Page 16 of Living for Truth (Broken Shelves #2)

Morgan

A fter the cheese, we had the main course: different types of marinated meat cooked on a cast iron skillet along with a side salad and an assortment of vegetables.

Now, we have our dessert—chocolate fondue. I chose the turtle fondue with candied pecans because it’s fucking delicious.

I didn’t think this through very well though.

I already toed the invisible line by kissing Hannah on the forehead when no one else was around. I could play it as a “just in case they’re watching” gesture, but the truth is, I wanted to.

But now, I’m crossing all sorts of friendship boundaries with the direction my thoughts are going.

I didn’t think I’d get turned on watching Hannah wrap her plump lips around a chocolate covered strawberry or enjoy the little hums she makes after a particularly good bite. I didn’t think about how difficult it would be to stop myself from wiping a smear of chocolate from her lips.

I can picture it clearly. I’d wipe that smear with my thumb, bring it to my mouth, and suck it off, mixing the sweetness of the chocolate with the sweetness that is Hannah.

Her eyes would darken with desire, and I’d say, “I think I need another taste,” and cup her face gently before bringing my lips to hers, savoring what I’m sure would be the most immaculate flavor combination.

Or, I’d press my chocolate covered thumb to those pillowy lips, and she’d suck it into her delectable mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip of my thumb like she would around the tip of my cock. I’d pull it out with a pop, and then I’d lean in and ravish her mouth like I would her pussy.

Fuck, am I a pervert?

I might be. Because she sees us as friends, and I see us naked in bed together.

I stifle a groan and shift myself, grateful my dark pants hide the semi I’m sporting. Good thing Hannah is distracted dipping a cream puff in the chocolate.

“You good, Morgan?” she asks while swirling the pastry in fondue.

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“You seem a little antsy. We can leave whenever you’re ready. I know you probably need to get Aly, too.” Hannah shoves the whole chocolate covered cream puff in her mouth, making her cheeks puff up a little like an adorable chipmunk.

I clear my throat. “I’m good. Just trying to figure out what I want to try next. There’re so many options.” I stab a piece of pineapple from the tray with the skewer and swirl it around. “As for Aly, she’s sleeping over at my sister’s tonight.”

“That’s so fun. I have a lot of fond memories of sleeping at my Aunt Pam’s house when I was a kid.” She half frowns then shakes her head. “Anyway, do you have any other siblings?”

I don’t press on the subject change, though I really, really want to. I want to know why she gets so sad sometimes, what goes on in that pretty head of hers.

“I have two older sisters, a twin sister, and a younger brother. Olivia, Alice, Sarah, and Kendall. Kendall and I are the only ones not married, and I’m the only one with a child. Olivia helps me run the shop and creates all the crystal jewelry.”

“That’s so cool! I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have more siblings than just Jake. There’s such a big gap between us, so we aren’t very close. Are you close with all of your siblings?”

I chuckle. “Yeah, we’re a tight-knit group. My mom never forced us to be close, which is nice, but we all kind of got there on our own. When shit hit the fan with Whitney, they were the only thing holding me together. I wouldn’t have survived without them—I still wouldn’t be able to.”

Hannah gives me a soft smile. “I love that. What are your parents' names?”

“Iris and Axel.”

“Oh,” Hannah sighs wistfully. “Iris is a lovely name.”

“She’s a good mom. I would be totally lost without her.”

“That must be nice,” she says a little sadly.

I give in to the urge to place a hand on her thigh and squeeze, hopefully in a comforting gesture.

“I’m sure they’d love to meet you. My mom has welcomed everyone else’s partners with open arms.” My eyes widen when I realize what I implied. “Not that we’re partners. Just friends. But she’s a mama bear and loves fiercely.”

Hannah’s cheeks flush, and she just nods. I mentally smack myself in the head.

It’s awkward for a few minutes until Katie comes with the check, and then we decide it’s time to head out. Hannah argues with me about paying, saying since it’s a fake date— ouch— we should split it.

I level her with a serious look and say, “If we were actually dating, I would pay the check. So let me pretend for a minute, okay?”

She acquiesces but still grumbles that she’s paying next time. Just like at brunch, I can’t help but smile because she still wants there to be a next time.

On the drive to her place, we don’t really chat. But it’s a comfortable silence as we listen to an up-and-coming indie musician’s station. I get her back home at precisely ten-thirty-five, well before midnight, so hopefully that scores me some points with her mom.

I walk her to the door, and even though this isn’t a real date, the anticipation of a goodnight kiss is palpable, and I wonder if she wants me to kiss her.

Hannah fiddles with her keys but doesn’t make a move to unlock the door.

“Thank you for tonight. After the drama at the beginning, I had a really great time,” she says, almost shyly.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for agreeing to come. I had an amazing time. Let’s do it again soon, yeah?” I ball my fingers into a fist to stop myself from tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, cupping her cheek, and finally figuring out what her lips feel like against mine.

She stares up at me with her hazel eyes and nods. “I’d like to do it again soon.”

“Good,” I whisper, the tension in the air thickening. Just as I’m about to make my move and completely obliterate the boundaries of our arrangement, she steps back and puts her key in the door.

“Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.” It’s not a question but a demand, and dammit if it doesn’t make me like her more.

“I will. Goodnight, Hannah.” I step down off the porch.

“Goodnight, Morgan.” Hannah steps inside her house, and I hear the click of the lock engaging.

I blow out a frustrated breath as I get in the car and pull out of the driveway.

Things are surface level with Hannah—I know that—but I’m already struggling to stay patient while I wait until she’s ready. Pushing her won’t get me anywhere other than further from her. It was one date. One fake date. At least in her eyes. But she wants to see me again, and I count that as a win.

I just wish whoever’s writing the story of my life would hurry the fuck up and get to the part where I can kiss her already.