“What about you? Any special holiday plans?” Hanna asked, her fingers twiddling with small dustings of chest hair before she pressed a gentle kiss to his bicep.
“Shawn and I usually watch as much football as we can stomach before heading to Flora-Bama on New Year’s Eve,” he said before he could think about it, referring to Orange Beach’s legendary beach bar and club.
“Oh yeah?” Hanna smirked. “And what do you do at Flora-Bama?”
He felt his cheeks burn. “Well, usually we pick up some tourists. But this year, I’ll just be his wingman.”
“No tourists for you?” She said, turning her head away from him, and he could practically feel the insecurity radiating off of her.
“Nah,” he said, tipping her chin up to him with his thumb and forefinger, pressing a kiss against her lips. “Not interested in anyone besides the girl responsible for Burpgate.”
Hanna pressed her palms against her face, her body shaking with laughter. “God, I am never going to live that down.”
“Nope,” he responded, popping the p, grateful she seemed to have let go of any concerns about his New Year’s plans. “Whatare you gonna do on New Year’s? Besides wishing you could kiss me at midnight, of course.”
She rolled her eyes up at him, but her lips twitched. A few beats of silence passed before she responded.
“I have a tradition I do by myself.” She bit her lip. “Every year, at midnight, I walk to our town’s square and throw a coin into the fountain and make my wish for the year. It’s cheesy, and kinda dumb, but it’s just… like a reset, for me. A reminder of what matters. Perspective on what’s changed since last year, and where I hope to be next year.”
He toyed with a piece of her hair, twiddling it between his fingers.
“What’d you wish for last year?” He asked.
She looked up at him with a grin, “Can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”
12
Breathing exercises never really worked for Hanna.
Still, she tried them.
In four. Hold seven. Out eight.
Fuck it.
She got out of the car and smoothed her pants. Tucker told her Thanksgiving was a casual affair with his family and close friends, so she’d gone with cuffed light wash straight leg jeans, an oversized navy and white striped button-down shirt, white converse, and chunky gold hoops. People on the Gulf were generally pretty casual, but she’d overthought her outfit to the point where she wanted to burn her entire closet, so she landed on something that could look dressed down or scaled up, if needed.
Nervous was a mild way of putting how she felt. She’d rather go cage diving with sharks, sans cage. But Tucker would be here, and she’d whispered her fears and anxieties to him late into the night last night. He’d reassured her time and time again—his family would love her. He wasn’t worried.
Then again, of course he wasn’t worried. He had little to lose today.
Hanna, on the other hand, had never really done this before.
But he’d be here. And when she couldn’t let go of the fears around this meeting—the overwhelming panic that she’d be her normal, rambly, blunt self and they’d hate her—he reminded her that he’d hold her hand through every second of it.
They’d driven separately because he was wrapping things up at the restaurant first and Hanna wanted an easy getaway if she needed one, though she didn’t tell him that. But he should be arriving any minute now.
Madi and Bella had called her that morning to wish her a Happy Thanksgiving.
“We miss you,” her sister said.
“A lot,” Madi chimed in. “Remind me why you decided not to drive home for Thanksgiving again?”
Hanna felt her cheeks redden and was instantly grateful they hadn’t FaceTimed. Both of them could tell when she was lying just by looking at her—they knew her tells, chief of which was a red face. And she still hadn’t told them about Tucker.
“Just didn’t want to deal with all the traffic for just a few days home. Figured I’d take some time to rest up so I have the energy for the rest of the school year.”
A half-truth, at best. They didn’t know she was spending the evening with Tucker’s family. They didn’t even know Tucker existed.