Will flipped through a stack of unopened mail. She’d never taken him to the laundromat. It had come up again during their conversations around keeping the apartment clean, but there hadn’t been time. He wished they had that experience. He should’ve made the effort. But time had seemed like the one thing they didn’t need to worry about.
“Will?” Hannah stood in the doorway of the guest room. Her eyes were puffy and red and her hair in a messy bun, strands sticking out everywhere. Her feet were covered with fuzzy pink cat socks, and she wore loose yoga pants and a tattered, faded University of Iowa shirt. He’d seen Hannah like this before. It was never good. He walked up to her and enveloped her in his arms. He felt her stiffen before relaxing into his embrace.
“I’m sorry I shut you out,” she said against his chest.
“Don’t apologize.” He squeezed her tighter. “Are you okay?”
She laughed against him. “Not really, but Kate and I are going to drown my sorrows in Twilight, and I know watching it without you is grounds for divorce.”
“That it is,” he said, his lips quirking up at the sides. “Please tell me we’re skipping the awful first one.”
“We can’t watch them fall apart before we watch them fall in love.” She’d said it with a perfectly straight face and not a hint of irony. And he loved it.
“I hate when you have sound logic.”
She smiled against him. “I always have sound logic.”
“That is so far from the truth,” Kate said from within the guest room. “I’m all for skipping awkward Jacob and going straight to hot Jacob.”
Hannah straightened and marched back into the bedroom. “Excuse me, but we are drowning my sorrows, and I say we are starting with creeper Edward.”
THEY WERE HALFWAY THROUGH Eclipse. Kate had passed out before they’d even gotten to the opening meadow scene, and Hannah, despite her best efforts, kept dozing off. Will clicked off the television. They hadn’t said much during the movie, but he’d gotten out of them that most of their earlier conversation had been about whether to invite her parents to the party. That meant she didn’t want to end things. Or maybe she didn’t think she could. He needed to be sure either way.
He nudged her awake. “We should go to bed.”
Hannah, sleepy-eyed, peeked over at Kate and nodded. After carefully untangling themselves from the comforter, Will led her to their room. As soon as they got into bed, Hannah draped her arm across his chest and rested her head above his heart.
“Before you go to sleep,” he began, knowing the conversation needed to be had, no matter the outcome, “you should know I meant what I said in the car. We can get the annulment.”
She yawned again. “Tell me why it had to be me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why did you ask me to marry you? It wasn’t just because of the pact.”
He’d never outright told Hannah how he felt about her, but it had to be more than obvious, and Kate had known. “Kate told you.”
Hannah was quiet. Had she fallen back asleep? He shifted to check and found her staring up at him.
“I want to hear it from you,” she said.
There had to be a better time to tell her that he loved her. Her parents had basically accused her of being a harlot. None of that conversation had been easy for him to hear. He couldn’t stomach standing by while someone hurt Hannah. It didn’t help that Hannah hadn’t exactly told him about the extent of her relationship with her ex-boyfriend. Will knew he existed—there were pictures in her apartment and a few on Facebook, but nothing that led Will to believe it was serious enough for her parents to think they were on the marriage track. Though clearly, they weren’t if Hannah had dropped him so easily. That was a conversation for another day, or maybe it wasn’t. Hannah could have her secret ex, and he could have his. Shit. That was an awful thought.
“Will?”
“You’re right. It wasn’t just because of the pact,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. There was so much to say and yet so little. It was simple when he really thought about it. Hannah was his person. “The pact got me in the door, but it could only have been you. You get me in ways no one else ever has. I mean, you like me as I am. I woke up from my post-breakup haze one day to a dream about you. And I knew that I had to try. I’d wasted my opportunity senior year to tell you how I felt and distanced myself from you to make up for my own cowardice. I missed you, Abbott.”
Hannah inhaled, sudden and sharp.
Perhaps he was being too earnest, but it was too late to stop now. “It had to be you. There was no other consideration. And now—”
His words were cut off by her lips meeting his. It was quick but meaningful, conveying everything he’d been about to say—that he couldn’t go back. There was still no other consideration.
“It could only have been you too,” she said so quietly he almost believed he imagined it.
She ran a hand down his arm. Every part of their bodies touched, but that simple caress sent a shudder through him, rocking his remaining equilibrium. He stayed still, fighting the urge to pull her into him—to give in and see what happened, damn the consequences. Under Hannah’s unwavering gaze, her fingers running slow circles up and down his arms, his body stirred.
But they couldn’t consummate their relationship after her parents’ negative reaction
