10. Hannah
CHAPTER 10
hannah
I can’t believe I kissed Liam. I’ve never thought about what type of kisser he would be, even if I’ve seen him kissing other girls before. He seemed decent enough, and the man is too good-looking for his own good. He’s bigger than all three of his brothers, which is saying something because they’re all massive genetic freaks. I don’t know what the Hayes were drinking when they procreated, but they made some gorgeous humans. Liam has broad shoulders that I’ve caught myself looking at more often than not over the last two weeks, hair that is such a light brown it could pass for dirty blond, dark chocolate eyes, a strong jaw, chiseled abs from working out at the gym every day, and thick, strong legs. He’s a goddamn beautiful man. I’m not blind for fuck’s sake.
But I wasn’t prepared for how good it would feel to have his lips on mine. The kiss was PG at best. Just a firm press of lips on lips. But dammit to mother above, every single cell in my body woke up from hibernation. Add to that the way he held me close, turning my blood to molten lava from his body heat alone. Just that small peck overwhelmed my senses. The thought of kissing Liam for real? It would be devastating. All-consuming. The kind of kiss that you can’t come back from. Best friend or not.
I focus on eating my garlic pommes frites, savoring every single bite, and dip into the garlic aioli before picking up my falafel banh mi, trying not to think too much into the fact that he ordered my favorite two things off of the menu. But, that kiss. The way he felt against me consumes my thoughts.
I really am desperate for physical touch. But, even on the rare occasion Levi was in town and I gave him my body, it never filled my cup, never left me satisfied. In fact, I often felt worse than I did before. It’s completely different from this feeling ignited by Liam, and I’m struggling to understand it.
“You’re quiet, beauty. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”
Liam’s already done eating, having smashed his gourmet bacon cheeseburger and fries in just a few bites. I peek up from over my sandwich, purposefully having taken a huge bite so I’m not forced to talk. He’s looking at me intently, body illuminated only by the light from the large movie screen in front of us, the dim glow casting shadows across the strong features of his face. He looks almost ethereal—gorgeous, and untouchable. Fuck, what is happening to me right now?
“Spill it.”
I swallow my food down hard and set the sandwich back in the container that’s balancing precariously in my lap. Twisting my lips side to side, I quickly contemplate whether or not to be open. We’ve never kept secrets from each other before, so I’m not going to start now. That’s where relationships go to die, and I wouldn’t survive losing Liam.
“I think I’m touch starved.”
Liam’s face falls flat. Whelp. Not exactly what I had in mind with how to start, but my brain and mouth failed me. Could have started with, hey, this situation is super weird and messing with my hormones, making me feel all sorts of things that I didn’t think were possible. But, no, let’s just drop that bomb on the man who is literally doing everything in his power to keep you on a life raft right now.
“Han . . .”
“Nope. Don’t do that. Do not pity me. I am not?—”
“Made of glass. I know. I guess I just assumed you were, you know.”
“Sleeping with Levi?”
I don’t miss the tick in his jaw or how his hands fist in his lap.
“Yeah.”
“It’s been months. And even longer before that. The last time I was using it as a way to get closer to him, to try to convince him to stay, he, well you know, and as soon as he finished, he couldn’t get off me fast enough, got dressed and told me I was pathetic.” Rage simmers strong behind Liam’s eyes, and I watch as he works hard to tamp it down. I know how much he hates Levi, and I’m sure that sharing that little bit of info could have just signed Levi’s death warrant.
“I get affection from Charlie, but my parents are away, my sisters are never home, and I’m too busy for the friends I used to have. I don’t get physical touch. Certainly not romantic or passionate touch. I don’t even know if I ever have . . .” I return to look down at my food, not wanting to make eye contact, even though Liam is the furthest thing from judgmental. I let out a long deep exhale. “I don’t know if I’ve ever felt really desired. And whatever this is between us right now”—I wave my hand haphazardly through the empty space separating us—“is really messing with my head and my hormones.”
I expect him to speak, to say something in an attempt to cheer me up, instead, my body melts as his large palm slides across my face, gently pulling my head in his direction. I let my eyes flutter open, finding his stormy gaze trained right on me. His expression is a mix of empathy, love, protection, and something that looks a hell of a lot like longing.
“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear it but I’m saying it anyway. I’m sorry. You deserve to be with someone who can’t stand to be away from you for even a minute, who makes sure you know you’re the first thing on his mind the moment he wakes up and the last thing before he goes to sleep. That’s after he’s made you feel it with his body. The right man will make sure you never doubt his love for you, beauty. You should never want for touch because you would feel it constantly.” His fingertips gently caress my scalp behind my ear, and I lean into the feeling of his touch, his words hitting their mark hard. It’s so challenging to believe his pretty words when the actions of that kind of man seem like a fairytale. “Things are going to change, just trust me, okay?” He drops his hand, and I miss the touch immediately.
“I trust you, bear. But I think I may need to find a one-night stand or something to take the edge off or I may end up ruining our relationship by jumping you.”
Liam’s head snaps in my direction so violently, I’m surprised he didn’t pull a muscle. His spine straightens, his hands curling into tight fists. Everything about him right now screams seriously pissed off alpha , a complete contrast to the sweet, tender side I just had.
“The fuck you will, Hannah!”
His reaction surprises me. He’s never told me what I could or couldn’t do and has only ever encouraged me to do what I want.
“Excuse me? You did not just tell me that I can’t sleep with someone if I want to. ”
“I sure as fuck did and I mean every word. Want me to say it again?”
“You can’t be freaking serious right now!”
“You’re my fiancée, Hannah.”
“Fake. Fake fiancée. And I just got done telling you how starved for affection I am. I thought you would understand.”
“And you’re telling me that some random dink you pick up at a bar is going to make you feel better? Did you not hear what I said? About what you deserve?”
He can’t be serious right now.
“Oh, I heard you, bear. Pretty little words wrapped in a bright bow. Those are fantasies. It’s not real life.”
The rage seems to vacate his body, leaving him dejected and morose.
“I’ve known you forever, which means I know everything about you, and I’m telling you right now, a one-night stand is going to make you feel worse. If you need something, I’ll give it to you.”
“Wow,” I say, shaking my head and laughing under my breath. “So, what? You want to pity fuck me, bear? How is that going to make me feel any better than a one-night stand would.”
He moves as fast as lightning and I’m reminded that Liam holds his control at bay, his normal loose, laid-back personality, is just one part of him. He can be just as ruthless and overbearing as his brothers. He grips my chin between two fingers, his other hand curling behind my neck, pulling me toward the center of the truck.
“Listen to me, Han, if you give yourself to me, there won’t be anything about it that’s out of pity. It’ll be because we want each other so fucking bad we can’t go another second without me deep inside you.”
My breath hitches, my heart like a tumbleweed in the wind. My eyes bounce back and forth between his, trying to find meaning behind what he just said.
“I’ve got you and I’m going to teach you how to take what you want, even your pleasure, Hannah. You’ll never want for touch with me, and you’re going to take what you want when you want it. Now, let’s enjoy these movies. This is the best part, and I don’t want you to miss it. You love this scene with all the nuns praying.”
I swallow hard as he releases me, and for the millionth time tonight, I find myself wishing he wouldn’t. Instead of overthinking things, I study my best friend’s face for a moment longer, his strong features, the coarse stubble of his cheeks and jaw. I do trust him, and even though everything he just said confuses the living hell out of me, I pack up the rest of my dinner, setting it behind me in the to-go bag, pull out the blanket, and scoot across the bench seat. Liam lifts his arm automatically, tucking me into his side, and my brain settles almost instantaneously.
I’ve always found peace and comfort with Liam. He’s seen me through my hardest days, held me through ups and downs, and I know that this is just one more thing he’ll see me through. Liam is my rock, at the end of the day, it’s me and him, always has been, always will be.
Sitting in the nurse’s office of my high school sucking on a honey stick is not how I wanted to spend the afternoon when I should be getting ready for Liam’s hockey game. I’ve missed so many of them this season because of work at Bean Haven after school. But here I am, headache, still shaking like a leaf, nauseous, and holding an ice pack to my head from where I hit the lockers as I passed out and crumbled to the ground. I don’t even care about the looks, or how everyone freaked out. I’m grateful no one called an ambulance. I was only out for a moment and Ms. Gagnon knows I don’t take care of myself like I should.
She pulled my blood sugar monitor from my bag, set it up, and checked my levels before giving me a honey stick. She has glucose tabs and gel on hand, but I hate them. Living with reactive hypoglycemia is so fun when you’re too busy to eat, or eat and drink all the wrong things. It’s living in a constant state of having to think about food and I rebel against it. And more days than not, I end up feeling like shit. I’ve only passed out a few times, today being an unfortunate addition, but the symptoms suck when the crash happens.
Ms. Gagnon leaves me to rest and finish my snack when the door opens again, the curtain to my hidey hole ripped open, causing me to jump, followed by a wince as I jerk my head. Liam stands in front of me, red-faced and sweaty, like he ran all the way here. His top half is in his hockey pads and jersey. He moves quickly, sitting next to me on the bed, surveying the damage under the ice pack.
“Where are you hurt? What happened?”
“It’s just my hairline, right here. I hit my head on a locker.”
“Han, you passed out? What have you eaten today?”
I roll my eyes at his overprotectiveness. It knows no bounds.
“Two coffees.”
“And? With what?” He gives me a look that says , you can’t seriously be that dumb . But apparently, I’m proving that I can. Hold my beer.
“Sugar and milk?”
“For the love of God, Hannah, tell me you’ve eaten.”
I hold up the empty plastic that held the honey stick and shrug my shoulders innocently. My attempt at a sweet whoopsie, silly me fails miserably. If possible, Liam’s face turns an even darker shade of red, near crimson, as his eyes squint at me. My eyes widen as I scoot back farther on the bed, nudging his side with my bare foot, trying to put some needed space between us. Liam is so levelheaded, chill, just go with the flow, until he’s mad. Then he’s basically The Hulk.
“Can you walk?”
“Uh, yes?”
“Then put your shoes on and let’s go.”
“What do you mean, ‘let’s go?’” I mock his deep voice, and he shoots me a glare. “You have a hockey game to get ready for. Shouldn’t you already be on the ice for a skate?”
“I’m not going. You need to eat a meal. Can you move your ass, please?”
I stare blankly at my best friend. He can’t be serious right now.
“Bear, I’m fine. I’ll call my parents, in fact, Ms. Gagnon probably already has. You can’t miss your game.”
“I can, and I will. I have stuff to change into in my dad’s truck, let’s get going.”
Liam picks up my backpack as I shift off the bed, slipping into my Converse. He grabs my arm like I’m an invalid, refusing to let me walk on my own in case I suddenly pass out again on him. Once we’re settled into the truck, he drives us to the grocery store where he tells me to stay put and jogs in, returning a few minutes later with deli subs and a bag of BBQ chips. He puts everything in my lap and drives to the outskirts of town, taking a familiar dirt road that leads to Grace Beach.
Liam parks with the bed of the truck facing the ocean and pulls a big blanket from the backseat, opening his door and climbing out.
“Move your ass, Han, get the food and get over here.”
Doing as he says, I set the food down and Liam hauls me into the bed of his huge truck, tossing my sandwich into my lap and snapping, “Eat.”
Opening the white wrapper, I check the contents of my sub and do my best not to give him the satisfaction of my smile. It’s packed with a rainbow of veggies, with a thick layer of spicy, chipotle hummus. Any time I have a hypoglycemic episode, my parents try to force meat down my throat. I’ve been a pescatarian since freshman year of high school. I hate how most meat makes my body feel. I’ll eat fish in small doses but for some reason, land animals make my body feel sluggish and just downright awful.
“Don’t be too excited, there’s some tuna at the bottom.”
“I’m okay with that. Thank you, bear.”
We eat in silence, sitting in the bed of his truck with nothing but the ocean in front and the tall Sitka spruce trees and salty air surrounding us.
“Don’t need to thank me, Han, it’s you and me.”
“You and me.”