Chapter 3
TRAVIS
Well, that didn’t go as planned.
I stand in my dining room, it’s the only room in the house on the bottom floor with a window that looks out toward where Hannah is staying, and stare toward the quiet home next door.
There hasn’t been any movement, except the occasional light turning on and off in different rooms. I’ve been in Martha’s house only a few times, but it’s enough that I can guess where Hannah is and what she’s doing.
In the kitchen, in the living room, and finally upstairs in one of the bedrooms.
When all the lights go off at eight, I assume she’s gone to bed. Something I should seriously consider doing. We have an early morning practice before the team leaves in the afternoon for a game in Seattle tomorrow night.
I need to go to bed and forget about my neighbor. Instead, I pull up a chair.
I feel bad and I feel…intrigued. She’s sexy and assertive and I think I’m in love. For the first time in months, I’m excited about someone. Unlucky for me that someone hates my guts.
I’ve come back from worse. I’m nothing if not persistent when it comes to getting something I want.
Which means, I need a plan.
I call Ruby first.
She answers before the second ring. “Hey, Trav. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I have a quick question for you.”
“Me?” The hesitation in her tone is warranted, I suppose.
Ruby and I are tight, but I don’t regularly call her for advice.
Actually, I don’t call anyone for advice.
I’m more of a figure it out on my own kind of guy.
That being said, I love putting myself in the middle of other people’s problems, so I guess it was only a matter of time before the tables turned.
“Yeah.” A light flicks on next door. The same bedroom as last time. She must be staying in that room. Fuck, I sound like a stalker.
“O-kay.”
My pulse races when Hannah comes into view.
She’s changed from earlier and is in a long T-shirt that either covers her shorts or she isn’t wearing any.
Her long, blond hair is down, and she holds her phone in front of her in a way that looks like she might be video calling someone. Boyfriend, maybe? I hope not.
“Is love at first sight a thing?”
There’s a beat before my best friend’s girlfriend asks, “Excuse me?”
“You’re an expert on love and romance, so I trust your judgment.” And I’m desperate for an answer. If I called anyone else, they’d laugh at me.
But not Ruby, she deals in happily ever afters for a living. “I don’t know about love love, but yes, I think you can have chemistry with someone from the moment you lock eyes.”
I knew it.
I hear her and Nick whispering in the background but I’m too distracted watching the girl next door.
She’s beautiful but that isn’t it. I felt a connection with her in those short minutes before she found out I was the one who had the cops called.
In my defense, she was going in through a window.
But that’s neither here nor there. It was a misunderstanding that I plan to fix.
“Why?” Ruby asks, pulling my attention back to the phone.
The light clicks off again, stealing Hannah from view.
“Because I just met my new neighbor and I’m pretty sure I’m in love.”
A steely sort of resolve makes my earlier nerves calm.
There’s silence on the other end of the phone. No doubt, Ruby and Nick are sharing matching skeptical expressions. Maybe I am overreacting, but Hannah is the first person I’ve been excited about in months. Maybe it isn’t love, but it’s something.
The next morning, Hannah’s Jeep is still in the driveway when I wake up.
I packed last night, so I shower and eat quickly, then load up all my stuff in my SUV.
I have an hour before I need to be at the rink for practice and just enough time for my plan.
I say a silent prayer that Hannah isn’t gone before I get back.
Fifteen minutes later, I sigh with relief as I pull back into my driveway. Goodies in tow, I head for my new neighbor’s front door. My nerves climb with every step. It’s an excited sort of anxiousness. Last night, we got off on the wrong foot but I’m going to make this right.
I knock and then wait. The house is quiet and as far as I can tell there aren’t any lights on.
She mentioned early training, so I don’t think she’s still sleeping.
I turn back to her Jeep. Could she have gotten a ride from someone else?
There’s a little niggling voice that pipes up, Maybe her boyfriend picked her up.
She very well could have a boyfriend. In fact, if she doesn’t, then it’s a miracle.
It should deter me, but I tell myself that regardless of whatever connection I felt to her yesterday, this is about righting a wrong.
After knocking again then waiting another thirty seconds, I hit the doorbell. It’s loud. Some sort of upbeat musical melody goes on for so long I wonder if it’s broken. No sooner than it finally ends, the door swings open.
Breath whooshes out of my lungs as my gaze lands on Hannah. My skin buzzes and my mouth pulls into a dopey smile before I’ve even realized it.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, eyes bleary like she might have been sleeping. Her hair hangs over her shoulders and she’s still in a long T-shirt. The material is so thin I can now confirm that she is wearing shorts. Little black ones.
“Hello?” Her voice has risen in volume and in annoyance level.
I clear my throat. “Good morning. I brought you breakfast.”
“Why?”
“A peace offering. I’m sorry about…everything.”
She stares at the coffee cup and brown bag in my hands but makes no move to take either.
“No.”
“No?” I’m losing a little more of the confidence I walked over here with.
Her eyes are a brown that’s identical in color to my perfect coffee order.
A splash of cream and a little sugar. Not too much of either but enough to take off the bitter edge.
A rich, warm golden brown. I took a chance that she liked hers the same way, though it seems I may never know. Or she may dump it over my head.
“You’ve done enough. Coffee and…” Her gaze flits to the paper bag.
“Apple turnover.” Another one of my favorites.
Her brown eyes come more alive with every second. “It won’t fix anything.”
“I’m sorry.”
There’s a flicker of something in her expression. I think deep down she wants to forgive me, but she’s still too pissed.
I set the coffee and bag down in front of her and step back.
Damn. It’s been so long since I saw a woman like this.
Mussed. Bedhead, crumpled, no makeup, not done up at all.
I love women all done up but it’s this version that I miss the most. Undone, unfiltered, genuine in a way that almost no one is today.
“The offer for dinner is still open anytime,” I say.
She moves to close the door again, but I think I detect the tiniest of smiles before she shuts it in my face.
“Love at first sight?” D-Low arches a brow as he glances at me from across the table. We’re on the team jet heading home from a game in Seattle. As is often our tradition, me, D-Low, Shep, Galaxy, and Penn are playing cards.
“I think it’s time to end the dating strike,” Nick says.
“Cleanse. Not a strike.” I’ve been in a sort of self-imposed slump.
“What’s the difference?” Shep asks.
“A strike sounds like I’m refusing to date to gain something.”
Amusement tips up the corners of his mouth. “And a cleanse?”
“I’m ridding myself of unhealthy toxins.”
“So women are toxic?” Penn asks with a dry tone that either indicates he doesn’t agree or is still struggling to understand what the hell I’m talking about. Since he hasn’t dated anyone in more than a year, I’m guessing it’s the latter.
“No. I am the problem.”
“Heard,” D-Low mutters.
I ignore him and continue, “I’m in a pattern. I meet a girl, we go out a few times, and then one or both of us gets bored and I move on.”
“That’s just dating,” D-Low says. We’re the most alike in our relationships—as in, neither of us have done anything serious lately.
“It’s exhausting.”
“You’re twenty-six. You’re too young to be tired of dating,” Penn says, still sounding half bored.
“Twenty-seven next month.” Nick pipes up.
“Oh, that’s right. Are you still doing a Vegas trip?” D-Low asks.
“Yeah. Me, you, and Shep are in. Penn and Galaxy hate fun.”
“Sorry, man. Aidan has a game that weekend,” Nick says.
“I know. I’m just giving you shit.”
We all look to Penn.
“Oh, I don’t have anything going on,” he says. “I just hate fun.”
He’s full of shit. I happen to know he’s playing in a charity game that weekend, but I suppose he has his grumpy, fun-hating reputation to uphold.
“Can we go back to the love at first sight thing?” Shep asks. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea of you being in love, let alone believing you’re in love with someone after only seeing them for five seconds.”
“Rude,” I say with no real bite in my tone. I get it. I’m not the guy who waxes poetic about love and relationships. But it isn’t like I’ve purposely avoided either.
“It was more than five seconds.” I think. To be honest I sort of blacked out. It could have been minutes or hours, maybe days. “I don’t know how to explain it. There was just something there.”
“Attraction,” D-Low suggests. “Love at first sight is a gimmick for bad romantic comedies and Valentine’s Day cards. What you experienced was intense attraction to a super hot chick.”
Perhaps attraction is the simplest answer, but I’ve been attracted to people before and not had this gut-wrenching, heart palpitating response.
It was like…I couldn’t breathe. I’ve never had that strong of a reaction to someone.
Not even the hottest of hot women I’ve met.
Hannah is gorgeous but I refuse to believe what I felt was only an attraction to her.
I don’t push though because I’m sure the guys would only think anything I say is further proof that I’m not thinking clearly.