Page 27

TWENTY-SEVEN

I’m dreaming of Hannah, which isn’t anything new. What is new, though, is the dream being accompanied by the wet sensation on my neck.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I groan. I don’t remember her falling asleep with me last night. Did she sneak into my room this morning? I’m not complaining, but the idea seems so out of character for her, it’s a shock to my sleep-addled mind.

Her breathy laugh fills the room, but it sounds distant. Too far away for her to be the one licking my neck. My eyes fly open as I jackknife up in bed, blinking rapidly to focus my vision.

Hannah is across the room, standing in the doorway, doubled over in silent laughter, gasping for air between fits of hysterics. Fred is at her side, jumping in excitement.

“Please tell me that wasn’t the dog.”

“It…” She laughs. “Wasn’t.” More giggles. “The dog,” she lies, finally getting the last word out despite struggling for breath.

I throw myself back onto the bed, covering my face with crossed arms. Before long, a warm body settles beside mine. When arms without fur drape over my stomach, I’m certain it’s actually Hannah and not our dog. I look down and find her already smiling up at me.

“I’m glad you found that funny,” I huff.

“The noise you made really did it for me.” She mimics a deep moan.

I can’t help but laugh, pulling her closer and burying my nose in her hair. Her scent is calming, a mix of vanilla, coconut, and something uniquely her. “I thought it was you. I was half-asleep.”

“Oh, you’d like to wake up with me licking your neck?”

“I mean… I wouldn’t complain.”

She swats my chest playfully, then glances around the room with curiosity. This is her first time in here, I realize. Her eyebrows scrunch together, creating two lines between them. “This room isn’t as nice as the one you gave me. Why didn’t you take the better room?”

“This room is fine, but nothing but the best for my girl,” I say, trying to sound casual, not wanting her to read too much into it.

“What? But this is your house… You should have the nicest bedroom.” The furrow between her brows deepens, and it’s somehow adorable. So much for playing this off.

“It’s our house,” I remind her.

“Ryan.” Her eyes dart around the room once more. I can tell she’s still working out how she feels about the gesture. “It’s too much.”

“I think it’s just enough, Sunshine.”

“But you didn’t have to?—”

I bring my lips to hers, not giving myself the chance to second-guess. Fuck it. I’ve wanted to kiss her since the second our lips parted the other night. I can’t stand seeing the worry on her face, and kissing it away feels like the best option—I hope she agrees.

I don’t linger. Only a gentle meld of our lips before I pull back, needing to see her eyes. “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. Making you smile makes me happy. So just let me have this, okay?” I gently run my thumb over the lines between her brows, feeling them fade under my touch.

“All right. Thank you,” she relents, and just when I think the moment is over, she shocks me by bringing her lips back to mine in another chaste kiss.

My mind runs off with thoughts of her wanting to kiss me and what that might mean, but she snaps me out of it with her casual question. “So, what’re we doing today?”

Now is probably when I should ask her on a date, according to Fox, but I haven’t figured out how or if it’s the right time. The unexpected kiss didn’t make my indecision any easier.

Before I can come up with a plan, she looks at me with a bright smile. “Want to bring Freddie to the dog park?”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” I kiss her once more. Am I pushing the limits? Maybe, but she doesn’t protest.

Her face flushes prettily, and she exhales a contented sigh before resting her head on my chest.

How the hell did I get so lucky? To have Hannah, my best friend, the perfect woman, curled up in bed with me.

I can’t mess this up. It’s the same thing I tell myself daily.

This isn’t like hockey; I can’t just practice being a boyfriend until I get it right. Technically, I guess this fake boyfriend thing is practice. But most people have multiple real relationships before finding “the one.” But I’m here, cursed with finding my person with no clue how to keep her. Okay, cursed might be a bit dramatic.

But the point remains: I need to learn this boyfriend business—and I need to do it fast.

“Okay, I’ve got to get up, or else I’m never going to. Your chest is surprisingly comfortable for being so muscly,” she says, pushing up and standing.

I chuckle. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She reaches the doorway but pauses. Spinning on her heels, she rushes back to the bed and leans over me, her long hair falling around my face like a curtain. She presses her lips to mine for one more quick kiss. The urge to hold her close is strong, but I grip the comforter at my side instead, letting her take the lead. She pulls away swiftly, heading out of my room and across the hall to hers.

I’m left staring at the spot she vacated, grinning like an idiot.

“Freddie! Stop that!” Hannah calls across the dog park. If it weren’t for the huge smile Hannah’s been sporting the whole time, I’d question whether this was a good idea. The once lush, grassy space is now a muddy mix of melting snow and slush. At least one of us is going to need a bath when we get home.

Hannah and I are bundled up tightly against the cold, each huff of breath creating small clouds, but the temperature doesn’t seem to bother our crazy dog. Freddie charges through the mess without a care in the world, making fast friends with the other dogs.

There’s one in particular he seems especially fond of. Looks like he’s already secured himself a girlfriend. My dog has more game than I do. If only it were that easy for me: stake my claim on Hannah by humping her, and live happily ever after, joyfully running through the park together. I shake my head at Fred’s antics and my train of thought.

“It’s a bummer Mia won’t be moving here,” Hannah says, bringing my attention back to her.

My stepsister called on our way here. I’m pretty sure she called to dig for information on my new living situation, mainly my roommate, but when I told her Hannah was in the car, she was happy to fill us in on her new plans instead.

Turns out the college plan my mom was so excited about was another passing phase. She’s already moved on to her next idea, which I don’t completely understand but seems to involve buying a van and traveling the country. I’m sure the shelf life on this one will be just as short, but that’s Mia for you.

“Yeah, I guess not. Maybe she’ll swing by during her trip around the world,” I deadpan, unable to stop the eye roll that accompanies the statement.

Hannah nudges my side before she resumes shuffling from foot to foot. Offering her the only warmth I can, I drape my arm over her shoulders and pull her close.

She looks up at me with a small, appreciative smile. “Too bad. I think she would’ve liked Rumford.”

I nod, my gaze following the sound of a bark I instantly recognize as Fred's.

“We had a good time back then, right?” Hannah asks.

A smile tugs at my lips. If it weren’t for college, and my inability to pass calculus, who knows when our paths would’ve crossed. The one time sucking at math paid off. “The best.”

She turns her body so it's angled more in my direction. “Do you have any regrets? You know, about how it all worked out?”

I’m surprised by her questions. She’s never once brought up past regrets, if she has any, or asked me about mine. Our conversations about college mostly revolve around inside jokes and reminiscing about the good times, like I’m pretty sure all friends do.

Maybe this is related to her breakup? She’s told me she regrets giving Knolls so much control over her, but I didn’t imagine her thoughts on the matter went all the way back to college.

Do I have regrets? I tell her the truth, “I don’t know. If things were different back then, we might not have ended up here. And I’m pretty happy here.”

Would it have been better to have her by my side six years ago? Sure, but who knows if I would’ve fucked it up as a college kid. There’s still a chance of me fucking it up now, though I try not to entertain that possibility.

“That’s a good way to think about it.” A smile lights her face, but her gaze is distant, following Fred’s movements.

I rub her arm through the wool material of her coat. “What about you? Any regrets?”

She looks thoughtful, as though she’s running through different scenarios in her head and weighing them against each other. “I think I like your philosophy. No regrets. You know I had a crush on you back then?” She says the last part like it’s no big deal, like she didn’t just alter my brain chemistry.

I jerk my head down to see her better. The motion is so quick I worry I might have pulled something. Play it cool. “You did?”

She finally aims her smile in my direction, making my stomach flip in a not entirely unpleasant way. “Mm-hmm. I thought it wasn’t reciprocated. Was I wrong?”

I give her a look I hope says, c’mon, really? “You were a bit off base.”

“I’m maybe seeing that now.”

I’m practically holding my breath, waiting for her to elaborate on this crush and whether it extends to the present moment. She’s been holding things close to her chest, so I don’t expect a grand proclamation of love. But her fessing up to a college crush… Pretty much the same as a declaration of love, am I right?

Unfortunately, she doesn’t expand on her past or possibly present feelings. But what she does give me is just a bit more hope, enough of it that makes me emboldened to put Project Romance into play.

“Do you want to go out to lunch after we get that monster cleaned up?” I tilt my head in the general direction of our dog. After clearing my throat, I tack on the important part, according to Fox. “Like a date.”

“A practice one?”

I consider giving in to my instincts, wanting to tell her “no, a real one,” but I chicken out. Instead, I shrug and respond with, “Sure,” hoping to leave it open for her to interpret however she feels comfortable.

“All right, yeah, that sounds good—” She’s cut off by Fred’s over-the-top bark. “Oh God, he’s at it again. I should probably go help.” She hurries off in the direction of our dog, trying to get it on with his girlfriend.

Hannah tries to separate Fred from his new ladyfriend. He’s picked a purebred golden retriever. Shooting above his level, just like his dad. Ha, I need to stop thinking about my dog’s love life.

And continue to worry about my own.