Chapter 42
HANNAH
“That was thoughtful and amazing. Thank you,” I say, as we drive away from June’s house. It’s nine o’clock, and if we’re lucky, we should be home by eleven.
His family didn’t want to let us go; they only agreed because Bruno and Draco are at home.
“Next time bring them with you,” his mother said. “We have everything set up for them.”
When we reach a stoplight, Alex leans close to me, grabs my hand, and kisses it. “So, I’m in charge.”
I purse my lips and consider the implications for a few seconds. The moment the light turns green, I answer, “Okay.”
“Now, I’m scared. You don’t agree easily to anything.”
“That’s not true,” I say, trying to claim my hand back.
He holds it tight and kisses it again when we get to another red light.
“Hannah, I know you well. You love to argue about everything, even when you know I’m right.”
The light turns green, and he amends what he just said. “More like you hate agreeing with me.”
I huff because he’s right. This should be killing me.
The voice of reason is reminding me to keep my distance, not to trust him—at all.
Also, I don’t want anyone to control my decisions, the least of all him.
But look at what he did. He brought me to see June and the babies.
His family was warm and welcoming to me.
His dad was different. He’s usually quiet, but this evening, we talked about my year. He read most of my articles. Loved the story about East-Bali and even made a hefty donation through the charity Tucker runs.
Ari was so insistent that we come back on his birthday. I’m not up for it, but he should definitely come back. They seem to miss him, and his sister, Jeannette.
“You should come back for your birthday,” I suggest.
“Nope.”
“Why?”
He scratches his cheek. “They’re starting to focus their attention too much on my life.”
“Meaning?”
“I’m not married, my business sounds like a hobby to them, and I don’t have a plan for my future.”
“Your marital status shouldn’t matter. You’re successful, and you’re doing what you love,” I correct him.
“Appearances, Hannah. They see what they want to see. I’m not a loser, but to them, I’m not a successful man either.”
“They love you.”
When he parks the car at the airport, there’s a guy already waiting for us. Alex gives him the keys and a card. “Take it to the garage. I don’t think we’ll come back for a couple of weeks.”
The guy nods. “See you tomorrow.”
“Who is he?” I ask.
Alex grins and shakes his head. “He’s part of my team.”
“Do you have a place here that I don’t know about?”
“Nope. I rent a garage where I keep a few toys.”
“You have a game room?” I ask, trying not to sound excited or horny.
“Do we need one?” His playful gaze makes me ache, and the insinuation makes me remember the things he can do to me.
Sex with Alex is adventurous. Always different and unique.
“Behave, Spearman,” I order, as we take a seat on the plane. “Why did you choose to bring me here?”
“I don’t know,” he sighs. “It was a spur of the moment decision. The original plan was a Sharks game. But it felt shallow.”
“You can’t just say I don’t know.” I press for information. “This is so nice. Too nice. What’s the ulterior motive?”
“I don’t know exactly.” He shrugs. “What I do know is that I wanted something different. Every other option sounded fine but not good enough. I wanted to surprise you and…”
He’s off, June said that just a couple of hours ago. Off is the right word. He’s not himself.
“Are you dying?”
“What?” He chuckles.
“Well, you’re being super nice and weird. No, not weird but...different.”
The smugness is still there, but he’s not just an asshole throwing lines and hoping to get laid. He is Alex, the guy from the letters, the same one I spent time in France with. This is that man. He has been present since I arrived at my apartment. This feels easy. Too easy.
Which is a lie, there’s nothing easy between us. We always complicate things with sex. Off the charts hot, sweaty, meaningless sex. At least, meaningless for him.
Where is the asshole?
“Don’t do that, Hannah,” he orders, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t be like them and start trying to find out if there’s something wrong with me.”
“You’re acting too nice, which I like. It’s just strange, okay? The old you is easy to handle because I always know what to expect. This game is new to me, and you haven’t even explained the rules.”
“There’s no game,” he clarifies, securing my seat belt as the pilot announces we’re granted permission to take off. “Not all of us need to spend a year traveling the world to see life from a different perspective.”
“Is this mocking me, criticism, or you just want to swing a punch at me because you feel like it?”
“Fuck, Hannah,” he mutters, dragging his hands over his face. “I thought we were past this.”
“You threw the first punch,” I accuse him.
“Me, you’re the one who keeps doubting my every move. Where’s the woman who wrote me those long letters about herself?” He pulls out his earplug case. “When she’s ready to be around, let me know. I can’t go back to fighting with you.”
“Our problem is that we jumped each other too soon. I don’t do well with the guys I sleep with, and yet, you’re still around.”
He moves his gaze toward me and takes off his earplugs.
“Too soon? Should I have waited for a sign?” he sighs. “You’re pretty forward, too. Which I love about you.”
“No, but we’re awful to each other afterward,” I remind him. “We both changed. The attraction is still lingering. We also know lust is our third wheel. In fact, we should’ve never had sex.”
“You want me to apologize because it has happened? The last time was a year ago, and I’m not—” He stops when the flight attendant approaches us.
She sets a glass of wine and a scotch down with a tray of cookies. Not just regular cookies, but snickerdoodles. My favorite.
I look at Alex, and I’m battling between the Hannah who wants to crawl into his lap and kiss him and the one who wants to punch him for making me feel like this.
Once we’re alone again, he says, “I’ll never apologize for any of the times I’ve been with you. They happened, I enjoyed them as much as you did, and you won’t take them away from me.”
Alex Spearman is the guy who has made me want to spend more than one night with a guy. He also showed me this thing between us is only physical. We know the game. We follow one rule.
We do it one time and swear it’s over…until we see each other, and we can’t control the craving for one another.
Wash.
Rinse.
Repeat.
I know the score. There’s no way he’d want my heart, and I don’t want to give it to him. He’s a player. I can deal with that guy. He’s easy to recycle.
However, this Alex…
The one who wrote me long letters. The guy I found at my apartment taking care of my kitten. The one who suggested a Marvel movie marathon and who flew me to see my best friend…what am I supposed to do with him?
Show him you're in charge.
“We’re not having sex.” I smile, gaining control. “As good as it is, I’m not going there—ever again.”
He smirks. “Are you telling me, or trying to convince yourself?” He clinks his glass to mine. “It’ll be interesting to see which part of your brain wins. May the best side win.”
My smile slips as his grows. If there’s a scoreboard, I’m pretty sure he’s winning, and I have no idea what new game we’re playing or if the rules have changed.