33. Hannah
33
HANNAH
I didn’t sleep that night. Stab, pull, stab, pull, stab, pull. My needle made stitch after stitch, my brain whirling with all the things Zack had said.
I love you, Hannah Bell .
Stab, pull, stab, pull, stab, pull.
You’re really fucking good at doing the thing that scares you .
Stab, pull, stab, pull, stab, pull.
I want you to win, Hannah .
Stab, pull, stab, pull, stab, pull.
My fingertips were red and sore when I finally put the pillow aside. I crawled into bed just as the first light of dawn peeked over the ridge line. My eyes drifted closed with his voice still in my head.
I want you to win, Hannah .
The Painted Cat was its usual self on Saturday night. Which was to say, it was busy, but not so busy that a person making a spectacle of herself wouldn’t be noticed.
Butterflies took flight in my stomach. Oh, heck. I squished the pillow against my abdomen, hoping it would smother them. It did not.
“He’s not here.” I looked around again, just to be certain. “Are you sure he’s coming?”
James squeezed my bicep comfortingly. “Adam promised he and Brax would get him here. They’ll get it done.”
“Great,” I said mutely. “That’s great.”
Essie burst out laughing. “Oh, honey. You look like you’re going to hurl.”
“I can’t deny that’s a possibility.”
Janie poured a shot of tequila and pushed it across the bar top. “Here. For courage.”
I downed it in two swallows. I doubted I’d ever make it in one. “Thank you.”
“Do you want another one?” Janie asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t want to do this drunk.”
“You don’t have time, anyway,” Chloe said. “He just walked in.”
I spun on my toes and there he was, flanked by his brothers. Looking edible, as always. His gaze snagged on mine and everything else faded away. The people, the noise, the smells. He came closer and my heart lodged itself in my throat, which made it impossible to say anything at all when he said, “Hannah.”
Chloe elbowed me in the back, but that didn’t do any good.
“Hi, Zack,” James chirped. Then she rolled up on her toes to give Adam a kiss on the cheek. “Hi, honey.”
Brax had already captured Essie by the waist and dragged her into his side. “What are you ladies up to tonight?”
I had the feeling he already knew. Or at least he knew as much as Essie knew. But Essie didn’t know what I was going to say to Zack. She couldn’t, because I didn’t know myself, despite having thought about literally nothing else all day.
Oh, goodness. This was going to be a disaster.
The conversation swirled around us, but I kept staring at Zack and he kept staring right on back at me. His gaze dipped to the pillow I held protectively against my body and he quirked an eyebrow at me.
“You planning on taking a nap?” he asked, bemused.
I shook my head.
He looked at me like he was waiting—hoping—for more, but when I said nothing, he gave me a sad little smile then turned to the bar. “Can we get three beers, Janie?”
“You got it.”
Their beers in hand, the Hale brothers headed for their usual booth in the corner. Panic clawed at my chest as I watched Zack walk away.
No. No.
I swallowed my heart and found my voice.
“I owe you a grovel, Zack.” The words rang out loud and clear above the din.
Zack froze. Slowly he turned around, his expression completely blank. “What—what did you say?”
Suddenly it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I licked my lips nervously. “I owe you a grovel. Because you’re wonderful and patient and made me believe…” I swallowed hard. “You made me believe I could win.”
He stared at me. It was…well, it should have been unnerving.
And yet I wasn’t nervous at all. Because I knew—I knew —that if I jumped, he would catch me. So I was going to jump.
“I’m not apologizing.” I straightened my spine and tilted my chin. A faint smirk ghosted his lips. “I didn’t do anything I need to apologize for. We all have broken pieces inside us. Sometimes those pieces have sharp edges that only time can soften. That’s where I’m at now. I need time to soften some of those sharp pieces. But I think…I think I can do it. I know I hurt you, and I wish I hadn’t. I do. I wish I could say it will never happen again, but I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep.”
I didn’t look left. I didn’t look right. If I looked anywhere but Zack, at all those people I knew were staring at me, wondering what the heck was wrong with me, I’d freak out.
Zack…he was my safe haven.
So I kept my eyes on his, and pressed on.
“But I will promise you this,” I continued. “I promise that when I hurt you, I will do everything in my power to fix it. I promise I will do the scary thing, whatever it is. Because I love you, Zack. I love you so much. I—” A sob rose in my throat. Oh, no .
“Stop,” he said hoarsely. Three strides and he was taking my glasses off my face and wiping the wetness from my eyes. “Oh, god, stop. Don’t cry, Hannah. I can’t stand it. You don’t need to grovel. You had me at Mr. Hale.”
“What?” I tried to make out his face, but it was so blurry. “I didn’t say Mr. Hale.”
“Yes, you did. You walked into the Painted Cat, and you said, Mr. Hale, I presume? And I said?—”
“You said no .” I half sobbed, half laughed, remembering. “You said, you know damn well who I am, Hannah Bell, so you don’t need to presume shit .” I gave him a watery smile. “I’m paraphrasing, of course.”
“I think that’s spot on, actually.”
“I love you, Zack Hale.”
“Yeah?” He settled my glasses back on my face and I blinked at him. “Well, thank fuck, because I love you too, Hannah Bell.”
“Kiss her, you fool!” James hollered.
“I’m getting to it!” Zack shouted back.
I grinned. “Did you like my grovel?”
He snorted. “Sure did. Especially the part where you said you had nothing to apologize for. Put a whole new spin on the concept of groveling.”
“Well, I made you a pillow. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“That’s for me?” An odd expression crossed his face, like he was remembering something.
My grin widened. “Sure is.” I turned it around, showing him the embroidery on the other side.
Zack Hale’s Magic Dick Gave Me the Best Sex of My Life .
And then I was very glad that he had returned my glasses, because I had the pleasure and privilege of watching his face turn beet red from the base of his throat to the tips of his ears.
Zack Hale, my wild, wild cowboy, was blushing like a school girl.
And then he finally kissed me.