As I plated, I snuck another glance at Hannah in that tight number she had on. Now that I got a better look at it, I could see the dress was textured. It made me want to run my hands over it all the more, to feel the fabric between my fingers, to know exactly how soft, how thick, how strong it was. I wondered, briefly, if I could rip it off her body, but she probably wouldn’t appreciate that. There was a zipper straight down the back, anyway, and now I was imagining pulling it down with my teeth…
Fuck’s sakes, Ash, I growled internally as my cock rose again. Get a hold of yourself!
“Smells good, whatever it is,” Hannah said, retrieving a couple of glasses. “You remember where the silverware is?”
Thus far, I’d been using the plastic cutlery provided in the bag. I looked up from my handiwork. “Uh… that drawer?” I jutted my chin in the direction I meant.
Hannah smiled at me and her eyes sparkled. “Good call.” There was a soft note to her voice when she said it, something like stifled excitement. It made me wonder if she was having the same thoughts I was. If she was imagining a time where I’d come over and I’d know exactly where all the plates and silverware and glasses were. A time when this was part of a greater routine. Nothing forced. No manufactured reasons for seeing one another. Just a natural evolution of what we already shared.
No, I told myself, she’s not. You’re here for her protection, just like Reid and Wyatt are with Sarah and Beth for theirs. You blew your chances with her on day fucking one, champ. She said it herself—to her, you’re just a player. In her eyes, you’ll never be anything else.
The wind left my sails real quick at that. The voice inside my head was probably right. I’d fucked up with Hannah, right from the start. No way she’d ever trust me again after what happened with Tanya. Shit… right as I was about to try to convince Hannah there was more to me than met the eye, Tanya just had to show up. But then, that was my fault. I was the one who’d forgotten about her. I was the one who’d never even thought to text her to cancel that goddamn booty call.
I couldn’t blame Tanya. And I couldn’t blame Hannah, either. Maybe I couldn’t change the past, but I could at least own up to my mistakes. It was certainly more than my old man ever did, that’s for sure.
I set the table just as Hannah came over with the bottle of wine and our filled glasses. It was a simple affair, but it looked damn nice—much nicer than anything I ever did for myself. I tried to make it just a little more special by pulling out Hannah’s chair when she went to sit down, and I saw her cheeks flare as I scooted her forward to put her at a comfortable distance from the table. I smiled at that. At least I’d done something to impress her.
“How was your day?” she asked when I sat down, and part of my heart broke at the question. Fuck, it really was like we were an old married couple. I hated it almost as much as I loved it. And I loved it a whole damn lot.
“Kinda rough,” I admitted, cutting up my chicken Parmesan into smaller pieces. Hannah had already started in on her wine and I nodded to her plate. “Thought you liked veal?”
“I do,” she said, flashing me a reassuring smile. “I just…” She laughed. “I just wanted to make it easier to talk. Y’know, with the wine.” She lifted her glass. “Always works with patrons at the bar, right? They get a few drinks in them and the conversation just… flows. I didn’t…” She blushed again. “I didn’t want it to be awkward.”
I raised a brow. “Why would it be awkward?”
Hannah didn’t answer me. She just shook her head. “You did good on the veal,” she said.
Well, at least there was that.
Hannah turned out to be right, though. On her second glass of wine, talking seemed to go a little smoother. She was more animated, more outgoing, more… herself than she’d seemed at first. As much as I loved what that dress and those heels did for her body, it seemed like something of a performance. The Hannah I knew was messy, laughed a little too long and too loud, and wore what was comfortable rather than what was sexy. And she looked way sexier doing that than any woman I knew who operated the opposite way. There was something natural about her, something effortless, that made her seem approachable and intimidating all at the same time. I much preferred that Hannah, even if her neckline made it so that when she laughed, her beautiful breasts bounced just a little in plain sight.
It took me a while to get the courage to start bringing up subjects she may not like. By the time I got there, she was getting up to get another bottle. I checked my phone real fast while she was gone—no texts from Wyatt or Reid, so I assumed everything was fine there. That was a relief. One less thing to worry about, at least.
I set the phone on the table when she came back. “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” I began, careful to keep my tone light and casual, “what was the village like? Back when you lived there, I mean.”
Hannah frowned. She poured herself another glass, but she seemed stiffer. “Dull, if I had to pick an adjective,” she muttered.
“Well, you spent most of your life there. I just thought… you know… maybe some things were better than others.”
Hannah sat down, shrugging a single shoulder as she sipped. “Like what?”
I stared at her. “Uh, I was hoping you could tell me. I wasn’t there.”
Her eyes flicked to mine over the rim of her glass. Okay, so maybe that was a little snappy of me, but she was being purposefully evasive and I didn’t like it. Playing mind games with Hannah was the last thing I was interested in.
Slowly, she set her glass down. “We did a lot of chores. Sometimes we tended to the animals. We had a couple horses, for the buggy and for the plough. We went to church a lot. Learned to cook early on so that we could…” Here she paused, her expression tightening. “…please our father and our future husbands.” Then the glass was back in her hand suddenly, and she was sipping from it again. Her gaze wrested away from mine to focus on a nearby wall. “They don’t call it the simple life for nothin’.”
“You never… I dunno, played games or anything? As a kid?” I thought maybe focusing on the happy stuff first would make it easier.
She tipped her head just a little. “Missed out on the advent of the Super Nintendo, I’m afraid.”
I narrowed my eyes at her, but she still refused to look at me. “That’s not what I meant.” But the steeliness in my tone must have caught her ear, because with a shift and a sigh, she deigned to answer.
“Yeah. We played games. Sure. Caught lightning bugs sometimes. Beth always cried until we let them go. Sarah used to climb trees, though once she got up there, she could never get back down. And occasionally I’d make them things, like clothes for their straw dolls.”
I blinked at her. “You didn’t play?”
Hannah sipped again, this time for longer. “I was busy.”
“With what?” I asked.
I could see her grip on the glass stem hardening. “I was the eldest. I had responsibilities.”
Goddammit, Hannah. I knew there was more to it than that. I set my fork down and leaned my chin on my hand, staring at her hard, waiting for her to elaborate, but she never did. Not until I asked her, “Is that why you left? You were tired of being ignored and put last?”
She snorted derisively. “Oh, trust me,” she muttered, “I was never ignored.” And then she drained the last of her glass and began pouring herself another.
I reached out and touched her hand. “Don’t do that. Come on. I want to talk.”
Her eyes flicked to mine, sharp and fast. “So now you think you can tell me how much wine I can have?” She set the bottle down hard. “Maybe you want to count the calories I’ve had for the day too? Or maybe you’d like to go check out my room to make sure I made the bed right?” She curled a lip in a snarl. “All my chores are done for the day, Dad. Pretty sure I can drink however much I fucking want.”
I sat back in my chair, putting some distance between us. The air around her was charged, like I was watching a livewire dance in midair
, showering sparks and the vague scent of ozone. The temperature in the room seemed to drop by a few degrees, too, more so the longer she stared at me. Electricity and a cold wind—always a paradox, Hannah.
“That isn’t what I meant,” I began. “I just want you to talk to me. I don’t care how much you drink. Get smashed, for all I care. Drink until you can’t walk or stand. That doesn’t bother me. I’ll be here to pick you up and tuck you into bed—”
“Do not!” Hannah growled, standing up so fast she knocked her chair over. “Don’t… don’t you ever!” She was panting, her face pale, her eyes wild. I rose too, slowly, my blood quickening in my veins. What was going on here? What the hell had I said?
“I don’t understand,” I whispered, leaving my hands on the table so she could see where they were at all times. I knew it made people feel safer, more secure, and something told me that was exactly what Hannah needed to feel right now. “C’mon, love. It’s me you’re talking to…”
Her face twisted in such disgust that she might as well have slapped my cheek. “Oh, who, Ash Brody? You’re who I’m supposed to talk to and… what, trust? Ash, the player? Ash, the fucking heartbreaker?”
“How about Ash, the guy who got his apartment broken into ‘cause of whatever you’re dealing with?” I asked her, narrowing my eyes. “Ash, the guy who had his personal belongings violated ‘cause someone has it out for you?”
Hannah stopped talking for a moment. Some of the wind seemed to leave her sails. “…what?”
“Yeah,” I said, “you heard me. Someone broke into my apartment, Hannah. You said you needed me to protect you, and I have been—without question. But now you owe me an explanation. What the hell are you running from?”
“I owe you?” she said, her brows steadily furrowing again. Any trace of sympathy she might have felt for me and my situation slowly dissolved. “I gave you your payment, Ash. In that bathroom stall. Or don’t you remember? Maybe you’ve got other things—other women—on your mind.”
She snatched my phone off the table before I could stop her. “What kind of texts am I gonna see if I open up your inbox, Ash? What kind of apology did you send to Tanya? Was it the same hard and throbbing one you sent to me?”
“Jesus, no!” I said, but it didn’t matter. Hannah wasn’t having it. Any of it. I flinched to the side when she threw my phone at me, allowing it to hit the wall just behind my head. It clattered to the floor in what I was certain was more than just one piece.
“You are not my boyfriend!” she screamed at me. She was shaking; there were tears in her eyes, hot and glistening. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides. “You’re not anything to me! You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to… to expect things! Ask me questions—get to know me—stick your nose in places it doesn’t belong!”
I had completely and utterly lost control of this situation, and in ways that hurt way more than they should have. That snarled reminder that I wasn’t her boyfriend… Christ, it cut deep. The worst part was that I wasn’t. She was right. None of the barbs she slung at me were exactly a lie. But that just made it worse, because at least if she’d gone off the deep end, I could tell myself she didn’t know what she was talking about. That I was better than she was giving me credit for.
But I couldn’t. Because she was right. There was more distance between us than just the table, a wide gulf that stretched far as the eye could see. I wasn’t going to get any answers from her tonight. Not like this.
“I know,” I told her, very softly and slowly. “I know I’m not your boyfriend. But I care about you, Hannah. I know I haven’t been the best at showing it, but I do, and… I’m sorry.”
My apology seemed to placate her only a little. Only enough to make her mouth shut and her fingers loosen, if only by an infinitesimal degree. She approached me then and I straightened, unsure of what to expect. Those heels gave her enough height to let her look me in the eye without breaking her neck, and I watched twin tears roll down each side of her face as she said:
“If you go in my bedroom, you don’t tuck me in and kiss my forehead like I’m a good girl. You fuck me. Hard. Like I’m dirty and bad. You got that, Ash? Do you fucking understand?”
I stared. What the hell was going on? “No. I don’t understand, Hannah. I really don’t.”
“Then let me make it simple for you.” She squared her shoulders, but goddamn was she shivering. “You either fuck me, or you fuck off. Those are your choices.” A hard look overcame her eyes as she added, “That’s the only thing I want from you.”
I took a long, slow breath through my nose. Frustration simmered, low but hot, in my belly, its fumes snaking into my chest like smoke off of incense. So this was how it was going to be. Hannah wasn’t going to let me deescalate. She was going to push, and push hard, and push harder, until I pushed back.
“Is this what you want, Hannah?” I asked her, my tone even but dark. “Is this what you really want?”
And I stared her down as I waited for her answer.
15
Hannah
Is this what you want, Hannah? Is this what you really want?
No. It really wasn’t. And yet at the same time, it really was.
Sex was safe. You didn’t have to have deep conversations while you were fucking. It felt good enough to keep you distracted, and when it was all over, there wasn’t any point in returning to the fight that had led you there. If it would shut Ash up, I’d fuck him all night. Screw his brains out. Make him forget all about the village and my childhood and whatever other ugly questions he wanted to ask me.
I’d spent so much time trying to forget all of that. Two fucking years. I wasn’t about to let him take that away from me. I deserved to put it behind me. I deserved to forget.
“Yes,” I said, lifting my chin defiantly. His tone was a low, warning growl, but I didn’t give a shit, and I wanted to show him exactly how much I didn’t care. “Do your worst, Ash. It’s what you’re here for.”
He moved suddenly, pressing into my space in a way that instinctively forced me to take a step back. I was unsteady in these heels—seriously, fuck pumps—and I staggered, but Ash caught my wrist, allowing me to regain my balance.
“You want a guy who’ll fuck you into oblivion,” he said, pushing me back again. I almost fell this time, but his grip on my wrist was like a vise. Another step forward, and I took another back. The burn of his eyes made my stomach tense. “Who’ll make you forget all the bad things that happened to you before. Is that right?”
My back struck the wall. Seemed whenever I was with Ash, this was how we ended up—him leering down at me, and me cornered like some kind of animal. Two more traitor tears burned the corners of my eyes before slipping down my face as I nodded, my throat too tight for words. Yes.
Ash tucked a finger under my chin, tilting up my face so that I couldn’t look away from him. “And just what am I making you forget?” he asked.
No. That was too much. My breath hitched and I forced my gaze away, turning my head, but Ash grabbed me on either side of my jaw. It didn’t hurt, but the pressure was too much for me to ignore. “Hannah… what am I making you forget?”
“Fuck you,” I whispered. I was so angry at him I wanted to spit, but I restrained myself. “Fuck you, Ash.”
He shook his head. “Not until you tell me what it is. I’ve got you, Hannah. And you’re not getting away from me now.”
You’re not getting away from me.
Those words…
I was hitting Ash before I knew what I was doing, slapping him open-handed across the face and pulling my knee up into his groin. But Ash was used to behavior like this. He deflected my knee easily, grunting softly as he chose the slap to the face, instead. Between a rock and a hard place, I think I would have done the same in his shoes. But at that point, backed into a corner and hearing those awful, twisted words in my head… I wasn’t thinking much at all.
Nothing beyond my own survival. I had to get away from him. Had to
run. Had to scream. Had to…
Scream and I will put the bit back in your mouth. You don’t want that. Do you, Hannah?
I shook my head, even though it wasn’t Ash who’d asked me the question. “No… please…”
His arms were around me in an instant, pinning my arms to my sides, rendering me helpless against him. I wailed and cursed, struggling anyway, reminding myself that if I had to go down, then at least I’d go down fighting. I would never submit again. Not the way I had back then.
“Okay,” Ash said very softly in my ear. He was pulling me away from the wall, though he insisted I remain in his arms. “Okay, Hannah. Okay. Everything’s going to be all right.”
“Can’t you just…” My soul felt like he was tearing it apart. I took a labored breath and shook my head. “Can’t you just fuck me and get it over with? Please? Just… just do what you’re here to do!”
Ash looked at me like I was absolutely insane. It didn’t help. But the hurt in his eyes did—the glimmer of anguish that let me know, without a doubt, he wasn’t one of them.
“No,” he said, a simple word that gave me a disproportionate amount of comfort. “No. I’m not going to do that. Not until you tell me who the fuck hurt you. Who… who made you like this?”
When I went still, Ash slowly reduced his hold on me. After a time, when he realized I wasn’t going to hit him again, he guided me to the sofa and we sat down. I took off the heels immediately, busying myself with the straps, desperate to find something, anything, to do that wasn’t this. It was a conversation I never wanted to have. Not with anyone. Not even with my own sisters. And yet here I was, about to relive the nightmare I’d tried so hard to bury.
The Brody Bunch Collection: Bad Boy Romance Page 31
