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“Can we talk?”
“Sorry, I have a date,” I said, turning toward the exit.
“Seriously Eli, four and a half months ago, you were about to make me your wife. Please, give me five minutes!”
I stopped, clenching my coat. Facing her again, I walked right up to her. “But the thing is, you aren’t my wife. You aren’t my anything. I gave you two years, Hannah. I gave you a ring. I don’t want to waste giving you any more of my time.”
“If you had given me your heart, you wouldn’t be able to go on a date. Not with some other woman, not yet.”
Wow. I huffed to myself. She really was that selfish. “So what you're telling me is I should be suffering? I should be a wreck, right? Because then at least you could see how badly I was in love with you?”
She crossed her arms. “I didn't mean it like that—”
“Yes, you did, and I’ll give you an answer. The first month, I was like that. And then I met her, and without realizing it, I stopped thinking about you. Even when we were actually talking about you and him, you were both just blurs, and I could only see her. Maybe because she knew exactly how embarrassed and stupid I felt. The reason I’m not miserable like you were hoping is because when I…” I smiled, not really able to stop myself. “Because when I think about her, I can’t stop smiling, and it’s about the dumbest things, like why the hell does she not buy furniture, or how can she think vanilla ice cream is the best flavor in the world? So. Please stop asking me for a moment of my time, Hannah. I don’t want to go back to you. Have a good night.”
I didn’t care if she called after me a million times. I wasn’t going to turn back. Heading toward the front of the building, I felt lighter. Glancing up at the giant curtain, I shook my head. God only knew what she was painting in there. “Guinevere?” I was tempted to knock on it.
She popped her head out. “You're here already!”
“Do you want me to go and come back?”
“No, give me ten—no, five minutes. Sorry, I got carried away and lost track of time.” She went back in her corner. There was a small clink, and she let out a soft curse.
“You okay?”
“I’m great.”
She sounded like she was hopping. This is what I am talking about. I just never knew what she was going to say or how she was going to react. Sitting on the chairs, I waited.
Sure enough, when she came out five minutes later, she had changed into a long white dress, green jacket, and her military boots. “Is this okay for where we’re going?” She spun around for me.
“Are you telling me you changed back there?” It was taking my mind a little while to catch up. Her bare legs were distracting me—that, and the knowledge that five minutes before she had been naked.
“Yeah, no one could see, right? My plan was to go home and then change, but I forgot while I was working. What?”
Standing up, I took her hand. “Nothing, you look beautiful.”
“Really?”
She laughed like she didn’t believe me. “I wouldn’t say so if you didn’t. Let’s go,” I said, walking out to where the car was parked, waiting in front of the hospital. My driver handed me the keys before heading back to the town car.
“This is yours?” she asked, running her hand on the car. “Tell me this is yours.”
“It is. It’s a—”
“Black 1965 Aston Martin DB5 Vantage Convertible. It’s James Bond's car,” she finished for me in total awe.
“You know cars?” I asked, opening the door for her and heading around to the front seat.
“I told you before, I grew up with boys. And I know there are only twenty-one of these in the world.”
“Well, I’m one of the twenty-one,” I said, pulling out onto the street.
She bit her finger, looking at me with a large smile on her face.
“What?”
“Don’t mind me, I’m just watching your hotness level rise.”
