Page 101 of Hang the Moon
This thing between him and Annie was already so precious to him that he felt... protective. Like he was holding something fragile in the palms of his hands. Holding too tight might crush it; not tight enough and it might drift away. And talking about it?
“I don’t want to jinx this.” He slumped back in his chair and kicked away from his desk, spinning in a slow circle as he stared up at the ceiling. “Does that sound weird?”
“Weird.” Margot smirked. “Right up your alley.”
“Funny.”
“I wasn’t finished. Right up your alleyandwe love you for it.”
“We? Who is thisweyou speak of?”
“I was using the royalwe, you douche, but I take it back.”
He sniffled. “That is the nicest thingyouhave ever said to me.”
“Calling you a douche? Whatever floats your boat, I guess.”
He checked to make sure his office door was shut, then flipped her off. “I really like her, Margot.”
Margot’s expression softened. “I can tell. Hell, you’ve got apretty serious case of heart eyes going on. Someone saysAnnieand your face does this melty thing and it’s so gross it makes me want to hurl, but like, in a happy way.”
“Happy hurling,” he repeated. “And you called me weird.”
She threw a packet of hot sauce at him. “Giving you grief is how I show affection.”
He glanced at his notebook. “Ah, yes, shit-giving. The lesser-known sixth love language.”
Her brows rose over the top of her glasses.
“Nothing.” He waved her off. “Thinking about the meeting I’ve got in”—he checked the time—“ten minutes. We’re trying to reach a new demographic.”
Margot snagged another packet of sauce and tore it open with her teeth. “Which would be...?”
“The thirty percent of dating app users who believe apps have rendered courtships impersonal and devoid of romance.”
A flicker of recognition passed over her face, her brows ticking higher. “Damn. Well, you like a challenge. Example: Annie. Only you would fall hard and fast for a girl who doesn’t live here.”
He shot her a wry smile. “Since when is love supposed to be convenient?”
Margot squeezed her burrito so hard the filling squashed out the bottom, splattering against the foil on her lap. “Whoa,whoa. Did you just imply that youloveher?”
He set his burrito down carefully. Had he?
When Annie stepped into a room, everything else fell away. Touching Annie, kissing her, her laugh alone, made his heart skip several beats like he’d downed a red-eye coffee. Under thatwas an overwhelming sense of rightness. When his heartbeat returned to normal, she was still the only person he wanted, and he’d have given anything to be that person for her.
Perhaps it wasn’t love, but it was headed in that direction. Or, it could.
“She’s leaving tomorrow night.”
With an aggrieved huff, she set her deconstructed burrito aside. “That was not the answer to my question.”
“But a valid point, nonetheless.”
She pinned him with a no-nonsense stare. “Those dimples, while adorable, don’t work on me.”
Obfuscation was getting him nowhere. “Look, even I’m willing to admit this has all happened at breakneck speed, okay? Excuse me if I don’t want to cheapen my feelings by sticking a label on them too soon.”
Her brows rose over the top of her glasses. “Holy shit. You’rereallyserious about her.”
