The principal was a small Latina woman, dressed in a smart pantsuit, her black hair styled in a close-cut pixie. She quickly returned to her side of the desk and took a seat.
“The CBCA Board has received a number of complaints this year and they are going to proceed with an investigation. As such, they have asked me to interview a few of the people mentioned as witnesses in the complaints. Both of you came up a number of times as being present during a few instances. If you would rather we do the interviews separately, we can schedule that.”
Dr. Mendez shifted some papers around on her desk, like she was sorting them.
Hannah turned wide eyes to Johnny, who shrugged in return.
“Uh, complaints?” Hannah asked the administrator.
Dr. Mendez glanced up and folded her hands on top of her desk. “Yes. A number of complaints about Vice Principal Shatford.”
Hannah made a small, satisfied sound in the back of her throat and eased back in her seat.
“Who made these complaints?” Johnny asked curiously, trying to hide a smug smile by rubbing his hand over his chin thoughtfully.
“At this time they wish to remain anonymous.” Dr. Mendez forced a smile. “If it’s all right with you, I only have a few questions for you, and then you can be on your way.”
Hannah relaxed in the chair, her arms hanging loosely on the armrests. “I am happy to help in any way I can.”
Thirty minutes later, Johnny and Hannah were standing at the front door of the school, zipping up their coats to go back into the cold.
“That was way smoother than I thought it would be,” he remarked, still shifting nervously out of habit.
“Right? Maybe evil gets what’s coming to it after all,” Hannah said thoughtfully.
All they’d had to do was tell the truth, Dr. Mendez wrote everything down, and they were free to leave. It didn’t look good for Shatford.
“Do you have to go back to work?” he asked.
“Nope,” she replied, her lips popping with the word. “I got fired today.”
She tugged her mittens on and pushed the door open, leaving him standing there with his mouth open. He hurried after her. The wind whipped through the parking lot and she ducked her head, hurrying to her car.
“Hannah!” he called after her.
She opened her car door and turned to face him.
“It’s cold.” She tossed her bag into the car. “Just call me later. I’ll tell you all about it.”
She got into the car and started it in one motion. Johnny stepped back to get out of her way.
Why did it feel like she was running away from him?
He watched her drive away before he got into his car and started it. He checked the time and decided he’d just wait for Shawn to get out instead of making him take the train. It was incredibly cold.
He sent a text to Shawn, letting him know he was there.
Then he turned on the radio, trying to distract him from thoughts of Hannah.
He didn’t want to think about her unless he could be with her. Because then he could talk to her, hear what she had to say, try not to kiss her…
Everything about that moment came rushing back to him and he inhaled deeply, trying to push it aside.
But he couldn’t.
He’d crossed a line that could never be uncrossed, and now things were different.
The look on her face when she’d walked away from him in the library.
She knew. She knew he had acted on impulse and wasn’t going to hold it against him.
But that was the thing––he wasn’t sure he wanted to be free of it.
For as good as she was always declaring he was, he didn’t feel good about that decision.
Not even a little.
It had been selfish and stupid.
He knew exactly where the blame fell, and there was no going back.
He’d made a choice, and now they both had to live with it.
The question that kept harassing him in the back of his mind was whether or not he wanted to kiss her again.
His body screamed yes in all the languages he knew.
His heart seemed to be on board with that notion as well.
It was his mind he was having trouble making sense of.
Which was why he wanted to talk to her.
Her view, the way she said things, her bold manner, they encouraged him to think for himself. To let go of what he was “supposed” to do and just do what he wanted.
But how could he have an open dialogue with her if she was avoiding him?
And how could he get her to stop avoiding him without him bringing up the very topic he wasn’t ready to talk about with her?
How had this woman become so vitally important to him, and how did she not know it?
HANNAH
She stared at the phone as it rang. Deep remorse filled her chest when it finally stopped ringing.
She didn’t feel good about the lie she’d told him. But she couldn’t look him in the eye for one more minute without saying something stupid.
Cravings were a normal and natural part of an addict’s life.
She just had to ride the wave, and eventually, she’d come out the other side.
It wasn’t his fault. He had no idea that by kissing her it would spark a dangerous hunger. Healthy people were allowed to kiss and love and fuck and satisfy their urges. She’d corrupted those urges a long time ago.
It would take some time, space, and mindfulness.
Johnny would see it eventually.
She’d be more responsible in the future.
But that started here with staying away until she felt strong enough to say no to something she really, really wanted.
Her phone rang again and she tipped her head back, groaning out loud.
Then she put her phone in the silverware drawer where she couldn’t hear it anymore.
Chapter Eighteen
Toxic
HANNAH
She just had to say it out loud. It wasn’t like Brenda didn’t already know. But saying it, the actual words, made it all the more real.
“Just say it,” Brenda prompted gently.
“The herpes…” Hannah said, hearing the sorrow in her voice and being even more confused than before. Why should she be sad? This wasn’t new information! She’d been living with HSV-2 for three years!
“Are you having an outbreak?” Brenda asked gently, her pen hovering over the yellow legal pad.
“No.” Hannah shook her head.
“Have you…had a sexual encounter recently?”
Hannah’s eyes darted up to Brenda’s, but she found no judgment there. Only compassion.
“Johnny kissed me.”
She didn’t miss the ripple of surprised delight that hit Brenda’s face before it smoothed over.
“Was it unwelcome?” Brenda asked.
Hannah’s gaze tracked to the design of the rug on the floor beneath their feet.
Had it been unwelcome?
The kiss that had shaken all of her convictions?
No.
“Shouldn’t it have been?” she whispered. She inhaled slowly and raised her eyes. “I don’t know what to do now.”
That was the most honest statement she’d been able to utter since Johnny had kissed her in the library. In the moment, while it had been happening, she had seemed to know exactly what to do. Where to put her hands, how to move her mouth.
How to walk away.
“Have you spoken to him?” Brenda prodded gently.
“No.” Hannah frowned. “I haven’t answered his calls.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t know what to say.”
“How about the truth?”
“I don’t want to hurt him.”
“And the truth would hurt him?”
Hannah didn’t respond.
But her thoughts were swirling.
How could a conversation with Johnny not hurt?
She had obviously led him
to believe that something could happen between them when that wasn’t possible. She had even asked him to kiss her. Shame flushed fresh through her system as she remembered her begging him to kiss her.
It wasn’t his fault.
He didn’t know what she was capable of.
It was her responsibility to protect others from herself.
“Hannah, can I interrupt your shame spiral for just a moment?”
Brenda recapped her pen and folded her hands on top of her legal pad, leaning forward.
“We’ve been doing this for a while. For more than a year, we’ve been meeting once a week. You have always been very candid with me, so I think you will appreciate it if I am candid with you.”
Hannah nodded once.
“You can have a healthy romantic relationship that includes sex.”
Well, that was candid.
“It’s important to tell him. I would recommend having that conversation before you’re in an amorous condition. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I should have told him before I kissed him.”
“No.” Brenda’s frustration was obvious. “It was a kiss—”
“It wasn’t just a kiss,” Hannah interrupted.
Brenda tilted her head to the side. “It was more than a kiss?”
Hannah huffed a sigh. “Yes. But no.” She ran her hands through her hair and held the crown of her head in both hands. “If it was just a kiss, this wouldn’t be an issue. But it was…more.”
She dropped her hands in her lap helplessly.
“Because you have feelings for him,” Brenda guessed.
“Sure.” Hannah shrugged. “But what good is that?”
Brenda tried to withhold a smile but couldn’t.
“What?” Hannah asked accusingly. “Tell me what I’m not getting.”
“Hannah,” Brenda said seriously. “You’re very lovable.”
Hannah’s face screwed up and she sat back in her chair.
“If Johnny has feelings for you, and you have feelings for him, I don’t see a reason why you can’t discuss that with him.”
Hannah flattened her lips, because the reasons seemed obvious. She could take that legal pad and make a list if Brenda needed reminders. But, as had become the norm, Brenda was already anticipating Hannah’s religious need to sass and she cut right through it.
“I’m going to repeat something I’ve said to you many times. I can’t give you permission to be happy.” Brenda spoke with such authority that Hannah wanted to shrink back.
Tears burned the back of Hannah’s throat and she swallowed.
“But love is dangerous,” she said, her voice rough and raspy.
“Love is a risk,” Brenda agreed. “But you already know who you are. You have agency and self-awareness. You’re not looking to Johnny to complete you or to save you. You’ve been saving yourself for a long time now.”
Hannah stared at her therapist as her words sank in.
“What if I tell him about having herpes and he doesn’t want me?”
It was a stupid excuse, but it was the only one she could articulate.
“Then he’s not the right partner for you,” Brenda answered simply.
JOHNNY
He checked his phone. Again.
No missed calls. No texts. No messages.
He scrolled through social media and typed her name into Google.
But nothing came up.
Irritated with his repetitive actions, he tossed his phone over the railing of the kitchen and onto the sofa in the lower living area. It bounced and landed on the floor.
He stretched and flexed his fingers anxiously, shaking his hands out by his sides before stirring the macaroni.
Yep. He was making comfort foods in the middle of the night because he couldn’t sleep. Baked macaroni. It was one of Shawn’s favorites when he’d been little, one of the only dishes Johnny had been able to make early on.
This was stupid.
The entire situation was absolute bull.
Hannah had been avoiding his calls all week and it was driving him crazy.
He’d left messages, he’d sent texts. All of them had been ignored.
If she hadn’t made solid plans with Shawn to be at the studio on Saturday, he would have driven over to her place and confronted her.
At least that’s what he told himself.
But truthfully, he had no idea.
He didn’t want to force her to talk to him if she didn’t want to.
The very idea of her not wanting to talk to him stung in ways he’d never experienced.
It was strange and beautiful how a person’s thoughts and words could have such a grounding effect on another.
How she could have an effect on him.
But if she didn’t want to talk to him, he couldn’t make her.
But he could make macaroni.
And then he’d eat it like a bear and go back to bed, hopefully to sleep off the lost feeling he had and couldn’t explain.
Distantly, he heard little bells tinkling and froze.
Recognizing his ringtone, he dropped the spoon and dove over the railing to the couch below. He landed with more force than he expected but snatched his phone off the floor, hitting the answer button.
He glanced at the call screen and frowned at Nikki’s name.
“Hello?” he asked with a wheeze, pushing himself back onto the couch and sitting up.
“Did I wake you?” Nikki asked, her voice hushed.
“Nope.” Johnny ran a hand through his hair and stood. “I’m up.”
He couldn’t breathe because he’d knocked the wind out of himself, but he was definitely not sleeping.
“I’m, uh, I’m still at the studio,” Nikki said.
“Why? Is everything okay?” Johnny glanced the direction of the studio as if he could see it through the walls.
“Yeah,” Nikki said, sounding unsure. “I just, I feel like you should know that Hannah is here?”
Johnny took a second to process what Nikki said, and then he sprinted back to the kitchen and shut off the oven and stove top.
“She texted me a few hours ago and asked if she could use the live room to work through some ideas, and I thought it would be okay since you guys seemed to be pretty cool with each other.”
Johnny tugged his shoes on by the front door and grabbed his keys off the hook.
“But she hasn’t really said anything. She’s just sitting at the piano.”
“I’m on my way,” Johnny said, slipping his coat on. “You can take off. Thank you, Nikki.”
“Are you sure?” Nikki asked.
“Yeah. Already have my coat on.”
He hung up and sent a text to Shawn, who was sleeping, just in case he woke up.
The air outside had that cold kind of bite where it stung the inside of his nostrils as he tried to breathe normally. He left, hurrying down the walkway and out the gate, devouring the thirty feet to the front door of his second home.
Nikki opened the door as he approached. She had her coat on and their eyes met.
“Do you want me to stay?” she asked.
“No,” he replied with a smile that he hoped she bought. “We were supposed to get some work done and I just forgot. See you Monday.”
“Okay,” she said, not sounding like she believed him, but also not willing to argue about it.
He waved goodbye and made sure the door was locked behind him before seeking out Hannah.
Why would she be here?
And why would she call Nikki instead of him to let her in?
He was afraid he knew the answer, but he didn’t want to think about it.
She was in the live room of Studio Y.
The one they had spent the most time in so far. None of the lights were on, but the full moon shone through the high windows, bathing the room in a silver glow.
She sat with her back to him at the piano.
On top of the piano was a bottle of wine.
His h
eart squeezed and he paused, taking in the shape of her.
She turned her head slightly.
“Nikki must’ve called you,” she said.
Johnny swallowed. He took off his coat and tossed it in the corner. Then he made his way to the piano bench.
He got closer and saw that the wine was still corked.
And the lack of surprise he felt surprised him.
He broke his attention from the bottle and looked to Hannah, who was watching him carefully.
“Are we rolling tape on this?” he asked with a half smile, trying to gauge her mood.
She smiled, but it was a sad smile. And something else.
“I had a lot of thoughts and I needed to work them out.” She danced the fingers of one hand along the keys and then returned it to her lap.
His worry and building frustration from earlier disappeared, and all he cared about was her.
Her mind, and her heart, and her pulse.
“You want to talk about it?” he asked.
She chewed on her lower lip, hesitating. She let out a soft huff that was almost a laugh but not quite.
“It’s funny, all I’ve wanted this week is to talk to my friend.” She lifted her eyes to him, making her point. “But it was you I wanted to talk about, so…”
He took a deep breath, catching her meaning. An unexpected warmth spread through his chest.
They were friends.
And she had missed talking to him too.
As far as declarations went, it was small.
But significant.
At least for him.
“You can talk to me about me,” he prompted.
“Right,” she replied with an eye roll.
“I’ll get you started.” He squinted one eye like he was thinking. “I have a tendency to be too awesome and completely outshine you. Which, obviously, makes you self-conscious.” Her smile lit him up from the inside.
“You nailed it.” She laughed softly and trailed her fingers over the keys again.
Soft music filled the live room as she played almost absentmindedly. With no direction or end—just gentle notes flowing from her delicate fingers, like her thoughts were on a musical journey of their own.
“I came here because it was the closest I could get to you without actually having to see you,” she said, keeping her hands moving slowly.
Key Change: A Slow Burn Rockstar Romance (Common Threads Book 3) Page 26
