Page 2 of Hannah.

“And dressage,” she adds, tilting her chin up.

I look down at her, the sun glimmering off her long, dark hair. “Do you know what that is, or are you just throwing out equestrian words now?”

She smirks up at me, her eyes sparkling with joy. “More or less. But I think I’ll have fun watching whatever you want.”

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Why's that?”

Her smile falters, her expression almost achingly genuine. “Because you're here.”

My breath catches. Her comment was unexpected. Hannah is not like her sister at all, and this is a good reminder. Elise would never have said something like that. She was a flirt, but it was calculated, never saying anything that could be perceived as vulnerable; Hannah, however, is so… real. She wears her heart on her sleeve. It's refreshing.

“Then I hope I’m a good enough companion to make it worthwhile for you, Miss Van Den Bosch.”

Our conversation stays light, but I can’t deny that having her here, with me on my arm, makes me want to puff out my chest with pride. Hannah is dressed in a white henley shirt, her beige chinos fitted perfectly against her little body, and riding boots, shined to a mirror sheen, hugging her calves to her knees. Her long hair hangs straight and loose down her back, and the windhas given her the most attractive flush on her pale cheeks. She looks like she belongs here.

She looks like she belongs herewith me.

I glance at Hannah, her eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the spectacle before us. As silly as that sounds, I feel a certain pride in being the one to introduce her to all of this, even if it’s just a horse show.

“Quite a sight, isn't it?” I say, my voice barely audible over the thundering hooves and the excited murmurs of the crowd.

Hannah turns to me, her lips curving into a smile that lights up her eyes. “As much as I hate to admit it…you are right. Yeah, it is.” Her Dutch accent adds a melodic note to her words, and I can’t help but find it charming. “It's like they're dancing on air.”

“That's the beauty of show jumping.” My eyes follow the elegant arc of a rider clearing a daunting jump. “The seamless harmony between rider and horse is key; a single misstep and it's a dusty tumble straight to the dirt.” Absentmindedly, I rub the back of my neck, the ache of dozens of minor injuries lingering. “Don’t ask me how I know.”

Hannah laughs, her gaze fixed on the arena. “I’d have paid anything to see that.”

I chuckle softly. “I should’ve known you’d like to see me thrown from horseback. You’re such a charming lady, Hannah. So kind.”

Her attention switches back to me, a playful glint settling in her eyes. “Is your sarcasm always so on point?” she asks, her shoulder lightly brushing against mine.

“It's a nobleman's gift.” A smirk plays on my lips. “Or so I'd like to think.”

Her hair, a cascade of coffee brown, catches the sunlight, and her eyes, a deep shade of hazel green, reflect the excitement of the arena. Despite the playful exchange of words, there's a warmth between us, a connection that defies explanation. Aconnection that is going to get me in a hell of a lot of trouble if I explore too much further.

I start repeating a mantra in my head, fisting my hand when I almost lay it on her knee.She’s Elise’s sister. She’s sixteen. She’s Elise’s sister. She’s sixteen.

Another rider takes the stage in the arena, and we fall into a comfortable silence, both captivated by the sheer skill on display. The crowd’s collective gasp fills the air as a particularly daring jump is executed flawlessly.

“That was incredible,” Hannah breathes, her eyes wide with amazement.

I nod, my gaze never leaving her face. “Indeed, it was.”

She’s Elise’s sister. She’s sixteen!

We watch the competition, deeply engrossed in the show until I feel Hannah's grip on my arm. She did it like it was the most natural thing in the world. I let her be, but looking at her, I can’t help but wonder what she's thinking. It's interesting to watch a horse show through the eyes of someone who has never been to one.

I remember going to shows when I was young and being entranced by the horses. The smell of hay and horseflesh, the neighing and the sound of hooves on pavement, and the clank of horseshoes in the farrier tent...they're sounds I've heard hundreds of times now.

It's like coming home.

As a little boy, I always dreamed of the day I'd go in the ring myself. Riding was just part of my life, as it is for most families around me. That didn’t mean it was easy for me to get good at the sport, though. I had to work for it like everyone else. Being here now, as a spectator, feels strange. Watching Hannah watch the show has its perks, too. I find myself waiting for her to ask questions so that I can impress her with my knowledge. I know it's stupid. Immature, even.

Still, the fact that I want to impress her says a lot about what's going on inside me.

I try to ignore the way her arm feels tucked into mine. As the wind blows into her hair, I can smell her shampoo, and I have to keep reminding myself to focus on the horses, not her.The horses are what are important here, I tell myself.Just watch the horses.

“This is crazy,” Hannah murmurs, her eyes on the arena.

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