You're Dangerous

by Casey McMillin

  "I was hoping you had some ideas since you know more about this place than me."

  "We could sit out on the patio, but I can't promise we'll be left alone."

  Cam shrugged. "I'm never left alone."

  "Let's just grab one of the tables in the hall," she said. "Nobody will mess with us there."

  Hannah's nerves were out of control as she led the way to the table she had in mind. She took a few more calming breaths as she walked and hoped for the best with being able to keep herself from shaking or otherwise making a fool of herself when she talked to Cam.

  She found the table for two in the mostly deserted hall, and sat in one of the seats. Cam followed suit, pulling out his chair and taking a seat. "This is the craziest table I've ever seen," he said, running his hand across the top.

  Like all of the tables at Common Grounds, it was one of a kind, and this particular one was one of Hannah's favorites. It was a set of lace underwear—bra and panties—that had been nailed to the top of the wooden table. Even the nails were part of the effect, with some of them sticking out at odd directions and bent in half. The artist used resin to shellac the lovely lingerie art piece in place. The resulting tabletop was sort of bumpy, but because the resin was so thick, it was totally sealed and wipeable just like any other tabletop.

  There were other tables in the dining room with random things imbedded in them, but she was partial to the bra and panties. "I know. I love our tables," Hannah said. "Have you ever been here before?"

  Cam nodded. "I came with Jason a time or two, but we didn't stay."

  "I'm surprised you came in at all. If I were as famous as you I would just use drive-throughs. I saw all the trouble you went through to make it in the door a minute ago.

  Cam gave her a gangsta smile. "Watch yo mouth, girl. I live for that shit."

  Hannah laughed and shook her head.

  Cam stared at her for a few really long seconds. She was tempted to speak, but didn't really know what to say and ultimately decided to hold her tongue.

  "So you work at a coffee shop, huh?" He crossed his arms and regarded her as if he was trying to figure something out.

  "Yep, I was sort of working just now when you walked up."

  "I was just trying to understand what had my boy Jason all tied up."

  Hannah was really excited to hear Jason's name but tried not to act like it.

  "Oh so you think it's impossible that he likes a girl who works at a coffee shop?"

  "No," he said with a look that told her she was being a little sensitive, "I didn't say that at all."

  Hannah thought for a second before she spoke again. "What can I help you with then?" she asked. "If you're wondering about that song, I don't care if you use it or not. He wrote it, and he wants it to be sung, I'm sure."

  "I'm not worried about the song," he said. "I already got him to agree to let me have it—for doing this, actually."

  She narrowed her eyes at him. "Doing what? Coming here to talk to me?"

  Cam smiled as he regarded Hannah. He could see what Jason saw in her. She had a certain spark that most other girls lacked.

  "What?" she asked, snapping him from his thoughts. "Did he make you come here to talk to me?"

  "Nobody makes me do anything I don't want to do. He asked me to come here, yes, but what I'm about to tell you is from me."

  Her heart started pounding the second he said what I'm about to tell you. What could he possibly have to tell her? She was dying to know.

  "Wh-what do you need to tell me?" she stuttered, trying to get the words out too fast.

  Cam took a deep breath and stared at her as he thought.

  Hannah was so anxious to know what he was going to say that every second felt like an eternity. "What's going on? Is he okay?"

  It had only been a few seconds, and Cam smiled at how anxious she was.

  "No, he's not okay," he said. He meant it in a different way than she was thinking, but he couldn’t resist messing with her.

  Worry instantly took over her expression even though Cam had been smiling the whole time.

  "I've known Jason for two years. It doesn’t seem like a long time, but let me assure you, we've had our experiences during that time."

  Hannah held her hands up. "I'm sure you have," she said, "but please spare me the details."

  "He's one of the most predictable people I know," Cam continued, "He does some crazy shit, don't get me wrong, but he's predictable with his craziness, if that makes any sense."

  Hannah nodded, encouraging him to continue.

  "All I can say is that none of us saw you coming. I think Jason's more surprised than any of us."

  "About what?"

  "About you."

  "What about me?"

  "Well, isn't it obvious? He loves you."

  Some sort of wonderful, skin-tingling emotion overcame Hannah.

  Keep a straight face, Hannah.

  "Did he tell you that?"

  "No but it's obvious." Cam regarded her again as if he was judging her level of appeal. "I just can't understand how it happened so quickly."

  Hannah didn't understand that either. She hadn't dared even think that word, but now that he brought it up she realized she felt the same way. She could only hope he was right about Jason.

  "Is that what you came by to tell me? That in you're opinion, Jason loves me, and you can't understand how?"

  "I mean, I guess. I'm not trying to be mean or anything, but you have to understand, Jason's not really like that."

  "I thought he had something for six years with that girl who stabbed my tires," she said.

  Hannah did not want to hear about Reagan, but for whatever reason, she felt like she needed to bring it up.

  Cam laughed. "He did have something with her, but it wasn't what you're thinking."

  "How do you know what I'm thinking?"

  "Because it's what every girl thinks. You think he had feelings for her. Girls always think feelings have to be involved." He paused. "I can assure you Jason did not have feelings for her. Did he have something with her for however many years? Yes. Was it feelings? No."

  His explanation actually made her feel a little bit better even though she just kept thinking the word holes over and over again when she thought of Reagan.

  "He's not gonna take no for an answer. I'll tell you that right now."

  Hannah had been spacing out, thinking about Reagan, so she had to take a minute to think about what he was saying.

  "You mean from me?"

  "What else do you think I mean? Of course from you. I'm just telling you right now, he is the most determined person I've ever met. You better get ready for a fight if you're thinking about breaking up with him."

  "I already broke up with him."

  Cam smiled and pushed back in his chair as if to say his job there was done. "Yeah, right."

  "What? I told him it was over."

  He laughed. "You are as bad off as he is. You think I can't see all your little shakiness?" He regarded her, shaking his head. "You jumped a foot out of your chair the first time I said his name."

  The more he said, the more Hannah blushed. She was mortified, but not enough to come out and deny her feelings.

  "I'm just nervous around you because you're a big country music star—you must be used to that."

  "You're a terrible liar," he said. "Jason told me you hate country music."

  "I don't hate country music."

  "It's okay," he said shrugging. "You're not the only hater out there."

  "I don't hate country music," she said. She had to sort of half yell it, because Cam was walking backward down the hall smiling and waving. He turned, and she stared at his back as he walked away.

  In her cartoon imagination, she saw a couple of goons waiting outside the door to walk him to his car, but she could see him through the windows as he walked out of the front door and hung a right presumably to hit the path that takes you to the parking lot in the back. There were no goons to sp
eak of.

  Hannah knew she should be getting back to the register, but she took about thirty seconds to think before she walked up there.

  "I can't believe he came in here looking for you," Anne said when Hannah made her way back to the register.

  It wasn't that busy, and everyone else who was working started to congregate behind the counter to hear the story of why Cam Bishop had come in there two days in a row.

  "I guess I'm hanging out with Jason or whatever, and he wanted to talk about that."

  They'd all heard things about Hannah and Jason, but Hannah had never come right out and said it. She hoped it was still true, that there was still a chance for them.

  "So I guess there's drama if there was an intervention." Nothing had come out of nowhere and chimed in, cutting to the chase as usual. He knew there was drama because he'd been the one she'd talked to when she called in sick the other day.

  Hannah glared at him teasingly. "There's been a little drama," she admitted.

  She didn't say anymore. She just didn't feel like she wanted to. Instead of talking needlessly, she slipped on a pair of thin plastic gloves, and busied herself adjusting the muffins in the display case.

  "Are you still in loooove?" Nothing asked.

  Everyone who'd been listening waited for her answer. She rolled her eyes at him.

  "Probably," she said.

  Chapter 21

  Hannah got off work at one o'clock that afternoon. She made herself an iced latte in a to-go cup, clocked out, grabbed her purse, and took off for her apartment. She wanted so badly to have a call from Jason, and purposefully had neglected checking her phone because she was so nervous about it.

  She wasn't altogether settled on the issue of Reagan and his past, but she missed him like crazy, and right then, she felt like she'd rather deal with his messed up past rather than spend another second apart from him.

  Hannah was in mid-stride walking down the sidewalk when she decided to glance at her phone. She slowed down enough to dig her phone out of her purse with her free hand. She stared down at the screen, slightly confused at the number of messages.

  There were seven missed calls and just as many new voicemails. She stopped walking completely, staring down at the phone dubiously. She was on the sidewalk in front of some random house, but there was no way she wasn't going to investigate. Four of the messages were from numbers she had in her contacts already. She saw her mom, Michael, Taylor and Molly.

  Her mom was the only one of those people who ever called her—the others would usually text if they wanted something. It was especially unlikely that they all decided to leave messages on the same day. What was even weirder was that, intermingled with the messages from her friends, were three voicemails from numbers she didn't recognize. One of them was a Nashville area code, but the other two were completely foreign.

  Before she could start over analyzing the onslaught of voicemails, she pushed the button to listen to the first one and held it to her ear. It was the Nashville number she didn't recognize. Hannah started walking again only to stop in her tracks when she heard the beginning of the message a few seconds later.

  "Hannah," a girl's voice said solemnly, "it's Reagan Dyer." Hannah's heart was in her throat. She stood motionless in the middle of the sidewalk. "I, uh, I just wanted to call and apologize for everything." Hannah could hear her take a deep breath. "I've been warned to stay away from you and Jason." Reagan paused and sniffled, and Hannah could tell she was crying. "I'm not gonna sit here and say I'm happy for you, because I'm not. I'm not happy for you, but I am sorry I was such a bitch about it. I'm not normally like that. You have to expect that when it's about someone like Jason I gu—"

  Hannah heard the beep, and knew the message had been cut off. She wasn't surprised since Reagan had been speaking slowly the whole time. She was glad Reagan hadn't called back to finish what she was saying. She'd heard enough.

  After pressing delete on that message, Hannah started walking slowly, taking a second to think about Reagan and the whole situation. She definitely felt relieved, like a fearful weight had been lifted off her shoulders, but there was an overall yuckiness that went along with hearing Reagan's name and voice.

  Holes, holes, holes.

  Hannah turned her head to the side slightly and tapped her ear, telling herself to "Get that out of your head." It was something she'd been doing since she was a kid. She had countless drawings of herself with her head tilted to the side and words falling out of her ears. It didn't really work, though. She still got nauseated at the thought of Reagan no matter how hard she tried to wish her away.

  She was left feeling bittersweet, and sadly the bitter seemed to be winning out. The next message was from her mom. She left messages all the time, and Hannah figured this one would be standard issue mom stuff.

  "Hey baby," her mom sighed. "I knew something was up when you said you had to replace your tires. I'm really sorry you've had a rough couple of days. You need to tell mama next time, baby." Hannah felt the tears start to well up as she remembered how bad the last few days hurt. She didn't even have time to wonder how her mom knew what was going on until her mom explained, "Jason drove over here really early this morning, sweetheart, I don't know if you knew that." Hannah's heart sped up at the mention of his name. "He brought us to breakfast." She paused. "He's, uh, he's a real, uh. Hannah I don't know how to put this other than, we all love him."

  "Yeah!" her brother's precious little voice said in the background.

  "Honey, I'm not saying you need to settle down or anything," her mom continued, "Believe me, I'm not saying that. But Jason's one of those rare ones, sweetie, and he seems to really like you."

  "Yeah!" Nate yelled again.

  "Anyway, just think about giving him a chance, okay? Love you baby."

  Hannah caught herself forgetting how to walk.

  Jason went to Sparta?

  She immediately pressed play on the next message. It was the one from her friend Molly. Hannah half-expected Molly to say Jason had been to see her too, and smiled at the absurdity of the thought.

  "Hey Hannah Hoo. You're boy Jason came by here just now. I'm here working at my dad's store, and in he walks asking for me by name. He is so freaking hot, Hannah. What the hell? Is that what they're all like in Nashville? Sparta sucks so bad." Molly laughed. "Seriously, Hoo, I'm really stoked for you for finding someone who likes you so much. The hotness is definitely a bonus too. I definitely don't think you should hold past transgressions against him," she said. Then she sighed, "He didn't ask me to say this, but I think he's a really great catch, and I hate to see you screw it up." She could hear the smile in Molly's voice when she said, "Bye babe, love ya."

  Hannah had been walking as she listened, and was in her own driveway when she pushed the button to listen to the fourth message. It was one of the ones with an area code she didn't recognize. Hannah heard what she thought was a piano. She stopped walking again as she strained to hear. It was indeed a piano. It was playing a tune that felt vaguely familiar, but it wasn't until she heard the lyrics that she put it all together.

  "I can't seem to shake you baby, I can't seem to forget your touch, I can't go back once I've tasted, baby. You, you, you, baby you, you, you… you're dangerous."

  Hannah's heart nearly leapt out of her chest when, halfway through the chorus, she figured out who was singing. Jason's song had been slowed down considerably compared to the version he played for her on the boat, but the lyrics were unmistakable, and so was the voice that was singing them. If it wasn't Tom Waits, it was someone who played and sounded just like him.

  Hannah sat her coffee cup and purse down in the middle of the driveway and started the message from the beginning even though it wasn't over. She put the phone to one ear and plugged the other one with her finger.

  She listened to the chorus of her new favorite song again, and when he finished, there was a few seconds of silence before he started speaking.

  "Anyway my name's Tom Waits, and
if I'm learning a song and calling a total stranger to sing it, than I can assure you someone went to great fucking lengths." He laughed that raspy, low laugh. "So, uh, thanks for being a fan, and uh, go ahead and love the guy, okay?"

  She heard the sound of the beep.

  Hannah paced the driveway as she listened to it three times in a row. Holy cow. She could just picture Tom Waits reluctantly leaving a message. Maybe he wasn't reluctant, she told herself. Maybe he thought it was romantic. She thought it was freaking romantic, that's for dang sure. She promised herself she would never, ever in a million years press delete on that message. So far, Reagan's had been the only one she had deleted.

  Hannah went upstairs to her apartment before she listened to the next message. She needed a minute to let Tom freaking Waits sink in. That may have been the coolest thing that had ever or will ever happen to her. Tom freaking-A Waits, calling her phone. She couldn't wait to tell Mr. Nelson at the record shop. He was going to flip his mother humpin' lid. She threw her keys, purse, and coffee cup on the table, but never put her phone down. She held it to her chest as she paced, wondering what in the world could possibly happen next.

  The fifth message was from Taylor. After several minutes of letting the Tom Waits thing sink in, she pressed play to listen to it.

  "Hey Hannah, I wanted to let you know that Jason came by my house last night. I'm sorry I'm just getting a chance to call you. I had to work at that sunrise 10K this morning. I'm spent too, but that's beside the point. I was saying Jason came by last night. He wanted to talk about everything. I told him my account of the girl coming to work. He was seriously pissed at that." She paused. "I guess I just wanted to let you know I think you should give things between you two a shot. And, yes, he told me to tell you that." There was a smile in her voice. "I wouldn't say it unless I thought it were true, though, and I really do think you're great for each other." She paused again. "Call me la—"

  Taylor was cut off by the beep as well, but her message seemed to be over anyway.

  Hannah could not for the life of her understand why she was getting arguments from everyone besides the guy she wanted to hear from the most. Not that she minded listening to the messages—it actually made her feel special that he'd gone to all that trouble—but she was anxious to hear his voice again, and wished one of the messages had been from him.