by Lexi Ryan
“I’m supposed to be dead.” He squeezes my hand when I try to pull away. “As soon as we arrived in Afghanistan, I realized I couldn’t do the tour. I was a mess. I needed some time alone, so I went to India to join Janelle and left my agent behind with the other musicians…” He closes his eyes. “I should have been on that helicopter and I should be dead right now, and the only reason I’m alive is because I’m so fucking in love with you that I couldn’t face my tour. Don’t you see? You save me. Over and over again.”
I lick my lips and taste the salt of my tears. Maybe I’ll always love Nate, and maybe that love for Nate will destroy what I have with Max. But this isn’t about Max. This isn’t as simple as choosing between two men. I’m not willing to move to LA, and I won’t ask him to leave Collin to be here. I love him enough to let him go.
I understand the difference now. I’m not walking away from him. I’m letting him go.
“I want to go to your next appointment,” he says. “I’m their father. I want to be part of this.”
“Okay.”
“But do me a favor. Don’t bring him with you.”
I take a breath. “If I marry him, he’ll be helping me raise them, regardless of how you feel about that.”
His gaze settles on my left hand. “If?”
“When,” I whisper, but the word feels like a lie.
WHEN I hear the click of the shower door opening and closing, I get hard instantly. Because the thought of Hanna joining me in my shower does that to me.
I haven’t touched her since Nate appeared on her doorstep Friday night. I called her last night after she met with Nate, but her mind was somewhere else. I wanted to go to her apartment, to hold her and reassure us both, but I didn’t want to push her when I knew she was emotional and confused.
“Want company?” she whispers.
As I turn to her, I’m already filled with thoughts of pressing her against the tile as I kiss her. I want to remind her how it feels when we’re together. I want to sink to my knees so I can put my mouth between her legs as the hot water spills over her.
When I wipe the water from my face, I freeze. “What the fuck?”
Meredith skims her eyes over me, all the way down to my cock, and grins. “Good morning.” She reaches for me, and I shove her aside and leave the shower.
Hanna’s supposed to meet me here so we can head over to brunch at her mom’s together. It’s become our Sunday routine—as Meredith well knows, since she’s met us here on the last two Sundays to hand off Claire. No doubt she hoped Hanna would find us together, wet from the shower.
I wrap a towel around my hips and storm from the bathroom, determined to put distance between Meredith and me before I do something I regret.
I have my jeans on by the time she joins me in the bedroom.
“That didn’t turn out how I was hoping,” she grumbles, plopping her nude, wet body onto my bed.
I throw my towel over her. “Was that supposed to be sexy? Did you think you could climb into the shower with me and I wouldn’t be able to resist you?”
Her lower lip sticks out in a pout, and she removes the towel and uses it to dry her hair. “I thought maybe you could use some cheering up.”
“Would you just stop for a minute and imagine if our roles were reversed? If I were trying to reconcile with you and got naked and joined you in the shower?”
“I’d be down for that.”
Feeling her eyes on me literally makes me sick to my stomach. “If you do it, it’s supposed to be sexy, but you know what it would be called if a guy did it to you?”
Her eyes go hard and her nostrils flare. “What?”
“Assault, Meredith. I’m going to say one more time that I’m not interested. I want you to stay away from me. This shit isn’t sexy and it doesn’t turn me on. It’s sad and pathetic.” I tug on a shirt.
“Her baby daddy is alive, Max. You’re living in a fantasy world if you think she’s going to marry you when she could have him.”
I force myself to take a breath before I talk. “Are you listening? I need you to hear this. Whatever Hanna decides—whether she marries me or Nate Crane or the fucking man in the moon—I will never, ever be with you again. I would rather be alone than be with you. I would rather be abstinent for the rest of my life than have you in my bed. I tolerate you because you’re my daughter’s mother. That’s it and that’s all, and the next time you enter my house without my express permission, I’ll call the police and have them drag your delusional ass to jail. Do I make myself clear?” I leave the bedroom before she can answer.
Hanna’s waiting for me in the living room, her eyes wide.
Of course. Fuck.
“Hanna, I can exp—”
“I heard. All of it. She’s lost her mind.”
My shoulders sag with relief and I gather her into my arms. “She’s never known how to be alone. But this is a new low. I think…” I take a breath and slowly let it out.
Meredith has always been one to go after what she wants, and she never paid much mind to anyone who stood in her way, but it’s been different since Claire was born. More desperate.
“Would you quit talking about me?” Meredith emerges from the bedroom, fully dressed, her hair hanging in wet clumps around her shoulders. She narrows her eyes at Hanna. “How’s Nate?”
“Alive,” Hanna says dryly.
“So I hear. Have you even told Max about your fun little trips this summer? All over the fucking country. Or should I say, all over the country, fucking?”
“Did you need something?” Hanna asks her, and I’m proud of her. Six months ago, Meredith would have had Hanna turning away to hide in a corner. She’s changed. She’s stronger now, more confident. Did I do that, or was it Nate?
“Fine,” Meredith says. “I’m out. Where’s Claire?”
“She’s napping.” I nod to the Pack ’N Play on the other side of the room. “I’ll bring her by your place later.”
“Fine.”
“I need to tell you something,” I say when we’re alone.
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip. “Okay?”
“I’m getting a lawyer and pursing custody of Claire. I know it seems crazy with the twins coming, and I hope you understand—”
“I think it’s wonderful.” Her face lights up with her grin. “You’re an amazing father, and I hope you win.”
I release a breath and tension I hadn’t realized I felt dissolves from my shoulder. “Thank you,” I whisper, “for understanding.”
She splays her fingers over her belly. “I understand more than you know,” she says with a sad smile.
“How are you holding up? Did it go okay with Nate last night?”
She stiffens at his name. “He asked me to move to LA.”
Of course he did. “And what did you say?”
She blinks at me. “I’m not leaving New Hope. This is my home.”
“He wanted more than for you to move to LA.” I take a step closer. I need to touch her. I wonder if she knows she’s pulling away from me, if she can feel it like I can. It’s as if we’re connected by a thousand little threads like those in a woven rug and they’ve been breaking one at a time since the moment Nate came back into town. With every breath, I feel another thread snap. “He wanted you.”
She shrugs. “I’m already taken.”
I draw in a deep breath. She lifts her hand to my face and skims her fingers along my jaw.
I groan softly and slide my hand into her hair as I lower my mouth to hers. She’s soft and sweet, and I need more of her.
Taking a fistful of her skirt, I yank her dress up around her waist and find the cotton of her panties. She gasps, and I rub her through the fabric as her fingers curl into my back. My lips find her neck and the skin in the sensitive juncture of neck and shoulder.
“Max,” she says. But it’s not the normal breathy, needy whispering of my name. The word is a warning. A yield sign. “Max.”
My hand stills and I pull back
to look into her eyes. I’m blindsided by the apology I see there. “Let’s move in together.”
“What?” She blinks at me. If she’s thinking I have the world’s worst timing with important proposals, she’s not wrong.
“We could rent out our apartments and use the money to rent a little place together. Someplace without those stairs that scare the living shit out of me every time I think of you climbing them. Someplace we can make our own.” I take her hand and squeeze. “You didn’t want to move in together last spring because you knew your mom would flip if you lived with a guy before marriage, but we’re not trying to maintain appearances anymore, are we?” She looks at the floor, and I tilt her chin back up so her eyes meet mine. “I could give two shits about appearances. I want to wake up with you in my arms, Hanna. I want to know I’m going to be right there when you need me, every time you need me. You and Claire are all that matter in my world. I want everything that matters to be what I come home to every night.”
“I’m sorry.” She steps back. “I just can’t. I’m too confused right now.”
My lungs burn as I fill them—it hurts to breathe in a world where Hanna isn’t mine.
“I know it’s not fair. And I want a future with you, but…”
“But you can’t stop thinking about him.”
“I can’t move in with you right now,” she says softly. “That wouldn’t be fair to either of us. It’s not that simple.”
“You keep saying that.”
I swallow back the rest of what I want to say right along with my anger, frustration, and the betrayal I’ve never allowed myself to feel. While I was waiting for her to take my ring, she was with another man, and I was never allowed to be angry because that man died and she needed to grieve.
I drag a hand through my hair and look at the ceiling. “Was it that simple when you made love to him?”
“Can we not do this?”
Torment is etched across her face, and I can’t stand to know I’m the one who put it there. I pull her against my chest.
“I won’t rush you, but remember something for me,” I whisper into her hair. “You put on my ring.”
COLLIN TOSSES the stones into the river and claps when each splashes into the water.
But fuck if my stomach doesn’t pitch every time I think of Hanna and Max having a life together, laughing together, in bed together. Raising my children together.
“Hey, sexy,” a tall blonde murmurs from behind her stroller. And I’ll give her credit—it takes one hell of a lot of self-confidence to try to play the slut while walking your infant through the park.
I turn away, silently dismissing her.
“We have mutual friends.” She parks the stroller and sinks onto the bench beside me, but not before giving me an obvious once-over. “Congratulations on the whole avoiding-a-fiery-death thing.”
“Thanks,” I reply dryly. I keep my eye on Collin.
“So you’re in New Hope for a while, probably hoping to win Hanna back, huh?”
My jaw tightens. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Then I stand because I’m not in the mood.
“Oh,” she calls to my back. “Because the rest of the town seems to think those are your babies she’s carrying.”
I stop and slowly turn to her, and I can tell by her face that she expected this to be news to me. “I don’t know who you think you are or why you think I care about your opinions about my private business, but you’re mistaken. You can leave now.”
She attempts to look innocent and adjusts her baby’s blanket. “Twins—can you believe it? Surely you’re going to want to be in those babies’ lives, though, right? I mean, it won’t be easy now that they’re moving in together, but I bet you and Hanna have worked something out.”
My stomach clenches, and surprise must show on my face because she smiles—slow and wide. It reminds me of the hyenas in the Disney movie Collin loves to watch. She finally hit her mark.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“I’m a friend who wants to see everyone get what they deserve. Nothing less. Nothing more.”
HANNA’S MOTHER beams as she opens the door for me. “So glad you could make it for brunch.”
“Thanks for inviting me, Gretchen.”
“We missed you at church.” She turns to the living room. “Hanna, Max is here.”
Hanna pushes off the couch to greet me with a kiss on my cheek.
“Hi,” she says. “How was your morning? Post-crazy-baby-mama drama?”
“Good.” I spent it in my office at the club, trying to work magic with numbers and not succeeding. “How was church?”
She shrugs. “Mom is worried for the souls of her sinner daughters. We like to throw her a bone once in a while.”
“Food is ready!” her mom calls. “Everyone in the dining room, please!”
We file into the dining room behind Gretchen—Granny, Liz, Abby, Hanna, Maggie, Asher, me, and a couple of Gretchen’s friends—and line up at the buffet to fill our plates.
Gretchen takes Hanna’s plate from her before she can fill it. “I want you to try this new recipe.”
Liz and Hanna gape as their mother heaps hash brown casserole onto Hanna’s plate. The potatoes are bubbling with cheese and butter.
“The baby needs the calcium,” Gretchen says.
“I think hell just froze over,” Liz mumbles, and her mom shoots her a stern glare.
When our plates are full, we find our seats around the table.
“Liz,” Gretchen says, “I thought you might bring that nice gentleman you danced with at Will and Cally’s wedding. That friend of yours… Max, what’s his name? Sam something or other.”
“You don’t want me bringing Sam Bradshaw to a family brunch,” Liz says next to me, scowling at her food.
“Why not?” her mother objects.
Hanna bites back a smile.
“He really likes you, Liz,” I tell her, not for the first time.
“You’re blushing!” their little sister Abby says. “You never blush!”
“It’s hot in here,” Liz grumbles.
Across from me, Maggie moans softly. “These potatoes. Oh my God! Mom, I had no idea you had it in you.”
“She let me cook today,” Granny says. “That’s how food is supposed to taste.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out to see a message from Meredith. Can you come get Claire? A client has an emergency.
“A haircut emergency?” Liz says, shamelessly reading from my phone. “Whatever.”
Who knows if it’s true or if Meredith just knows that this is my time with Hanna’s family.
“My apologies, Gretchen.” I stand and slide my phone back into my pocket. “I need to get my daughter. Her mother has to work.”
Hanna stands. “I’ll give you a call later.”
I’ll give you a call. Not, I’ll see you.
She kisses me on the cheek, and I stop her before she can pull away. I press my mouth to hers. It’s not a long kiss or a passionate one—her family is right here—but it’s firm and sure and right. It’s everything my love for her is.
I SCRATCH out the last four lines on the page, pushing the pen so deep it cuts through the paper. I’m working on this collaboration with Asher and I’m stuck on the ballad.
All week, all I’ve been able to think about is Hanna moving in with Max, Hanna waking up next to Max, Hanna raising my babies with Max.
It’s a good thing Collin is here. Otherwise, I probably would have already left Asher’s in favor of getting trashed in a hotel room somewhere.
I stare at the marked-out lyrics and then throw the notebook across the room.
“What did that notebook ever do to you?”
I’m probably scowling when I look up at Maggie, but scowling is pretty tame considering how I’m feeling right now. How I’ve felt all week.
“She’s having my babies and she’s marrying him.” I can tell by her face that this isn’t news to her. Fuck. Of co
urse not. “What am I supposed to do with that?”
She plops into a chair across from me and folds her legs under herself. “Asher told me that he warned you to stay away from her.”
“I don’t need a lecture tonight, Maggie.”
“Asher also told me that ignoring a friend’s wishes for a girl wasn’t like you. But something about Hanna made you do it anyway.”
I lean my head back and look at the ceiling, remembering that night, remembering her body moving against mine as we danced, the pitch in her voice when she asked me to kiss her. “She’s my kryptonite.”
“You’re such a dork.”
“Are they really moving in together?”
Maggie frowns. “Isn’t that what people do when they get married?”
But Hanna said she wasn’t moving forward until after the babies were born, and I hoped that meant… “Does she really love him?”
She picks at the seam of her jeans, and just when I think she’s going to avoid answering the question altogether, she says, “I don’t know Hanna as well as Liz does, so maybe I’m not the one to ask, but she’s going through a really hard time right now. She spent her whole life believing she was undesirable because no one noticed her, and no one noticed her because she hid in the shadows, and she hid in the shadows because she didn’t think anyone would want her.” She lifts her eyes to mine. She’s trying to read me. To decide if I’m worth her interpretation of the truth. To decide if I’m worthy of Hanna.
“What does all of that have to do with Max? With me?”
Maggie shakes her head and gives a sardonic smile. “Men,” she mutters. “Of course you don’t get it.”
“Enlighten me.”
“She doesn’t even know who she is anymore. Her whole perception of herself has been blown to pieces because now two great guys want her. And to answer your question? Yes. She loves him.”
I tear my eyes away from her and grab my guitar because I need something to do with my hands.
