Chapter 2 #3
We finish our tacos and sit there for a while, watching the water. She tells me about growing up in Portland, about moving to Silver Lake a year ago because she wanted a change. About how she's been working at the coffee shop while she figures out what she wants to do next.
"I don't know," she says, her voice quieter now. "I feel like I'm supposed to have it all figured out by now. But I don't. And sometimes that scares me."
"You don't have to have it all figured out," I say. "No one does."
"You seem like you do."
"I don't. Trust me."
She looks at me, and there's something vulnerable in her expression. "Do you ever feel like you're not enough? Like everyone else has their life together and you're just... pretending?"
The question catches me off guard, and I realize she's not just asking. She's telling me something about herself. Something she's afraid of.
"All the time," I say honestly. "But I don't think you're pretending, Hannah. I think you're exactly who you're supposed to be."
Her eyes shine, and she looks away quickly. "You don't even know me."
"Not yet. But I want to."
She's quiet for a long moment, and then she says, "I want to know you too."
We sit there as the sun starts to dip lower in the sky, the light turning golden. I don't want this to end. I don't want to take her back to her car and say goodbye and go back to my empty office.
But eventually, she glances at her phone and sighs. "I should probably get going. I have some errands to run before it gets too late."
"Okay."
We stand, and I notice the hot sauce stain on my tie for the first time. It's right in the center, bright red against the navy silk.
Hannah notices it too and starts laughing. "Oh no. Your tie."
I look down. "How did that happen?"
"Probably when I stole your taco." She's grinning, completely unapologetic. "Sorry. That's a nice tie."
"It's just a tie."
"A very expensive tie, I'm guessing."
"Maybe."
She reaches out and touches the stain with one finger, her hand lingering near my chest. "You know, for a lawyer, you're not very good at keeping your clothes clean around me."
"Apparently not."
Her eyes meet mine, and the air between us shifts. Her hand is still on my tie, and I can feel the warmth of her fingers through the fabric.
We walk back toward the coffee shop where her car is parked. The walk feels too short, and by the time we reach her car, my heart is pounding again.
She turns to face me, her hand on the door handle. "Thank you for lunch. I had a really good time."
"Me too."
"I mean it. This was... really nice."
"Hannah."
She looks up at me, and I step closer, close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in her eyes. Close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off her.
"Can I see you again?" I ask.
"Yes."
"Tomorrow?"
She smiles. "Tomorrow."
"Dinner?"
"Okay."
I should leave it at that. I should step back, let her get in her car, and go home. But I can't. Not yet.
"Hannah," I say again, and my voice comes out rougher than I intended.
"Yeah?"
"I'm going to kiss you now. If that's okay."
Her breath catches, and she nods. "That's okay."
I cup her jaw with one hand, my thumb brushing her cheek, and lean in slowly. Giving her time to pull away. Giving her time to change her mind.
She doesn't.
When my lips meet hers, it's soft at first. But then she makes this small sound in the back of her throat, and something inside me snaps.
I deepen the kiss, my other hand settling at her waist, pulling her closer.
She tastes like lemonade and something sweeter, and when her hands come up to grip my shoulders, I forget how to think.
Her lips part, and I take the invitation, my tongue sliding against hers.
She presses closer, her body fitting against mine perfectly, and I'm hard in an instant, straining against my zipper.
This is insane. I barely know her. But it doesn't feel like that.
It feels like I've been waiting for her my entire life.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard. Her lips are swollen, her cheeks flushed, and she's looking at me like I just turned her entire world upside down.
"Wow," she whispers.
"Good?"
"Really good."
I smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll pick you up tomorrow. Seven?"
"Seven."
"Good."
"Wait." I pull out my phone. "I need your number. And your address so I know where to pick you up."
She recites both, and I save them immediately, my thumb moving fast. When I look up at her contact, Hannah Reed, something in my chest settles.
"Bennett Cross," she says softly, like she's testing the sound of my name. "I like how that sounds."
"Yeah?" I smile at her. "I like how you sound saying it."
She rolls her eyes, but she's blushing. "You're smooth."
"Only around you."
She gets in her car, and I step back, watching as she starts the engine. She waves through the window, and I wave back, standing there until her car disappears around the corner.
Then I pull out my phone and text Richard.
I'm in trouble.
His response comes immediately.
Good trouble or bad trouble?
The best kind.
I slide my phone back into my pocket and start walking back to the office, a smile still on my face.
Hannah is the woman I've been waiting for.
And I'm not letting her go.