Page 26 of Stick With Me
I squeeze her hand, not realizing I needed those words until she said them. “Thanks, Sunshine.”
TWELVE
“Another round?”the waitress at the hole-in-the-wall Mexican cantina interrupts.
Hannah has the thick blue margarita glass on her lips, ready for a sip. She pulls it back to check how much she has left. Despite her glass being nearly full, with a smile she says, “Yes, please.”
It’s been a perfect night. We’re finishing up our second round of margaritas and apparently going in for another. We’ve stuffed ourselves with tapas, tacos, chips, and guacamole, all while the ocean stretches out just across the street. Let’s be real, I’ve barely noticed the view, more drawn to the girl across from me with flushed cheeks and a smile glued on her face. I am so fucking content.
As the waitress heads toward the bar to place our order, Hannah resumes our conversation. “I’m telling you Chihuahuas are the most dangerous breed. People assume it’s the big scary ones, but nope! The little guys have small-man syndrome. They have a bite because they have no bark… Wait, that’s not how it goes.” She takes another sip of her drink. I can practically see the thought bubble forming. “Oh, all bark, no bite… But wait, that’s not right, because they do bite!” She giggles, waving it off.
I can’t help but laugh with her. Tipsy Hannah is adorable.
“Aw, you think I’m cute?”
Guess I said that out loud. I rein in my laughter and smile at her. “I believe I said adorable, and yes, you are.”
“I almost lived with a Pomeranian! You know I love dogs… but don’t Pomeranians seem like the most pretentious of the dog breeds? A model and a pretentious dog. No, thanks!”
Hannah rambles when she drinks. Usually, I’m good at following her thought process, but even I’m confused. “Huh?”
She shrugs and takes another sip, licking the salt from the rim of her drink. I zero in on her tongue as it glides across the glass. When it slips back between her lips, I quickly tear my gaze away and shift in my seat.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I looked for places in Chicago. Turns out I can’t afford rent in the city. Not a big surprise that there are no apartments renting for zero dollars.” She grabs a chip, scoops up some salsa, and pops it into her mouth. “So, I looked for people wanting a roommate, but that was equally disheartening.”
“You were looking for a roommate? What am I, chopped liver? Need I remind you, I offered you an apartment for free.”
“Well, don’t you worry. There were no suitable prospects. There was a psychic looking to have sound baths… Do you know what a sound bath is? Never mind, doesn’t matter. Then there was the model. I’m not fashionable enough for her. Oh, and the creeper looking for a young female roommate. Gross.”
“What the hell, Hannah?! You’re not moving in with any of those people. If you really don’t want to cohabitate with me”—I give her an exaggerated frown—“I’ll rent you an apartment in my building. You can have your own space and still have the funds to launch your rescue.”
She looks at me with her mouth agape. “You’d do that for me?”
Without hesitation. “Of course I would. I’d do much more than that for you.”
“Thank you, Ry. I’m still thinking over the moving in with you offer.” She caresses my hand resting on the wooden tabletop, and I take the opportunity to intertwine our fingers, enjoying her touch.
Our connection is undeniable, at least to me. It’s friendship, but on fire. I want to talk to her and laugh with her, but I also want to rip her clothes off and hear her moan in my ear. I hope like hell she feels even a fraction of what I do. It’s getting harder and harder to hold back.Literally and figuratively.
As the third round of margaritas is placed on the table, our hands separate, and she lifts her glass to mine. “Cheers! Thank you for such a fun night. I needed this.”
I clink my glass against hers. “You know, if you moved in, we could have nights like this all the time.”
“I wouldn’t mind having more nights like this. Want to walk? I’m not ready for this night to end, but I think I’ve reached my margarita limit.” She pushes the still-full glass to the middle of the table.
I flag down the waitress and hand over my credit card to settle the bill. Hannah protests, but she knows there’s no way I’m letting her pay. “Save your money for all the dogs you’re going to rescue.”
“Touché.” A shy smile tugs at her lips as she leans back in her chair. “Thank you.”
“You already said that,” I tease.
“Foreverything.”
She’s not just thanking me for dinner. It’s in the softness of her voice, the way she holds my gaze—like she’s sending me the words she’s not ready to speak through an invisible thread between us. It tugs at that spot deep in my chest, the one that always stirs when she’s near.
I could ask what she means. Press her for more. But instead, I just nod, reaching for her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Always,” I tell her. And I mean it.
