A Season for Hope (Sarra Cannon) by Sarra Cannon Page A

or pretension. Well, except when I cause the drama. When we’re together, we can be honest and silly and fun. I don’t even know what kind of friends he has. I wouldn’t know how to act.”
    Monica sits up straighter in her chair. “Well, doesn’t it make sense that if you can be yourself around Judd that you could probably just be yourself around his friends? I mean, he likes you for who you are. You don’t have to impress his friends to get him to approve of you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
    The tears begin to fall again, and I swipe at them, then grab my plate and take it into the kitchen. I throw half of my cookie into the trash, my appetite completely gone.
    Monica follows close behind me. “Bailey, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” she says. She throws her arms around me and I hug her back, not even sure why I’m crying. “If you aren’t ready to meet his friends, you just aren’t.”
    “Thanks,” I say, but deep down, I know I’m being stupid and irrational.
    I think about my phone in the other room and wonder if Judd has tried to call again. I wonder what I’d say to him even if he is still willing to talk to me.
    I pull away from my friend and snag a clean napkin from the counter. I wipe my eyes and blow my nose.
    “Better?” she asks.
    I nod and am about to suggest we head out to the library to study when someone knocks on the door.
    Monica eyes me, one eyebrow raised. “Are you expecting someone?” she asks.
    I shake my head, my hands trembling slightly. “You don’t think he’d come all the way over here, do you?”
    She lifts her palms. “I have no clue. You’re the one who knows the guy. Would he?”
    “Maybe,” I say. My heart is racing. “You answer it.”
    I’m such a coward.
    I hide in the kitchen while Monica walks to the door. I lean my head against the cool wallpaper and wait, unsure if I want it to be him or not.
    Then I hear his voice and I know. I wanted it to be him all along.
    Chapter Nineteen
     
    “Is Bailey here?”
    I can’t tell if he sounds angry or just anxious.
    I look at the clock. It can’t have been more than fifteen minutes since he called. Did he seriously just get in his car and come over here because I wouldn’t answer the phone?
    “Ummm…” Monica stalls like a good friend, probably waiting to see if I want him to know I’m here or not.
    Nervous, I step around the corner. “I’m here,” I say softly.
    His eyes seek mine. It’s possible he’s a little bit angry. His face is tense and he definitely does not look happy.
    I feel like a child who has suddenly been caught doing something bad.
    “Can I talk to you for a second?” he asks.
    Monica turns around and squeezes my hand as she walks past me and back toward her bedroom. God bless that girl. She’s a true friend.
    “Do you want to come in?” I ask.
    Judd walks in and shuts the door behind him. He pulls his coat off and lays it on the back of the couch. He runs a hand through his wavy hair.
    “What the fuck was that about?” he asks. He isn’t yelling at me, but from his tight jaw, he seems to be struggling to hold it together.
    I may have been feeling embarrassed and ashamed before he walked through the door, but the anger in his tone sets me on the defensive.
    “I told you it seemed like a big step and you…” I can’t finish my explanation. When I say it out loud, it sounds completely stupid.
    “I what? Told you it wasn’t a big deal? Okay, so let’s talk about that,” he says. “It’s just my friends. These are the people I hang out with when I have free time and I’ve been dying for them to meet you. What’s the problem there?”
    I cross my arms in front of my chest and back toward the wall. I’m not used to being spoken to so directly. I don’t know what to say to him.
    “Bailey, you need to talk to me,” he says. “I’m trying really hard to understand why, after an entire week of spending as much time together as possible, you would