Page 33 of That Reunited Feeling

I rest my elbows on my knees, leaning a crucial few inches closer to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” She shrugs with one shoulder. “But in case you do want to know, it was me who left her. Or kicked her out. Or however you want to put it.”

“Oh.” She looks at me for a second with an expression suggesting she’s never considered that scenario, then turns away.

I assume she’s going to head for the door to leave, but she moves in the other direction and ambles toward the wall of windows looking out over the wintry garden. She stops, shoves her hands into her front pockets this time, and stares out. Her gaze roves the sparkling white patio, leafless plants, lawn, and trees.

“Enjoy the snow while you can.” I get to my feet and follow her. “There’ll be no more of that once you’re in California.”

I stop behind her. Close enough to reach out and touch her, but not close enough for her to feel my body heat.

Although, right now, my insides are warming at a rate probably detectable by satellite. And that’s not okay. That’s very not okay. I’m here to recover from the stressful end of my marriage, for God’s sake. Not to develop body temperature issues for my high school love. Or for anyone.

I swore I wouldn’t date for a year. “Cleanse your relationship palate,” Hugo described it as. A bit rich from the man who lurches from woman to woman with barely a meal in between.

She nods, recognizing this is her last winter in New England.

“Everything I said was true, Hannah. I might never have been into music without you. I might never have started the company without you. You’re a part of my business already. Always have been. Whether you knew it or not. Whether you liked it or not.”

She stands motionless and silent.

As if acting on its own, my right hand slowly reaches toward her shoulder. “I honestly would value your opinion on Saturday.”

My fingers stop inches away from her and hang in the air, as if there’s some final force field they can’t quite break through. “Please come with me.”

“What about Dylan?” she asks the snowy landscape.

“I’m sure Mom would look after him.”

Hannah’s shoulder twitches. And my outstretched fingers itch to touch it. Shit. Is she crying?

I drop my hovering arm right before she turns around and reveals her smiling face. “Maybe we could find them anotherOverlord Hybridsmovie to watch.”

My heart surges. Not only does she find it amusing, but she also seems on the verge of saying yes.

“Does that mean you’ll come?”

She screws up the lips that, in another life, I kissed countless times. “I did get all excited when I was arranging everything.” She looks up at me, the whites of her eyes gleaming around their blue hearts. “And it’ll probably be the last time I get to do anything like that for ages.”

“When you get to LA, I bet you’ll be out doing stuff all the time.” With all the guys who’ll flock to her like hungry moths to the most dazzling flame.

“When I’m in LA, I’ll be busy with other things.” She looks away, vanishing to another world for a moment.

“Whenwasthe last time you saw live music?”

She thinks for a second. “About three years ago. But it was a string quartet at a wedding.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Totally does,” she says, pointing at me and stopping just short before poking me in the chest—something she always used to do when she was having an I-told-you-so moment. “Because they were playing Nickelback.”

“Now that I would have paid to see.”

“Don’t ever do that. It was terrible.”

“So, is this a yes? You’ll come to Portsmouth with me on Saturday?”

Her eyes scan my face. From my chin to my mouth to my nose, my cheeks, my forehead, and, finally, my eyes. She nods slowly. “I’d really like to go.”

“Excellent.” I’m not giving her a moment to change her mind. “I’ll book us a driver.”

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