Chapter 16
sixteen
. . .
Bennett
I wake up to the smell of coffee and something burning.
My eyes snap open. For a second, I'm disoriented, the light is wrong, the sounds are different. Then I remember. Hannah's here. She lives here now. This is our home.
I sit up and listen. Music drifts down the hallway, something upbeat and pop that I'd never choose but somehow fits perfectly. There's a clatter of dishes, a muttered curse, then Hannah's laugh, bright and unguarded.
I smile before I'm fully awake.
The house feels different. Alive. Like it's been holding its breath for years and finally remembered how to exhale.
I pull on sweatpants and pad barefoot down the hallway. The hardwood is cool under my feet, but the air smells like home, coffee, toast, and something distinctly Hannah. Vanilla and citrus. It's everywhere now. In the bathroom. On my pillows. Woven into the fabric of every room.
When I reach the kitchen, I stop in the doorway.
Hannah's standing at the stove in one of my Yale t-shirts and nothing else, her hair piled messily on top of her head.
She's dancing, hips swaying, shoulders moving to the beat, while she flips what looks like a very burnt pancake.
There's flour on the counter. Batter splattered on the stove.
A carton of eggs sitting open beside the sink.
It's chaos.
It's perfect.
She turns and catches me watching. Her face lights up. "Morning."
"Morning." I cross the room and wrap my arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss to her temple. "What are you making?"
"Pancakes. Or trying to." She gestures at the pan with the spatula. "Turns out I'm not great at this."
"I can see that."
She elbows me lightly. "You're supposed to lie and tell me they look amazing."
"They look... ambitious."
She laughs, leaning back against my chest. "I wanted to surprise you with breakfast. But I think I'm better at making coffee than actual food."
"You're perfect." I turn her around to face me, cupping her face in my hands. "Burnt pancakes and all."
She smiles, her eyes soft. "You're biased."
"Completely." I kiss her, slow and deep, tasting coffee and morning and home.
When I pull back, she's looking at me like I hung the moon. "What?"
"Nothing." She touches my face, her thumb brushing over my jaw. "I just really love you."
My chest tightens. "I really love you too."
We eat the burnt pancakes together at the kitchen island, laughing about how bad they are, and I realize this is what I've been missing. Not perfection. Not control. Just this. Her. Us. Building something real.
"Jake invited us over for dinner tonight," I say later that afternoon, watching Hannah arrange books on the living room shelf. She's been reorganizing all day, humming to herself.
She turns, surprised. "Jake?"
"My best friend. Owns the mechanic shop in town." I lean against the doorframe. "He recently married Brittany. I think you'd like her."
Hannah's face lights up. "I'd love that. What time?"
"Six. Casual."
"Perfect." She crosses to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. "I'm excited to meet your friends."
"They're excited to meet you too." I kiss the top of her head. "Fair warning, Jake's going to give me hell about you."
She grins. "Good. I want to hear all the embarrassing stories."
We pull up to Jake's house just before six. It's a modest two-story on the edge of town, with a detached garage that's clearly seen more love than the house itself. Tools are organized on pegboards visible through the open bay door. A motorcycle sits partially disassembled in the driveway.
"He works on bikes too?" Hannah asks as we climb out.
"Anything with an engine." I take her hand. "He's been trying to get me to buy a motorcycle for years."
"Have you?"
"No. I like having all my limbs intact."
She laughs as we reach the front door. Before I can knock, it swings open.
Jake stands there grinning, wearing jeans and a faded Metallica t-shirt. He's built like he spends his days under cars, broad shoulders, strong arms, perpetual grease stains on his hands no amount of scrubbing removes completely.
"About damn time," he says, pulling me into a quick hug before turning to Hannah. "You must be the woman who finally got this uptight bastard to relax. I'm Jake."
Hannah laughs, shaking his hand. "Hannah. And he's not that uptight."
"You should've seen him six months ago." Jake steps aside, letting us in. "Brittany! They're here!"
A woman appears from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She's petite with dark hair pulled into a messy bun, wearing leggings and an oversized sweater. Her smile is warm but slightly nervous.
"Hi! I'm Brittany." She extends her hand to Hannah. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Jake talks about Bennett constantly."
"All good things, I hope," Hannah says.
"Mostly." Brittany grins. "Come on, I'll give you the tour while these two catch up."
The women disappear down the hallway, and Jake immediately turns to me. "Dude. She's gorgeous."
"I know."
"And she seems normal. Like, actually normal." He heads toward the kitchen. "How the hell did you manage that?"
"I spilled coffee on myself."
He stops, turning. "What?"
"She works at Brewed Awakening. I've been going there for months. One day another customer bumped into her and she spilled an entire latte on my suit." I follow him into the kitchen. "I looked up, and..."
"And you were done for," Jake finishes, pulling two beers from the fridge. He hands me one. "I can see it on your face, man. You're completely gone for her."
"Yeah." I take a drink. "I am."
He studies me for a moment, then grins. "Good. You deserve this."
We move into the living room just as Hannah and Brittany return, already laughing about something.
"Your house is beautiful," Hannah says to Brittany.
"Thanks. It's a work in progress." Brittany sits on the couch, tucking her legs under her. "Jake keeps promising to fix the upstairs bathroom, but somehow the garage always takes priority."
"Hey, that transmission rebuild was important," Jake protests, dropping into the armchair.
"More important than a working shower?"
"The shower works. It just... drips a little."
Hannah laughs, settling beside me on the loveseat. Her hand finds mine automatically.
"So," Jake says, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eye. "How's she treating you? She breaking all your rules yet?"
I groan. "Don't start."
"Oh, this is going to be good," Hannah says, grinning.
"This man," Jake points at me, "used to have a schedule for everything. Breakfast at seven. Gym at six. Dinner at eight. No deviation. Ever."
"I liked structure," I mutter.
"You were a robot." Jake looks at Hannah. "Please tell me you've loosened him up."
Hannah's grin widens. "We had breakfast at nine last Sunday."
Jake's jaw drops. "Nine? In the morning?"
"Shocking, I know," I say dryly.
"Dude, that's character development." Jake claps me on the shoulder, his grin genuine. "I like her. She's good for you."
Brittany laughs. "Jake, leave him alone. I think it's sweet."
"It's weird," Jake says, but he's grinning. "Good weird. I like it."
We move back to the living room. Brittany disappears into the kitchen to check on dinner, and Hannah follows to help.
Jake waits until they're out of earshot, then leans closer. "You're going to marry her."
"Yeah," I say quietly. "I am."
"When?"
"Soon." I glance toward the kitchen, where I can hear Hannah and Brittany laughing. "I'm just figuring out how to ask."
Jake grins. "About damn time you settled down. I was starting to think you'd marry your briefcase."
"Shut up."
"I'm serious. You're different with her. Lighter." He takes a drink of his beer. "It's good to see."
From the kitchen, I hear Brittany say something, and Hannah's laugh rings out, making me smile.
Jake notices. "You've got it bad."
"Yeah." I don't bother denying it. "I really do."
We leave around nine, Hannah hugging Brittany goodbye and promising to meet for coffee soon.
In the truck, she's quiet for a moment, staring out the window.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Yeah." She turns to me, smiling. "I really like them. Brittany's amazing."
"She is. They're good people."
"Jake loves you a lot. I can tell."
"We've known each other our whole lives. He's more like a brother than a friend."
Hannah reaches over, taking my hand. "Thank you for bringing me tonight. It felt... normal. Like I belong here."
"You do belong here." I lift her hand, kissing her knuckles. "You belong with me."
She's quiet for a moment. "I'm really happy, Bennett."
My throat tightens. "Me too."