Page 299 of Ruthless Court

The confession slips out.

Silence.

I grip the steering wheel.

Hannah turns slowly.

“You changed three times?”

“No.”

“You just said you did.”

“I reconsidered the statement.”

A laugh starts.

“Three times?”

“Drop it.”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Hannah.”

“You stood in front of a closet trying to decide what to wear for me?”

“I own limited non-basketball clothing.”

Her grin is unbearable.

“This might be the best part of my evening.”

“You cried over a voicemail song.”

“I had something in my eye.”

“You were wearing glasses.”

“Drive, Haverhill.”

I smile and keep climbing.

The overlook is empty.

Perfect.

A wooden rail borders the edge, beyond it nothing but dark hills and thousands of lights stretching across the valley.

Hannah gets out before I reach her door.

I stare across the hood.

“You ruined my streak.”

“What streak?”

“I was opening doors.”