“That’s…that’s fine with me.”
Maggie’s studying us, a crease between her brows. “I thought you said you were tired?”
Asher slides an arm around Maggie’s waist and squeezes. “Let them hang. Nate’s harmless.” He raises a brow in Nate’s direction and nods toward the door.
Nate and Asher step into the hallway, leaving me alone with Maggie and her worried eyes. “You don’t have to entertain Nate just because he’s putting on the charm.”
“I don’t,” I blurt. Taking a breath, I force myself to relax. “I don’t feel like I have to. I just want to chat for a while.”
She chews on her lip then nods. “Okay. But call if you need anything.” She squeezes me into a hug and then heads for the door.
“Maggie?” I ask, stopping her. “He’s like Asher, isn’t he?”
“What?”
“Nate. I mean, he’s a good guy like Asher is, isn’t he?”
“What are you doing, Hanna?”
“I just need someone to talk to. Someone who isn’t from New Hope. Nate seems…” I drop my gaze to the floor. I’m ridiculous. I just met the guy and I’m crushing so hard that I want to turn cartwheels. I’m pretty sure this is what they call the rebound.
“He’s a good guy,” she finally says. “But so is Max.”
I don’t know if that’s true anymore. But I say, “I know,” and watch her leave.
6. Nate
ASHER’S SCOWL isn’t something I’ve been on the receiving end of many times. “Behave yourself,” he warns. “That’s my future sister-in-law you’ve been molesting with your eyes.”
“Future sister-in-law, huh? Is that an official title?”
His scowl changes to worry and he shifts uncomfortably. “Not yet. Soon. I hope. If she says yes.”
“Goddammit, why didn’t you say something?” I pull him into a hug and thump him on the back. “You’re one lucky bastard, you know that?”
He hugs me back briefly before withdrawing. Asher’s pretty much the best friend I have in this world, and I’ve never seen him as happy as he is with Maggie. “I know,” he grumbles. “Trust me, I know. I just don’t want to scare her away.”
“You won’t.” Damn. Who would’ve guessed that Asher Logan would ever be worried about a woman turning him down? “She’s mad about you and your ugly mug.”
He smirks. “I’m serious about Hanna, though. Be careful with her.”
I nod, looking back into the room, where Hanna and Maggie are talking. “What do you know about the boyfriend?”
Asher shrugs. “He’s a local. Good guy.”
“Does he make her happy?”
Asher’s face hardens. “No, man. Don’t play that game. Taken is taken.”
I hold up my hands, palms out. “Understood.”
“Really? Because Maggie will have my ass if you seduce her sister.”
I nod, but I don’t make any promises. There’s a sadness in Hanna’s eyes that I recognize too well. She’s not happy. She wouldn’t be staying here with me if she were.
Maggie saunters out of the room, her eyes eating up Asher. He’s worried she won’t say yes? She’s as crazy about him as he is about her. Lucky assholes.
She slides her arm through Asher’s and tilts her face toward his, her eyes bright with adoration. “Ready to go?”
“Goodnight,” I call as they walk away, but they’re already so absorbed in each other that they don’t notice me.
When I head back into the dressing room, Hanna has gotten herself a new drink. She’s leaning against the wall with her eyes closed.
All that dark hair hanging down her back, her curves hugged tight by that killer dress, and damn—those shoes. Black strappy heels that show off her red-painted toes. Black heels I’ve imagined digging into my back since she first cracked that smile at me.
She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in months—hell, maybe ever—and I need beautiful after the ugly week I’ve had.
She opens her eyes and locks them on mine. Shrugging, she looks bashful for the first time all night. “Here we are.” Her eyes skim over me, and her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip.
Oh, damn.
I’ve never been the kind of guy who goes after another man’s woman. I’ve known guys who get a thrill out of that—the conquest of it, the competition. Not me. But damn.
“My sister is going to be so pissed that she chose some club in Indy over coming with Maggie tonight.”
I grab a beer out of the mini fridge. “Why’s that?”
“If she finds out she could have spent the night hanging with Nate Crane? Are you kidding me?” Her purse buzzes and her smile falls away. “I bet that’s her.”
“You sure it’s not your boyfriend?”
Shaking her head, she draws her phone from her purse. “‘What am I missing?’ she’s asking. See? Twin think.” But she doesn’t smile when she says it. Instead, it’s almost like the words are a painful reminder.
“You’re a twin?”
She slides the phone back into her purse without typing a reply. “What is it with boys and their obsession with twins?”
I grin and shake my head. “I swear, my curiosity isn’t rooted in a sexual fetish.”
“Good. Because I’m not that kind of twin. Not by a long shot.”
“Meaning she doesn’t look like you?”
“If Lizzy had been here, you would only have eyes for her.”
I grunt. “Don’t count on it.”
“Lizzy is… She’s gorgeous. The classic blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty. She has a great sense of humor, and she’s always smiling. Everyone is happier when Lizzy is around.” She drops her gaze to the floor.
“Not all guys are hung up on blondes.”
She snorts. “Trust me. Being a brunette is the least of my worries.”
“I don’t understand. You think she’s more fun than you or what?”
She wanders over to the couch and sinks into the cushions, crossing one leg over the other and revealing another two inches of soft thigh while doing so. With some women, that would have been a calculated move meant to draw me in, but that’s not the case with her, and knowing that makes it even sexier.
She settles her drink on her knee and studies it. “I think she’s more attractive than me.” She gives a smile that wouldn’t fool a soul and shrugs. “No big deal. Is what it is.”
“There’s no one measure of attractiveness,” I argue. “She might be more attractive than you to one guy, but you’re going to be more attractive than her to another.”
“Oh boy, do I know how to have a good time or what?”
I know she wants to drop it, but I can’t. Not yet. “You’re just so f**king stunning. I’m a little surprised at your insecurities.”
She takes a long sip of her drink. “I could use a guy like you around, boosting my ego. It might be good for me.”
“Your boyfriend doesn’t?”
“I—” She squeezes her eyes shut. “We broke up. But don’t say anything to Maggie. I haven’t told her yet. Or anyone else, for that matter. It’s complicated.”
I’d like to say I’m not happy to hear those words, but I’ve never been a saint. “Damn. I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” Ice clinks against the side of her glass as she tilts it against her lips. She sips and swallows, her tongue darting out to catch a stray drop. “I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want to think about it. You know what I want to do? I want to…”
She trails off, and I wait to be disappointed. Wait for her to say that she wants me to f**k her silly, that she wants a rock star to prove that her idiot boyfriend should have appreciated her more.
Hell, I’d do it. If she wanted me to take her on this couch with her boyfriend watching on FaceTime, I couldn’t bring myself to say no.
And that is insane, because I’m not some horny teenager desperate to get off.
I’d do it just to watch the way her eyes flare to life when I look at her. To see her blush and that pulse thrum a little faster at the side of her neck. I’d do it just to taste her.
“I want to have fun,” she finally says, her eyes lifting to connect with mine. “I’ve been so busy with finals and graduation, and I haven’t made time to let loose.”
“And how do you let loose, Hanna?”
Her smile is so bright that it damn near punches me in the gut with desire. Goodness radiates off her, and I want to crawl inside.
“I dance.”
7. Hanna
THERE ARE very few nights of my life that I’m confident I will remember forever. But tonight makes the list. It’s a dream. A fantasy.
Every date and kiss and moment with Max always felt like it was leading to something more. Something bigger. I have no illusions here. This night has nothing to do with what comes after, and maybe that’s why I’m so uninhibited. A single night. A fantasy. An escape from my heartbreak.
Sweaty, teeming bodies fill the dance floor that literally pulses with the bass from the music.
I move awkwardly at first. There’s only room to dance against each other.
Taking a breath for courage, I step closer. My arms loop behind his neck and my h*ps rock to the beat.
From under his ball cap, he keeps his gaze locked on mine and slides his hands around my waist, resting them at the small of my back.
Our eyes stay locked as we adjust our movements to the music and the fit of our bodies. He smells so good. I want to bury my face in his neck and breathe him in until I’m intoxicated.
Time trips, stutters, stalls out, and then melts away entirely. At some point, one of his hands moves from my back to my hip, and our already-connected dancing becomes something more intimate.
I’ve been self-conscious all my life, but dance has always been the exception. There’s something magical about music that masks everything else, and ever since I was a little girl all too aware of being the chubbiest in my ballet class, nothing but music and movement mattered once I started dancing.
Couples on either side of us are making out. The man to our right has his date’s leg up around his waist as she grinds against him and he sucks on her neck.
Nate’s hands drift to my ass and back up, down and back up.
His touch leaves me breathless and aroused, a hot ache settling firmly between my legs and inspiring me to match the pose of the couple next to us. I can feel the length of his erection against my belly, but I want to feel it nestled between my legs.
The realization makes me draw back a bit, put an inch between our bodies.
I never intended to make it to twenty-three as a virgin, but I have. Max and I could have gone there, but I was so terrified I’d disappoint him that I told him I wasn’t ready. That I wouldn’t be ready until after marriage. It was a lie. My body was completely ready. And my heart belonged to Max since the beginning. Maybe it still does.
“Where’s that mind of yours gone, angel?” Nate’s voice is in my ear again. Then his breath is sweeping over my neck, hot and needy, as if he’s asking permission to taste me there.
Suddenly, my virginity is nothing more than a heavy coat in the heat. I want to shed it, to be done with it and put it behind me—a problem I won’t have to deal with anymore.
I tilt my head up and rise onto my toes until my lips are a breath from his. He drops his gaze to my mouth for a moment, but instead of kissing me, he spins me around then grasps my h*ps with his hands, drawing my back against his front. The movement is so smooth and easy that it almost feels choreographed.
One of his hands slides around to lie flat against my belly. The other takes a tour of my body, dipping down over the tops of my thighs, sliding up over my h*ps and belly, his fingertips brushing the underside of my breasts. I can’t breathe. Breathing feels inconsequential when every cell in my body is homed in on the sensations his touch sends through me.
Then his hand is on my neck and my chin, my jaw, turning my head so I’m looking at him again. His lips are so close. Rising onto my toes, I part my lips. An invitation.
But instead of bringing his mouth to mine, he drops his hands and steps away from me. “Can I get you a drink?”
“A drink?” I don’t want a drink. I want him. His mouth against mine. His body. That sexy voice, low and gravelly, promising pleasure in my ear.
I shake my head and push past him, through the crowd, and out the side exit into the night.
My ears seem to sigh at the silence, and my heated skin practically steams in the cool air.
Several smokers mingle a few feet from me. I catch the scent of clove cigarettes and something else. Weed, probably. Long shadows wait for me around the corner, and I slip into them, leaning my head against the building and closing my eyes.
He flirted with me all night, didn’t he? Made his attraction clear? Danced with me so close my body is buzzing, my skin hungry for more of his touch. He made me believe a guy like him could find me sexy.
But maybe it was all just pretend—a guy pretending to be attracted to me to cheer me up.
The thought makes my chest ache, throb like a thumb hit by a hammer. Why couldn’t I have been made more like my sisters? Maggie doesn’t have to worry about her weight and she eats whatever she wants. Krystal works hard to keep her body, but even if I eat the same things she does and follow her to the gym, I barely lose a pound. And Lizzy has been thin her whole life—my twin completely unaffected by my demons.
Maggie’s studying us, a crease between her brows. “I thought you said you were tired?”
Asher slides an arm around Maggie’s waist and squeezes. “Let them hang. Nate’s harmless.” He raises a brow in Nate’s direction and nods toward the door.
Nate and Asher step into the hallway, leaving me alone with Maggie and her worried eyes. “You don’t have to entertain Nate just because he’s putting on the charm.”
“I don’t,” I blurt. Taking a breath, I force myself to relax. “I don’t feel like I have to. I just want to chat for a while.”
She chews on her lip then nods. “Okay. But call if you need anything.” She squeezes me into a hug and then heads for the door.
“Maggie?” I ask, stopping her. “He’s like Asher, isn’t he?”
“What?”
“Nate. I mean, he’s a good guy like Asher is, isn’t he?”
“What are you doing, Hanna?”
“I just need someone to talk to. Someone who isn’t from New Hope. Nate seems…” I drop my gaze to the floor. I’m ridiculous. I just met the guy and I’m crushing so hard that I want to turn cartwheels. I’m pretty sure this is what they call the rebound.
“He’s a good guy,” she finally says. “But so is Max.”
I don’t know if that’s true anymore. But I say, “I know,” and watch her leave.
6. Nate
ASHER’S SCOWL isn’t something I’ve been on the receiving end of many times. “Behave yourself,” he warns. “That’s my future sister-in-law you’ve been molesting with your eyes.”
“Future sister-in-law, huh? Is that an official title?”
His scowl changes to worry and he shifts uncomfortably. “Not yet. Soon. I hope. If she says yes.”
“Goddammit, why didn’t you say something?” I pull him into a hug and thump him on the back. “You’re one lucky bastard, you know that?”
He hugs me back briefly before withdrawing. Asher’s pretty much the best friend I have in this world, and I’ve never seen him as happy as he is with Maggie. “I know,” he grumbles. “Trust me, I know. I just don’t want to scare her away.”
“You won’t.” Damn. Who would’ve guessed that Asher Logan would ever be worried about a woman turning him down? “She’s mad about you and your ugly mug.”
He smirks. “I’m serious about Hanna, though. Be careful with her.”
I nod, looking back into the room, where Hanna and Maggie are talking. “What do you know about the boyfriend?”
Asher shrugs. “He’s a local. Good guy.”
“Does he make her happy?”
Asher’s face hardens. “No, man. Don’t play that game. Taken is taken.”
I hold up my hands, palms out. “Understood.”
“Really? Because Maggie will have my ass if you seduce her sister.”
I nod, but I don’t make any promises. There’s a sadness in Hanna’s eyes that I recognize too well. She’s not happy. She wouldn’t be staying here with me if she were.
Maggie saunters out of the room, her eyes eating up Asher. He’s worried she won’t say yes? She’s as crazy about him as he is about her. Lucky assholes.
She slides her arm through Asher’s and tilts her face toward his, her eyes bright with adoration. “Ready to go?”
“Goodnight,” I call as they walk away, but they’re already so absorbed in each other that they don’t notice me.
When I head back into the dressing room, Hanna has gotten herself a new drink. She’s leaning against the wall with her eyes closed.
All that dark hair hanging down her back, her curves hugged tight by that killer dress, and damn—those shoes. Black strappy heels that show off her red-painted toes. Black heels I’ve imagined digging into my back since she first cracked that smile at me.
She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in months—hell, maybe ever—and I need beautiful after the ugly week I’ve had.
She opens her eyes and locks them on mine. Shrugging, she looks bashful for the first time all night. “Here we are.” Her eyes skim over me, and her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip.
Oh, damn.
I’ve never been the kind of guy who goes after another man’s woman. I’ve known guys who get a thrill out of that—the conquest of it, the competition. Not me. But damn.
“My sister is going to be so pissed that she chose some club in Indy over coming with Maggie tonight.”
I grab a beer out of the mini fridge. “Why’s that?”
“If she finds out she could have spent the night hanging with Nate Crane? Are you kidding me?” Her purse buzzes and her smile falls away. “I bet that’s her.”
“You sure it’s not your boyfriend?”
Shaking her head, she draws her phone from her purse. “‘What am I missing?’ she’s asking. See? Twin think.” But she doesn’t smile when she says it. Instead, it’s almost like the words are a painful reminder.
“You’re a twin?”
She slides the phone back into her purse without typing a reply. “What is it with boys and their obsession with twins?”
I grin and shake my head. “I swear, my curiosity isn’t rooted in a sexual fetish.”
“Good. Because I’m not that kind of twin. Not by a long shot.”
“Meaning she doesn’t look like you?”
“If Lizzy had been here, you would only have eyes for her.”
I grunt. “Don’t count on it.”
“Lizzy is… She’s gorgeous. The classic blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty. She has a great sense of humor, and she’s always smiling. Everyone is happier when Lizzy is around.” She drops her gaze to the floor.
“Not all guys are hung up on blondes.”
She snorts. “Trust me. Being a brunette is the least of my worries.”
“I don’t understand. You think she’s more fun than you or what?”
She wanders over to the couch and sinks into the cushions, crossing one leg over the other and revealing another two inches of soft thigh while doing so. With some women, that would have been a calculated move meant to draw me in, but that’s not the case with her, and knowing that makes it even sexier.
She settles her drink on her knee and studies it. “I think she’s more attractive than me.” She gives a smile that wouldn’t fool a soul and shrugs. “No big deal. Is what it is.”
“There’s no one measure of attractiveness,” I argue. “She might be more attractive than you to one guy, but you’re going to be more attractive than her to another.”
“Oh boy, do I know how to have a good time or what?”
I know she wants to drop it, but I can’t. Not yet. “You’re just so f**king stunning. I’m a little surprised at your insecurities.”
She takes a long sip of her drink. “I could use a guy like you around, boosting my ego. It might be good for me.”
“Your boyfriend doesn’t?”
“I—” She squeezes her eyes shut. “We broke up. But don’t say anything to Maggie. I haven’t told her yet. Or anyone else, for that matter. It’s complicated.”
I’d like to say I’m not happy to hear those words, but I’ve never been a saint. “Damn. I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” Ice clinks against the side of her glass as she tilts it against her lips. She sips and swallows, her tongue darting out to catch a stray drop. “I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want to think about it. You know what I want to do? I want to…”
She trails off, and I wait to be disappointed. Wait for her to say that she wants me to f**k her silly, that she wants a rock star to prove that her idiot boyfriend should have appreciated her more.
Hell, I’d do it. If she wanted me to take her on this couch with her boyfriend watching on FaceTime, I couldn’t bring myself to say no.
And that is insane, because I’m not some horny teenager desperate to get off.
I’d do it just to watch the way her eyes flare to life when I look at her. To see her blush and that pulse thrum a little faster at the side of her neck. I’d do it just to taste her.
“I want to have fun,” she finally says, her eyes lifting to connect with mine. “I’ve been so busy with finals and graduation, and I haven’t made time to let loose.”
“And how do you let loose, Hanna?”
Her smile is so bright that it damn near punches me in the gut with desire. Goodness radiates off her, and I want to crawl inside.
“I dance.”
7. Hanna
THERE ARE very few nights of my life that I’m confident I will remember forever. But tonight makes the list. It’s a dream. A fantasy.
Every date and kiss and moment with Max always felt like it was leading to something more. Something bigger. I have no illusions here. This night has nothing to do with what comes after, and maybe that’s why I’m so uninhibited. A single night. A fantasy. An escape from my heartbreak.
Sweaty, teeming bodies fill the dance floor that literally pulses with the bass from the music.
I move awkwardly at first. There’s only room to dance against each other.
Taking a breath for courage, I step closer. My arms loop behind his neck and my h*ps rock to the beat.
From under his ball cap, he keeps his gaze locked on mine and slides his hands around my waist, resting them at the small of my back.
Our eyes stay locked as we adjust our movements to the music and the fit of our bodies. He smells so good. I want to bury my face in his neck and breathe him in until I’m intoxicated.
Time trips, stutters, stalls out, and then melts away entirely. At some point, one of his hands moves from my back to my hip, and our already-connected dancing becomes something more intimate.
I’ve been self-conscious all my life, but dance has always been the exception. There’s something magical about music that masks everything else, and ever since I was a little girl all too aware of being the chubbiest in my ballet class, nothing but music and movement mattered once I started dancing.
Couples on either side of us are making out. The man to our right has his date’s leg up around his waist as she grinds against him and he sucks on her neck.
Nate’s hands drift to my ass and back up, down and back up.
His touch leaves me breathless and aroused, a hot ache settling firmly between my legs and inspiring me to match the pose of the couple next to us. I can feel the length of his erection against my belly, but I want to feel it nestled between my legs.
The realization makes me draw back a bit, put an inch between our bodies.
I never intended to make it to twenty-three as a virgin, but I have. Max and I could have gone there, but I was so terrified I’d disappoint him that I told him I wasn’t ready. That I wouldn’t be ready until after marriage. It was a lie. My body was completely ready. And my heart belonged to Max since the beginning. Maybe it still does.
“Where’s that mind of yours gone, angel?” Nate’s voice is in my ear again. Then his breath is sweeping over my neck, hot and needy, as if he’s asking permission to taste me there.
Suddenly, my virginity is nothing more than a heavy coat in the heat. I want to shed it, to be done with it and put it behind me—a problem I won’t have to deal with anymore.
I tilt my head up and rise onto my toes until my lips are a breath from his. He drops his gaze to my mouth for a moment, but instead of kissing me, he spins me around then grasps my h*ps with his hands, drawing my back against his front. The movement is so smooth and easy that it almost feels choreographed.
One of his hands slides around to lie flat against my belly. The other takes a tour of my body, dipping down over the tops of my thighs, sliding up over my h*ps and belly, his fingertips brushing the underside of my breasts. I can’t breathe. Breathing feels inconsequential when every cell in my body is homed in on the sensations his touch sends through me.
Then his hand is on my neck and my chin, my jaw, turning my head so I’m looking at him again. His lips are so close. Rising onto my toes, I part my lips. An invitation.
But instead of bringing his mouth to mine, he drops his hands and steps away from me. “Can I get you a drink?”
“A drink?” I don’t want a drink. I want him. His mouth against mine. His body. That sexy voice, low and gravelly, promising pleasure in my ear.
I shake my head and push past him, through the crowd, and out the side exit into the night.
My ears seem to sigh at the silence, and my heated skin practically steams in the cool air.
Several smokers mingle a few feet from me. I catch the scent of clove cigarettes and something else. Weed, probably. Long shadows wait for me around the corner, and I slip into them, leaning my head against the building and closing my eyes.
He flirted with me all night, didn’t he? Made his attraction clear? Danced with me so close my body is buzzing, my skin hungry for more of his touch. He made me believe a guy like him could find me sexy.
But maybe it was all just pretend—a guy pretending to be attracted to me to cheer me up.
The thought makes my chest ache, throb like a thumb hit by a hammer. Why couldn’t I have been made more like my sisters? Maggie doesn’t have to worry about her weight and she eats whatever she wants. Krystal works hard to keep her body, but even if I eat the same things she does and follow her to the gym, I barely lose a pound. And Lizzy has been thin her whole life—my twin completely unaffected by my demons.
