Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
When Milo got home, she’d been asleep for hours.
She didn’t register him slipping into the bed behind her, but when she finally did wake, drowning in his warmth and yesterday’s cologne, dread pooled in her stomach.
It was a bad day.
It wasn’t that she thought a new city, or even Milo, could stop the bad days entirely, but without even realizing it, she’d let herself hope they could stave them off for at least a little while.
Hanna’s heart sank as each breath felt harder than the next.
“Morning,” Milo mumbled, half asleep. She rolled in his arms and tucked her head into his chest, his shirt smelling so deeply of him she wished she could wrap herself up in it without tipping him off that she was a pathetic moron. “Sorry we got home so late.”
Hanna didn’t respond. She only buried her face further into his chest.
“I could make it up to you,” he said. Milo’s hands found her beneath the blanket, slipping under the hem of her shorts.
She only had to hesitate for a second for him to snap awake, his voice tightening from half-asleep to deeply troubled.
“You alright?”
Hanna sighed. “It’s just one of those days.”
His hands retreated immediately.
“Sorry—”
“Nope, we don’t apologize for that shit.” Milo slipped out of bed and pulled on his jeans from the night before.
“Where are you going?”
He shrugged, searching for his keys. “You need a bagel and to stay in bed.”
“I’m fi—”
“Banned word.” Milo pulled back the curtains.
“Look, even the Bay thinks it’s a down day.
” The sky drizzled gray over Brannan Street, blanketing it in a foggy haze that felt completely appropriate for the storm developing in her chest. “I’ll be back in twenty.
” He dove back onto the bed, shoving his hands over the blanket to tuck it around her as she giggled.
When he returned with coffee, bagels, and a bouquet of sunflowers, her heart felt less like an anchor and more like a balloon, bobbing happily along between electric lines and branches, as if she’d be able to dodge them indefinitely.
* * *
“What are you reading now?”
Milo flopped onto the couch next to her. He’d been on calls all day, and she’d been avoiding hers with the second installment in the series Sara got her hooked on. She held the cover up so he could see the title.
“Enemies to lovers? Age gap? Shadow daddy? Why choose?”
Hanna held her place with her index finger as she twisted to face him.
“Who taught you these words?”
Milo grinned. “Girl I used to hang out with read a book a day. Loved acting scenes out.”
She tried not to let the pang of jealousy show on her face, but she worried it pinged so loudly off her chest that he heard it. Just friends, she reminded herself.
“It’s none of the above, actually,” she said. “It’s a cozy fantasy—more steam, less spice.”
Milo’s head tilted, a wickedness flashing across his face.
“Getting your other needs met, then?”
She looked up from the page, glaring. “I’m at a really good part.”
Milo backed away, holding his hands up in surrender.
He hopped off the couch and crossed the living room to a stack of books she'd borrowed from Sara when they'd moved her stuff over.
She tried not to watch as he scanned the spines, but the concentration on his face was hard to ignore.
He plucked one from the middle of the stack.
She battled a smile as he reclaimed the spot beside her, laying his head in her lap and cracking open the first book in the series. His eyes flicked from the page to hers.
“So, just to set my expectations correctly, no knotting in this one?”
Hanna giggled. “Not so far. There are two other books, though.”
“Here’s to hoping,” he murmured.
She turned her focus back to her book, the weight of him an anchor as she let the sweet romance sweep her heart away.
She rested one hand on his chest, absently fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.
Her mind wandered back to two years ago, nestled next to Logan on the couch, when she’d crawled her hand over his thigh to reach for his.
She’d just missed him as he moved to answer an email from work.
Milo shifted under her touch. She pulled her hand back, realizing that it wasn’t very just friends of her. He caught her fingers and pressed the back of her hand to his lips before returning it to his chest.
They both stilled.
“Jesus,” he said as he waved the book in the air. “These really are a bad influence, you know that? No wonder they try to ban them.” He set the book on the coffee table and reached for his phone, reading through the notifications. “Ah, shit, I gotta deal with something.”
“Family okay?” she asked, her heart still beating too quickly.
“Fire at work,” he mumbled. “I’ll see you later?”
“Mmhmm,” she said, her eyes glued to the book.
He pulled on a hoodie and took off, and she made it three more pages before she found herself wandering across the hall.
“Well, well, well, look who came up for air,” Sara whispered as she pulled Hanna into the apartment. She braced herself for Logan, but it still hit her when his cologne drifted across the kitchen as he stood in front of the fridge.
“Hey!”
“Hanna Hanna bo banna,” Matty chanted, grabbing her shoulders. “Where’s Milo?”
“Work thing,” she said, waving her hand. “You guys wanna go grab dinner?”
Sara and Matty exchanged a glance as they waited for Logan to answer.
“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Definitely.”
* * *
It really shouldn’t have shocked her when a bouncy redhead chirped her name from two tables over halfway through their dinner.
And yet, Chloe caught her off guard. She leaned forward and said something to the man she was with before hugging him and sending him on his way.
“I’m so glad you guys are here,” Chloe said, pulling a chair up to their table. “That was, hands down, the worst date I’ve ever been on.”
“Oh, no!” Hanna said, moving a basket of chips closer to the end of the table.
“I keep telling myself I’ll stop dating finance bros, but here I am,” she said, laughing as she reached a hand across the table toward Logan. “Hi, I’m Chloe.”
He winced and shook her hand. “Finance Bro,” he said.
Chloe tossed her head back, cackling as Hanna patted her arm. “Chloe, this is Logan, Matty’s brother. Logan, this is Chloe, she works with Milo.”
Sara snorted beside her. Hanna didn’t need her to say it out loud. She knew it was the most politically correct introduction ever made.
“I’m sure you’re not one of those finance bros,” Chloe offered.
Logan shrugged as Hanna sipped her margarita. “I’ve had mixed reviews.”
“Everything’s okay at work then?” Hanna asked.
Chloe pursed her lips. “I… think so?” Confusion laced her answer.
“Oh, I just, uh, Milo has had a few emergencies pop up. I guess I thought you’d be involved.”
Chloe pulled her phone out of her purse, checking her messages.
“I would be. But no, everything seems fine.”
Sara leaned forward. “He might have meant at the bar?”
“Ah,” Hanna breathed. “That makes sense.”
She didn’t have much to offer the rest of the meal.
* * *
It was nearly eleven when Milo returned.
She’d gone to bed in the guest room, unsure of the kind of night he had in mind. She listened as his footsteps traced a path from the front door to his bedroom, and back toward the living room. The stairs rumbled under his weight before he knocked on her door.
Hanna slipped out from under the blanket and hardly had the door open before she was against the wall, her face caught in his hands as he parted her lips with his tongue.
Her heart slammed against her ribs in the dark, lightning pulling at the edges of her vision as he dropped one hand lower, searching for skin beneath her t-shirt.
She thought about stopping him for a second, just to at least say hey, how ya doing, but Milo was not a man who wanted to be stopped.
She could feel it in the threads of his muscles, tightening as he pulled her legs around his waist—he needed something from her, and she was happy to give it to him.
Hanna gasped for breath when he finally broke from her mouth, moving to her neck.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He didn’t answer, save for a brief glance, something pained in his eyes that she wished she hadn’t recognized.
She threaded her hands in his hair, matching his fervent movements, giving herself over to the strange mania. His shirt disappeared, along with hers. Milo blurred around her, hands everywhere, mouth everywhere, setting little fires along her body until the entire room filled with smoke.
“Milo?” she asked, somewhere between the bed and the door. He was so quiet. Too quiet. “Milo.”
“I’m fine,” he growled, breaking away from her. He wiped at his mouth, the ink of his tattoos stretching and twisting as he breathed. “I’m fine.”
“One more and I’ll buy it,” she whispered.
He hung his head back, the anger he’d been battling back simmering just under the surface.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay—”
“It’s not. I’m sorry, Hanna. It’s just… it’s a bad day.”
She swept her shirt off the floor, snagging his and tossing it to him.
“I’m the queen of bad days, Milo.”
He perched his hands on his hips, glancing out into the hall as he drew another deep breath.
“It’s late,” she murmured, pulling her shirt on. “You should sleep.”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Milo nodded, exhaling. He stepped out of the guest room, but paused at the top of the stairs. “Are you coming?”
Hanna shook her head, trying to clear the thousands of thoughts taking hold. Her mind still swirled from the rush of him.
“Yeah,” she said. “Of course.”
* * *
Milo was gone before she woke up, but after her last call of the afternoon, her phone buzzed against the coffee table.
ALWAYS ANSWER
That Oakland distiller I told you about is bringing some new shit by the bar this afternoon. Want to come taste?
Hanna stared at the text. She’d been frustrated all day, unsure what to make of his behavior the night before. She held her breath and hit send on the kind of message she would have sent twenty-four hours prior.
HANNA