Chapter 19 #3
She plopped into a rickety chair in the corner of The Cosmo and waited for Logan to get his daily dark roast, the acidic smell bringing back dozens of mornings at the coffee shop on campus, studying for finals or mentally preparing to head home for breaks between semesters.
This morning, however, they were hungover, studying completely new versions of one another, and were mentally prepared for absolutely nothing.
“So,” Logan said, leaning back in the chair. “You sold our house.”
Hanna choked on her water. “I sold my house. Did Matty tell you?”
He conceded. “Your house. And yes. But he thought I knew. When did you sell it? Did you at least get a good deal for it? Who helped you list it? You know, you really should have called me.”
Hanna hung her head back. “I didn’t need you! I made a decent amount off of it and bought a fixer-upper downtown. Investment property.”
She tried not to wonder if that investment was crumbling under the Arizona sun in her absence.
Logan sipped his coffee, his eyes unfocused. She’d seen that look before—calculating.
“Bungalow?”
“Yes.”
“Roosevelt?”
She blinked slowly at him. “Yeah.”
“Exactly what you always wanted, huh?”
Her face fell. “In a way.”
They’d spent years talking about renovating one of the historic homes downtown. Her mom was going to help decorate.
Hanna had gotten what she wanted, but what was the point if everyone she wanted it for was gone?
“Sloane and I broke up.”
Hanna put on her bravest face. “I heard.”
His brows knit together. “Oh? Did I, uh, tell you last night?”
She opted not to rat Milo out and stoke whatever weird feud they had.
“You wouldn’t be sitting here right now if you were still together.”
“I accepted an offer in San Francisco.”
Hanna smiled. “I think that’s great, Lo. But why are you telling me all of this?”
“Because I think I hit rock bottom, and I don’t know what the fuck to do about it.”
She finished her water. “You come to me—the resident disaster—to soothe your ego?”
“No, Hanna, that’s not—” Logan reached for her hand and she leaned away. “I miss you.”
She scoffed. “You don’t miss me. You miss who you were with me. And those are two drastically different things.”
“No,” Logan said, shaking his head. “I miss you, Hanna. I miss you all the time. I miss my best friend.”
He squeezed her hand.
“I miss these hands…”
She pulled back, the haze in his eyes crystallizing into something else. Something angry.
“Oh,” he breathed.
“Oh, what?”
Logan’s lips twisted around his name. “Milo. You guys are still fucking then?”
Hanna stood, her face red as she tamped down the desire to slap him.
“Of course, the only possible reason I could resist the man who broke my heart would be if I was under another one, right? Couldn’t be that I have a litany of reasons to never even speak to you again, let alone be with you.”
He sighed. “You didn’t answer the question.”
“Aren’t you tired of this? We’re adults, Logan!”
“Hanna—”
“I gotta go,” she sighed. She exited quickly, a familiar ache opening in her chest. Her lungs felt like they were collapsing from the bottom up. She pulled out her phone, tapping his name before the hyperventilation took over.
“Hanna?”
“Hey,” she managed, trying to sound okay.
It was all he needed to hear.
“I’m sending you my room number.” Milo’s voice faded from the phone. “You gotta find somewhere else to be, Brandon.”
* * *
Milo pulled the door open, still in his gray sweatpants, a crime against her quickly unraveling brain.
She pushed through him, throwing herself onto the red leather couch at the front of his suite. He closed the door and snagged a bottle of water from the minibar, cracking it open and handing it to her.
“I don’t need twelve-dollar water,” she laughed.
He sat on the coffee table across from her, their knees touching. His eyes slid over her, assessing. Always assessing.
“What do you need?”
She swallowed the feeling that gnawed at her, but her chest didn't listen. Shuddering, she fought to hold onto a breath.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re upset. Mom stuff? Logan stuff?”
She shook her head, leaning into his hand on her knee.
“How long until Brendon gets back?”
“He went with Matty to the pool with the girls.” He stood and flipped the security bar over the door. “I imagine they’ll be there for a while longer.”
“They have the cabana until two.”
Milo checked the time on his phone and sat across from her again, resting his hands on either side of her face.
“I can get a lot of distracting done in ninety minutes, Hanna.”
“Okay,” she breathed. He ran his finger lightly over her sternum.
“Are you sore? Are you sure you don’t want to talk?”
She leaned forward, drawing a line from his knee up his thigh.
“You know what I really want to do?”
“Tell me.” He trailed his nose along the line of her jaw, her heart racing as his fingers skimmed her sides.
“I really want to take a nap.”
Milo let a low, rumbling laugh loose from his chest.
“That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me, Arizona.”
He popped up and tossed his wallet onto the table, resting his hat next to her purse. He pointed to the neater of the two beds and she crashed onto it, sliding under the covers.
“I’ll set an alarm,” Milo muttered to himself, tapping his phone and then setting it on the nightstand. He tugged at her arms and rolled her over so she wrapped around his back.
“I didn’t peg you as a little spoon.”
“Not into pegging,” he said, snuggling back into her.
She brushed her thumb over his arm, finally feeling the weight of the previous night's lack of sleep. But there was a small piece of her—one she kept on a very tight leash—that felt that his all-consuming warmth was something she could get used to.
She was so fucked.