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“Yeah.”
What would she think of me, if she knew what mistakesI’vemade?
I’ve never told a single person what happened between me and Candace. She told my father. Crew guessed; I essentially confirmed. I assume Crew told Scarlett, since they don’t seem to keep any secrets from each other. But I’ve never willingly offered the information up to anyone before.
“You okay?”
I blink, refocusing on Hannah instead of the past and shaking the strange concern she wouldn’t like me all that much, if she really knew me. Shoving away the realization I want her tolikeme, not just be attracted to me.
“I wasn’t sure you’d be waiting out here.”
The small admission is a large one, for me. Doubt is a weakness, and everyone prefers a strong leader. Certainty has been drilled into me since the age I learned to walk.You only mess up when you admit it, my father likes to say. Maybe that’s what I should have said about Candace, instead of apologizing. He’d still hate me but would probably respect me more.
“I got a couple of better offers, but you asked first,” she says.
I can’t tell if she’s joking or not. Hannah is stunning. Beauty that’s impossible to miss or ignore.
I take a step closer, resting a hand on the bark above her head. She’s close enough to touch. Close enough to kiss. Close enough I hear the tiny hitch in her breathing when our proximity registers.
She bites her bottom lip, and we’re standing close enough I can see the tiny indentations left behind in the plump skin. Blood rushes south when she soothes the spot with a swipe of her tongue, the sight affecting me more than anything I saw inside.
“Can I kiss you?” I don’t realize I said the words out loud until they’re out, hovering between us.
“I thought you were going after what you wanted tonight?” she asks.
“I’m making sure you want it too.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
Before I can respond, before I can kiss her,she’skissingme.
Hannah tastes like gin and mint.
Her tongue slides into my mouth, rubbing mine in an erotic rhythm. Rough bark scrapes my palm as I press against her, my free hand falling to her waist and wishing there wasn’t a layer of fabric separating our skin.
She moans into my mouth when she feels my erection, rocking her hips against mine and making it impossible to think straight. Her fingers fist in my hair, the spark of pain when she tugs only enhancing the pleasure.
I haven’t been this affected by a woman in a long time. Maybe ever. And I’ve definitely never made out with a woman on a busy street, in full view of anyone who looks over here.
We’re both breathing heavily when we separate. I suck in deep lungfuls of cool air, trying to calm my racing heart. Trying to rationalize why kissing Hannah feels like skydiving instead of an easy, expected glide.
“You can kiss me anytime you want,” she whispers.
I smile, and it’s unexpected. My smiles are usually planned. Part of a farewell or in response to someone else’s. Around Hannah, they’re natural. Just like I don’t think before grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the sidewalk. “Deal.”
CHAPTERSIX
OLIVER
Waking up with a hangover is the worst. And as soon as consciousness filters in, I know I drank too much last night.
My head is pounding. My tongue is dry. My stomach is churning.
I’m not just hungover. This feels like a step away from death.
When I roll over, I’m expecting white sheets.
Instead, all I see is blonde hair.
