Page 3 of Hannah.

My stomach drops. Can she possibly know what I’m thinking? The thoughts that I definitely shouldn’t be having about her?

“It's so much better than I thought.” Hannah’s tone is soft, almost entranced, and I find myself fascinated by her. There's something about how she is taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the equestrian center. I've seen this place a million times, but now, looking at it with her by my side, it's like seeing it for the first time.

Before, she was just Elise's tall younger sister. Now, it feels like I've known her my whole life. I'm not used to getting attached to people so quickly, which scares me.

“Are you hungry?” I ask, needing a distraction from the intensity of my thoughts.

Hannah is happily surprised. “Yes.”

Standing, I offer her my hand. “Let’s go, then. I'll show you the food tents. You'll love it.”

We weave through the stands until we’re again in the open vendor area.

“You know,” she says, following me. “This is fun. Horses have always been Elise's thing, but I can see the draw—even if it smells a little.”

Sliding her a look, I say, “I thought we weren't supposed to talk about Elise?”

“I can,” she clarifies haughtily. “But not you.”

My mouth quirks up at the corner. She’s jealous. I know enough about her to pick up on that, at least. A memory resurfaces in my mind of Elise watching Dan talk to the random girls her brother had invited to their vacation rental and the fiery jealousy in her eyes, and I have to repress a laugh. “Okay. Fair enough.”

She quickly changes the subject. “So, how often have you been to events like this?”

“Hundreds of times.”

She stops in her tracks at once, her eyes wide. “That’s crazy.”

“It's the truth.” I shrug. The food tents come into view, and the smells of everything being grilled and fried make my stomach rumble.

“You know,” Hannah says, looking thoughtful, “it's weird. Growing up, I always heard about Elise's boyfriend from the equestrian camp, but you were different than I expected when she first brought you to dinner. Even now, you're still surprising me.”

The subject matter catches me off guard. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean…” she looks up and blows out a breath. “Never mind.”

Her words make my pulse kick up. I slow down and grab her hand to make sure she slows, too. “What? Go on. I want to know.”

Hannah glares at me like she can’t believe I’m forcing genuine words and feelings out of her. I get it. Compared to her siblings and their brash, heated personalities, Hannah is more reserved. Shut off from the rest of the world…but not to me. Finally, she speaks again. “I was expecting an arrogant, privileged prick. Someone who was all about his looks, status, and money. You know, like most guys at my school. But you’re not. You're so...you're real.”

I stop in my tracks and stare at her, completely taken aback.

“What?” Hannah says. There’s a worried edge to her voice. “What, did I say wrong?”

You didn’t say anything wrong, you beautiful, brilliant little thing. You’ve said everything right. “No one has ever called me 'real' before.”

She snorts delicately. “That's hard to believe.”

“It's true.” All around us, the world is moving. The crowd presses in, but it's like I'm in a secluded little bubble with Hannah. All I see is her. “I always get accused of putting on the aristocrat act.”

“So it's not an act?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

“No.” Then I clarify. “Not with you.”

“Oh, Johan.” Hannah presses the back of her hand to her forehead. It takes me a breath to realize that she’s being sarcastic. It annoys me because I know she’s using it as a defense mechanism. “That's the most romantic thing anyone has ever told me.”

“I mean it.” Despite her sarcasm and the chuckle that follows suit, I keep my tone even and my eyes on hers.

The volume of Hannah’s words soften with sincerity. “I know you do.”

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