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Chapter Ten

Hannah

I don’t get fate. It was twisted and played games. I could never predict it. Fate had me facing down breast cancer. Fate had me in love with a man that would never feel the same. Fate had me questioning everything in my life. Fate had me questioning the way I lived my life. The relationships I had, the friendships I had. I questioned all of it.

And it would seem my enemy fate was pulling another trick on me as I stared at Brad. How the hell did he know I was here? I’d paid cash for the room.

“Um, what are you doing here?” I finally found words after staring at him for a solid minute, taking in his worn vest and clean clothes. His jeans didn’t have grease stains on them. His top wasn’t covered in blood, grease or dirt.

I frowned. He looked like he had put effort in.

“Are you by yourself?” he asked and shoved his hands in his pockets like the answer to that question meant more to him than it should.

“Nah, Tatz is in the shower.”

I saw his expression drop as if I had just confirmed his worst nightmare.

“Just kidding. I’m by myself.” I opened the door up wider and couldn’t stop the grin when his expression hardened. “What do you want, Brad? How did you find me?”

I sure as hell didn’t tell him where I was and doubted Layla had told him.

He leaned against the doorframe. “Put a tracker on your phone.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

“You did what!?” I couldn’t believe he would violate my privacy like that. “How could you do that to me?” God, what if he had tracked me going to the hospital? Was that why he was here? To find out the reason I went there twice a day?

“Calm down. I’m the only one who can track it.” He reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Haven’t seen you since you dropped that bomb about Tatz.”

“So you thought you would just track me down?” I snapped at him. I loved my privacy. “Has Dad been watching where I’ve been going?” It dawned on me that Dad would know he had put a tracker on my phone. Could fate be that twisted that my secret was already out and I didn’t know it?

“No, only me.”

“So, get to it then.” I was ready for his questions about why I was living at a hospital. I crossed my arms, and couldn’t stop my glare from forming.

He frowned. “Get to what?”

“You’ve been…” I clamped my mouth shut. Maybe he didn’t know? It wasn’t like I was going directly to the hospital. It was close to it though. It was the cancer clinic. Maybe he hadn’t put two and two together.

I looked at him a bit harder. Yeah, he didn’t know. If he knew he would be questioning me now. He would be demanding answers. Not standing here asking if I was alone or not.

“Why are you here, Brad?” My mind was slowly calming down after having a full-on panic attack.

“Wanted to see you.” He stared down at me. “Been trying to see you all week but you’re never home.”

“Why?” I didn’t understand why he would want to see me. Why would he want to see me? I didn’t see why, but he was looking at me like the answer was obvious.

“Been meaning to thank you.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket and scratched the back of his neck. “About what you did last weekend.”

“What did I do?”

“You lied to your dad. I would have taken the beating. I deserved it for touching you.”

“Well, like I said, you regretted it. No point you dying over it.” I wasn’t doing regrets. But I got that he did. I saw it on his face as soon as he realized what he had done.

He took his hand off the back of his neck and the nervous expression that had been on his face dropped and a serious one took its place. “I don’t.” He stepped forward, sounding extremely determined; his hand spreading across my cheek, cupping my face. “I don’t regret it.”

I could tell by his tone, his expression and his body language that he meant it. He didn’t regret it. He didn’t regret kissing me. I was shocked. I couldn’t believe that Brad was looking at me the way he was looking at me right now.

My mouth dropped open slowly as my mind ran over those facts. Had he really just said that? Right now he was looking like it was taking all his willpower to not kiss me.

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