Page 23 of Safe With Me
“She hugged me. Wanted me to talk to Jase for her.”
Hannah snorted and lifted her gaze toward the ceiling.
“And I told her they needed to work it out between them. All I could think about was you back there with him–”
“He’s married.” Her voice rose on the word, and she scowled, brow wrinkled. “You think I’d go with a married man–”
“No. I just . . .” I raked my hands through my hair, pulling hard, trying to center myself and calm my thoughts with the slight sting. I had to get my shit together, and I was falling apart. The world was falling apart. “Guess I knew he was different all along–”
“He wasn’t different.” Disgust dripped from her voice, but the disdain was targeted at me, not Tick. “He’s decent. We were both in a tough place, and we had a good time.”
“A good time.” Somehow, I whispered the words despite the heart attack I was sure I was having. “It couldn’t be anybody else but him?”
Hannah glanced away, mouth tight as she started at the fireplace with some dark old oil painting of a landscape over it.
Shit.Shit.
Hands at my waist, I dropped my head, staring at my boots. When Daddy told me Mama was dead, I stared at the grass stains on my football shoes, and my chest closed up just like this.
“Look.” The stony word brought my gaze back to her, to find her equally stony gaze on me. “So maybe you’re seeing Elizabeth for who she is, but that doesn’t change anything. You’re still you. I’m still me. The only difference is you’re a little wiser now, and we’re no longer friends.”
“Hannah–”
“Why should I tolerate your bullshit? She was standing right in front of you, making your best friend miserable, making me miserable, and all you could see was her. Now you want to seeme and play dog in the manger because of something I did with another man when I was nothing to you? I don’t think so.”
She’d never been nothing to me. Never. “Hannah, I saw you.”
“Please.” Her gaze trailed over me, and she pursed her lips, like I was manure on her boots. Fuck, I was lower than shit on her boots. “You deserve what you get.”
“You’re right.” My chest heaved. “I do.”
“Oh, stop. I don’t feel sorry for you.”
“I don’t want you to.” I sucked my balls up, knowing she might kick me right in them. “But I’m asking you to let me make it right between us. I’m asking you for a chance to be better.”
She wrinkled her nose and dropped her arms for the first time. “Get out.”
My lashes fell, enclosing me in darkness.
Fuck me.
Chapter Seven
Hannah
In less than a week, I figured out Scott Barlow was a lot like my daddy – sharp, witty, brusque, and always moving. Unlike my daddy, he didn’t have a sentimental bone in his body. He saw everything with clear-eyed cynicism and refused to allow pesky emotions to get in the way.
Case in point, his engagement to his law partner Andrea Yates. Smart and all no-nonsense, she was a little older than the two of us (Scott had been a year ahead of me in school, one of Tick’s best buddies, and the fact he was an attorney with his own practice, even in Coney, made me question my lack of accomplishments). Their whole relationship was no-nonsense. Like, I was in the office when she ordered her ring from Tiffany’s and passed him the iPad for his credit card info.
That kind of no-nonsense.
Andrea, who’d received her half of the partnership from her bachelor uncle, didn’t hail from Coney and came off a little judgy of small town girls like me, but I knew where I stood with her. I liked that.
The work wasn’t tough – I literally answered the phone, made appointments, and handled whatever Scott didn’t want to, from putting in his grocery order to addressing the office’s holiday cards. Honestly, when they bought the engagement ring, I was surprised he didn’t pass the iPad to me.
No vitriolic emails, no drama (other than the soon-to-be-divorced men who graced his office), and no vile DMs, since I’d deleted my social media accounts.
I was safe, and life was . . . okay. Most days, I spent bored as hell, itching to create and decorate and curate.
