See? No one,” I say. “The only guy that says no is a guy who either isn’t interested or who, I don’t know, is saving himself for marriage or something. And he doesn’t strike me as the type.”
    “What about the kiss?” she asks. “Did he kiss you? Or did you kiss him?”
    I close my eyes and absently touch my lips. “I kissed him,” I say. “But he kissed me back. He was into it. Or at least I thought he was. There’s no way I imagined that. There was something there between us. What if I’ve been out of the game so long, I just imagined that he was into it? What if he was just being nice?”
    “Kissing you passionately just to be nice? I don’t think so.”
    I laugh. “Yeah, maybe not,” I say. I take a few more sips of the coffee, my headache easing up. “I don’t know, then. Maybe he’s dating someone else. Or maybe he’s just not really that into me and didn’t want to take it any further than a fun night at the club.”
    Even as I say it, though, I