And it had been a spectacular leap beyond the limits of propriety. Had my goal been not saying or doing anything inappropriate? I think that ship has officially sailed. I'd say nailing your employee up against the wall of your office counts as inappropriate. How could I have been so fucking stupid? I let my dick call the shots and now everything is screwed up. There's no way to bring things between us back to what they were.
I rub my hands over my face, trying to wipe away the memory of the hurt in Hannah's eyes. It’s no use. Every time I close my eyes, I can see her mouth drop open as I said those two words. She was furious, but worse, she was hurt. By me. I feel like the world’s biggest asshole. I have to find a way to make things right.
I wait until I’m certain Hannah has made it home, then give it a few more minutes in case Liam is awake and she needs to put him back to bed. I wait a few more minutes, just to be on the safe side. I tell myself I’m not stalling. I’m just being considerate. Besides, I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to say. I just know I can’t leave things the way they are. I know I need to talk to Hannah. I need to make sure she’s okay, smooth things over. I don’t know if I’ll be able to, but I have to try. Before I lose my nerve, I press the button to call her. I hear three full rings before she answers. She doesn’t answer with the typical ‘hello’.
"What do you want, Finn?" Hannah says with a sigh. She doesn't sound angry right now. Instead, she sounds sad. That might be worse. I feel a stab of guilt. I think I prefer the anger.
"I want to fix this," I say. "I screwed up."
She makes a choking sound. "Really?" The sadness seems to have left her voice in the space of a heartbeat and the anger is back. I'm starting to reconsider which is worse. "You screwed up? Hm. I see."
"Hannah, listen," I begin, but she cuts me off.
"No, Finn. You can listen to me. I don't want your apology. What happened, happened. We were both very active participants and I don't remember hearing either one of us say no. Do you?"
I sigh. "No, but—”
"Good." Hannah doesn't let me finish. "Now that that's settled, let's get one other thing straight. I knew exactly what I was doing tonight. I'm just as responsible as you are for what happened. I wasn't drunk and you didn't take advantage of me. I wanted it. I wanted you. And I'm not sorry. You'll have to find a way to deal with your own issues."
I'm stunned into momentary silence. Hannah uses the moment to speak again.
"It's late and I'm tired," she says. "Goodnight, Finn."
There's a click, then nothing. Silence. She hung up on me. I stare at my cellphone, wondering just how everything had gone so wrong in such a short time.
Chapter Fourteen
Hannah
I wake up early after a night filled with hazy dreams where I relive the events in Finn's office. Which only leaves me feeling exhausted and on edge. I allow myself a few minutes of lying in bed trying to come up with a reasonable excuse for why I can’t go to work today. But in the end, I know better. I never miss work. Today is no different. Besides, I’m going to be so busy with the wedding that I won’t have time to worry about Finn.
At the thought of him, I feel that familiar flutter low in my belly. Only this time it’s accompanied by the incredibly vivid memory of the night before. It was much easier to pretend I didn’t want him before I knew what it was like to be with him. I curl up on my side, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to banish the images. It’s no use. It’s as if my body has finally realized what it’s been missing all these years and it wants more. Not that I blame my stupid body. Sex with Finn was amazing. Anyone would want more of that. Frustrated, I climb out of bed and go about getting ready for the day. It’s a full hour earlier than I usually wake up during the week, but my sleep is ruined. I might as well get moving.
I take extra time on my hair and makeup. It’s going to have to last through a hectic morning all the way through the late afternoon ceremony. It’s going to be another long day. On a whim I decide to wake Liam up early so we can have breakfast at Momma Jean’s before he goes to school. It’s something we normally do on the weekends or during the summer when he doesn’t have school, but it’ll be a nice surprise for him. I didn’t get to have dinner with him the night before because of the rehearsal and I probably won’t be there tonight either with the wedding. We could definitely use some mother-son time.
Momma Jean’s isn’t too crowded when Liam and I arrive, which is a good thing. On the weekends there can sometimes be lines out the door. We find a couple of empty seats at the counter and study the menu together. It’s no surprise that he wants French toast. It’s what he always wants when we come here, but he always looks at the menu as though he’s going to see something new on there that will change his mind. So far it hasn’t happened. After we place our order, I turn to Liam.
“So,” I say. “What do you want to
