Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
“And then he asked you on a date?” Olivia asked, her infuriating pen moving far too quickly across the page.
Hanna had been determined not to mention Milo during her therapy session, but her mind couldn't find anything else to talk about.
He occupied every space.
“I think?”
Olivia hmm’d as she looked over her notes. “And you’re… feeling okay about that?”
Hanna snorted. “No!” She rested her forehead on the guest room desk. “It’s an insane idea.”
“How so?”
“He’s not available. I’m not available. We’re just friends!”
Olivia remained silent, her signature move.
“I can’t lose someone else,” Hanna whispered. “And I feel like this is careening into losing a friend very quickly.”
“Let me ask you this, Hanna,” Olivia said, her beige office even flatter over the webcam. “If you could survive losing Logan, and losing your mother, what makes the thought of losing Milo—whom you’ve known for a few months—different?”
Hanna leaned back against the chair. What did make it different with him?
“I hate when you do that.”
“My job?” Olivia asked.
“Yeah,” Hanna sighed.
* * *
She wrapped the last few straight pieces of her hair around the curling iron, counting to ten as her heart tied itself into knots. She was still arguing with Olivia in her head when three sharp knocks on the front door interrupted her rebuttal.
She waited to see if Milo answered, but she didn’t hear him downstairs. Thinking about it, she hadn’t actually heard him come home.
Three more knocks sounded on the door and she skipped down the stairs to see who it was. Glancing through the peephole, she burst out laughing at the sight on the other side.
Milo waited in the hallway, dressed in slacks and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up, the top buttons undone enough to see the edge of his tattoos. He had one hand behind his back, and she already knew he had a bouquet of sunflowers.
He was going to be the death of her.
She pulled open the door and he lifted the bright yellow bundle, the petals like rays of sunshine hitting his face.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
She’d already decided upstairs that whatever happened that night, it would live separately from any other facet of reality. After this weekend, she would never be on a date with Milo again, so for the next several hours, she was going to take advantage of it.
In the spirit of this decision, she threw herself into his arms, the paper wrapper around the flowers crunching into her back as he hit the wall outside of the door.
“You missed me,” he mumbled, kissing her softly. The chastity of it somehow felt more intimate than anything else he’d done to her, sending butterflies racing around her stomach.
She giggled against him.
“Maybe.” Hanna leaned her weight into him, enjoying how it felt to touch him outside of their little bubble, even if only by a few inches, dressed up for a date.
She wanted to distill that feeling into one of his empty whiskey bottles and draw little hearts on the label like a lovesick teenager.
Jesus Christ, Sunday will be sobering, she thought.
“Let’s go, I don’t want to get stuck in traffic!” Sara yelled.
Sara?
Sara!
“Fuck.”
She wasn’t sure if she or Milo said it, but he pulled her into his apartment in a blur, the door slamming behind them.
For a second, neither of them moved, but Sara had heard someone and, of course, wanted to say hi.
Sara knocked on the door and Milo stared at her, eyes wide. He did not make a move to answer it.
He’d sacrificed her. The monster.
Hanna gestured to her dress, and he shrugged, but Sara ultimately decided for them by tapping on the door again and yelling, “Hanna! Was that you?”
Just then, Hanna heard Logan and Matty's voices bouncing off the hallway walls too. It was getting worse by the second. Hanna opened the door, putting on her best breezy act.
“Damn, what are you dressed up for?” Sara stared at her like she had four heads. Milo tucked himself behind the door, trying not to breathe too loudly.
Hanna frowned. “I was just on my way over to show you this option! Narrowing down my final Vegas selects.”
Sara pressed her lips together tightly. “Oh. Yeah, I mean, you look hot as fuck. Is this for the first night or the second?”
Hanna struggled to think of a single plan they’d made.
“Second.”
“Oh, perfect! I need to up my game. I’m wearing way too much fabric.”
Logan stepped forward. “What are you doing tonight? We’re going to visit Mom and Dad, I’m sure they’d like to see you.”
Sara and Hanna looked at him with the same mystified glare. His eyes switched between them rapidly.
“I think I’ll have to pass on that, Logan.”
Sara broke the awkward silence. “Where’s Milo?”
She shrugged. “No idea.”
“He’s not home yet?”
“Mmm, if he is, he’s being very, very quiet.” At least that was the truth. Sara peered into the apartment, more than suspicious, but she wasn’t about to say anything in front of the boys.
“Well, definitely don’t let him see you in that, he’s an ass man,” Sara joked. Matty groaned and rolled his eyes. Logan looked like he had just been kicked in the gut.
Hanna forced a laugh. “Alright well, on that note, give Tom and Marcia all my love!”
“I will.” Sara turned to the guys and shooed them forward, looking back down the hall at Hanna as she rounded the corner. She mouthed before she was out of view, “Use protection.”
Hanna slammed the door closed. “Oh my fucking god.”
Milo let out a breath, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He grabbed a handful of her, slipping his fingers under the hem of her dress and tickling her thigh.
“She’s right, though. I am an ass man.”
Hanna pulled at his collar. “Yes, you’ve made that very clear.”
“I will not apologize.” He held her for another moment before heading toward the kitchen and pulling a mason jar out from under the sink. She watched as he arranged the flowers into a perfect golden halo.
He looked her over. “You ready? Or do you need another minute?”
“I just need shoes!”
She headed back upstairs, finding her heels in her Vegas bag and fastening the straps.
On her way back down, she had to stop just to admire the sight of him leaning on the kitchen counter next to her flowers, looking like a damn dream.
Olivia’s question echoed in her mind once again—what made him so different?
Shit.
“I’ve got a car coming,” he said, looking at his phone, blissfully unaware of the very dangerous yearning she was experiencing from the stairs.
She grabbed her purse and followed him out to the elevator. As soon as the door closed, she made her move.
She pressed him against the wall, wrapping her arms around his neck and applying pressure to his hips.
Milo groaned as they came to a stop. “Easy, Arizona. We’ve got all night.”
The door rolled back and she marched ahead, knowing full well he watched every step.
He caught up quickly and then did something she never expected, catching her as off guard as he'd been in the elevator.
He held her hand.
* * *
“This is quite the view,” she said over a glass of Johnnie Walker Blue—her pick—staring out the nineteenth-floor window of a gorgeous restaurant in Nob Hill.
From the low-lit table, she could see all of San Francisco, the city lights framing the blue Bay. They were several shared plates in and she was already buzzed from the scotch.
Milo raised an eyebrow over his drink. “Want a fun fact?”
“You have fun facts?” She smiled. He was having more fun than she expected. Too much fun. The entire ride over, he kept a hand on her knee, chatting away about any and everything, a levity to him that was totally new to her.
He tilted his head sideways. “Lower your expectations. I have one singular fun fact. So, back when World War II broke out, soldiers would ship out from the Bay, but first, they’d come here to Top of the Mark and toast to the bridge for good luck.
” Milo winced. “Actually, now that I’m saying it out loud, I realize it’s less fun, more sad in the greater context of everything.
I would like to amend it to an interesting fact. ”
She shrugged and stabbed another bite of steak with her fork.
“I guess if you have to say goodbye, this isn’t the worst place you could do it.” His smile twisted a little and she realized he’d taken what she’d said personally. “No hidden meaning, I promise.”
“Have I mentioned how incredible you look tonight?”
“You have not.”
He grinned. “I’m a stupid, stupid man.”
“You know, I’ve always said that about you.
” She smirked and he laid a hand over hers.
It was funny how intimate such small brushes of his skin had become in the light of Date Night Milo.
But there, where people could see them, and against both of their better judgments, it felt wilder than any of the other encounters they’d had.
He squeezed her hand and then brought it to his lips, gently brushing them over her fingers. She wondered how quickly they could get the check.
But Milo was enjoying the evening, and she was determined to enjoy it for him too.
“Hanna,” he said after his last bite, clearly thinking long and hard about his next few words. “I have to tell you, I can’t stop thinking about the other day,” he finally confessed. “In the bar.”
“Which part?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.
Milo dropped his gaze to their hands. “I’m serious, Hanna. Something changed. I’ve never really felt like that before.”
“Never?” It shocked her a little. She hadn't considered that a man like Milo had anything but insanely passionate encounters.
He shook his head, drawing a little circle on the back of her hand.
“Never. There’s something that happens between us I can’t describe, it’s crazy.”
“I know. Milo—”
“I know what we said, and I promise you that, come Sunday, I will get my shit together. But can we just pretend for now that we’re not on a deadline?”
He looked so earnest and she wished she’d never suggested the time box in the first place. She hated the fact that he was feeling bound to it.