Chapter 22 #2
“I thought you were majoring in economics,” Ryan questions without malice. He’s genuinely curious.
“I was.” I nod. “I planned on becoming a stockbroker.”
I see Hannah shift in her seat uncomfortably. I don’t mind answering questions, but some answers belong just to her.
“Isn’t that what you are, Danny?” Carson asks, pointing his finger at the man.
“No, I’m an accountant.” He says furrowing his brow and shaking his head.
“Same difference. You are both number nerds,” Carson jokes, tossing peanuts into his mouth.
“Logan isn’t looking much like a nerd right now,” Beck mumbles.
I’m sure my ripped jeans and combat boots are a step away from Danny’s pressed slacks and oxfords. I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes in response.
“So, why the change?” Ryan asks, still trying to steer the conversation in a safe direction.
I shrug. “I fell behind in my classes and no longer qualified to start my internship that fall. I decided to take time off and then realized that being a ‘number nerd’ didn’t make me as happy as it should have,” I say with air quotes.
Nothing was making me happy then. My dad had pushed me towards economics because I excelled in math, and he thought it would give me financial security. I was no longer that interested in what my family wanted for me.
Hannah sits quietly, fiddling with her nails.
Dickhead Danny keeps playing with her hair, looking far too comfortable to be her ex.
They’re definitely still sleeping together.
I shove that mental image aside and grab another shot that seems to appear out of nowhere.
Tequila’s never been my drink of choice, but I need all the liquid courage I can get if I’m going to stay here.
“Tell me about yourself, Danny,” I say like I’m about to interview him for a job.
Hannah pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs.
“Sure. I moved to Toronto about five years ago when an opportunity came up to become a corporate accountant with a large not-for-profit there. It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
Danny rattles on about his responsibilities and how rewarding it is. I’m sure he’s a great guy, but I can’t bring myself to like him.
“Wow, those are some amazing achievements,” I interrupt with more sarcasm than necessary, but it goes right over his head. “Your parents must be very proud.”
I look over at Hannah who is sitting up straight in her chair, her eyes grow big, and she mouths, “Stop it!”
I narrow my eyes at her. She glares back. I smirk. She quickly kicks my shin under the table. Ouch, that was rude.
I keep my eyes on her as she stares down at the tiny glass of amber liquid in front of her.
She picks it up, locking eyes with me before raising it to her lips.
She pauses for just a moment before throwing it back in one clean motion.
Without missing a beat, she grabs a lime wedge and sucks it into her mouth, to help chase away the burn.
She glares at me as she licks her lips slowly to wipe any traces left behind. Fuck that was hot.
“Damn,” Carson says, laughing. “It’s not very often you participate in shots, Hannah.”
“It’s not very often I feel the need to,” she replies, breaking eye contact with me.
“I love this song.” Beck jumps up from her chair and begins to shimmy in place.
Claire stands and sways her hips to the beat while Megan laughs at both of them. I haven’t been paying attention but it is clear that they are both feeling good.
“Here we go,” Ryan mutters, as he watches Beck closely. “Do us all a favour and try not to go all Coyote Ugly tonight, yeah?”
“You just dated yourself, pretty boy. I was like five when that came out, but I’ll try to be a good girl.” Beck blows him a kiss, as she turns on her heel and drags Claire towards the dance floor to where a group has started line dancing to A Bar Song.
It’s only then that I realize that much of the crowd is wearing cowboy boots including Beck and Claire. Since when did Bob’s have line dancing?
“Coyote Ugly? Pretty boy? What’s that about?” I ask Ryan who’s glaring at the back of Beck’s head.
“Beck has been known to occasionally dance on stages, tables, bar tops or just about any other available high surfaces and generally do anything she can to piss Ryan off when she’s been drinking,” Carson explains with a laugh as he stands and claps my back.
“Is there something going on between you two?” I point between Ryan and Beck.
“Not in this lifetime. She is the true definition of trouble,” he says as he continues to watch her stomp, kick, and clap on the crowded dance floor with Claire by her side.
Everyone is now hooting and singing along to Fake I.D. by Big and Rich. It couldn’t be me – I would be tripping over my feet out there.
Hannah stands and puts her hand on Danny’s shoulder.
Leaning down, she whispers, “I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”
He looks up at her and smiles. “I’ll wait here.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Meg asks already standing.
“No, you go dance and I’ll meet you out there in a bit.” Hannah takes off towards the restrooms on the other side of the bar.
Carson has been watching Megan all night, so I’m not surprised when he follows her towards the dance floor. However, I am surprised by the cowboy hat that has magically appeared on his head. Where did that come from? Riot and Danny chat while Ryan continues to scowl. Alrighty then.
“I’m going to grab another drink from the bar. Can I grab another pitcher for the table?”
“A pitcher of water,” Ryan grumbles as he watches the girls dancing across the crowded room.
“Okay,” I drawl, glancing at Riot.
He shrugs his shoulders in response. Well, that’s helpful.
I don’t even ask Danny what he wants because fuck that guy.
“Water it is. I’ll be right back.”
I have every intention of going straight to the bar.
I really do but somehow, I veer to the left and end up walking right by and down the hallway towards the bathrooms and Hannah.
I would follow her right in there but boundaries and all.
While I wait, I look at all the Polaroid pictures of the bar patrons that have been pinned to the walls over the years.
There are a lot of memories on this wall, and I wonder if there are any of Hannah.
A few minutes go by, the door opens, and a group of giggling women appear eyeing me up speculatively as they pass. I promise I’m not a creep lurking by the bathrooms. I continue to lean against the wall across from the door, so I don’t miss her.
Hannah walks out and meets my eyes with surprise. Her hair is now tied back into a high ponytail and her lip gloss has been reapplied. God, she’s so beautiful, even in this poorly lit hallway.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, looking from me towards the entrance and back again.
“Waiting for you.” I take a step forward, crowding her back against the wall.
“Why?” Her green eyes search mine in confusion.
“I just wanna talk.” I rest my right hand on the wall beside her head and lean in.
She smells so good, like the pomegranate and citrus bubble bath she used to love so much.
“Not now, Logan. You have been drinking and I’m on a date.”
She looks away, avoiding further eye contact with me. Can’t have that. With my hand cupping her cheek, I guide her so she can meet my eyes. For a fleeting moment I feel her lean into my touch as her eyes drop to my lips and back again.
“Do you still love him?” I blurt out without thinking.
Way to destroy a moment moron.
“What?” she asks, shaking her head in confusion. “Who, Danny? Not that it’s any of your concern, but we are just friends.”
“Friends that fuck?” I can’t help myself, I have no filter, and I need to know.
She jerks away from my hand like I slapped her, her green eyes now wide.
“Logan! Who I sleep with is none of your business,” she whisper yells, looking around to see if anyone is watching.
She places her hands on my chest, slowly gathering the fabric of my shirt before releasing it to push me away. My skin heats and tingles with awareness.
“Is he staying at your place tonight?” I question.
Apparently, I want to hurt my own feelings.
“What’s your problem? I don’t even recognize you anymore, Logan. I remember the boy you once were, but I don’t know the man you have become. The tattoos, the motorcycle, how you look, how you smell. This is all too much.” She ducks out from underneath my arm.
I turn to face her again resisting the urge to pull her back to me.
“We both grew up, Hannah, but you can’t tell me that your heart doesn’t recognize mine. That you don’t feel the pull between us. Please don’t leave with him.”
I’m not afraid to beg. I can’t stand the thought of her spending the night with that guy.
“You are unbelievable. How dare you waltz back into my life like no time has passed and have the audacity to make demands. I don’t owe you anything.” She points a finger in my face as she steps away.
“I don’t even know why you care?”
“I never stopped caring, Hannah,” I confess, stepping towards her, trying to close the distance.
“Well, you had a funny way of showing it.” Shaking her head, she turns and walks away.
I watch her weave through the crowd to the dance floor where her friends are dancing to Burn it to the Ground by Nickelback. She joins seamlessly into the choreography like our conversation never even happened.