Page 101 of Sweet Twins For My Brother's Best Friend

Christopher

We opt for a diner north of Hannah’s office.

I asked her if we should go to the beach, but she told me it would be a betrayal to Lucy, who loves the beach and would smell the salty water on her immediately upon our return.

So, instead, we’re in a booth across from each other, eating our meals. I pick at a Denver omelet while Hannah eats waffle fries hand over fist, her eyes glued to her plate.

“I haven’t really been hungry lately. I guess I didn’t realize how anxious I was.”

I smile at her, glad that she’s getting the right nourishment. Her confession forces me to realize that I need to keep a closer eye onher health, though. I’ve been leaving her to it, not realizing the burden she’s been carrying.

“We should call your mom, huh?”

She shrugs, her shoulders tensing next to her ears. She dips a french fry into honey mustard. “I guess so. She’d want to know.”

“What’s up with you? Why don’t you want to tell her?” I ask her.

Her attitude’s confusing me. She should be more excited than she is, and I know Piper has been worried sick.

“I do, I do. I know she worries. I just…let’s have this moment just us for today. We’ve been sharing so much of ourselves, and that’s how Tyler was able to take some of our joy.”

“Oh, I see, my private Hannah Banana.” I grin at her, remembering the way I found her, living in her office with no intention of ever telling anyone.

Her mother told me she put herself through her accreditation without telling anyone, either, just showed up one day as a CPA.

“I wonder what things you’ll keep from me.”

I reach for one of her fries, and she makes a show of following my hand with her eyes before cutting them back up at my face.

“My fries, to start,” she jokes, pulling her plate farther away from me.

Her phone trills just as she puts another fry in her mouth.

She chews the bite quickly, swallowing it and quelling a coughing fit with a swallow of water before answering her phone.

“Hello? Hannah Banana speaking. So sorry, yes, I meant Hannah Jackson…who is this?”

I stifle a snorting laugh at her mistake, and she shoots me a look that could kill before refocusing on her phone conversation.

“Oh, really? That’s…wow, that’s fast. Are you sure? Okay…well, let me talk to the client about it, and I’ll let you know by end of day tomorrow.”

She chews on the end of a fry, not quite eating it, just chewing it like a pacifier, before rolling her eyes.

“Yes, I know it will move quickly, thank you. Let me talk to the client, and I will get back to you by end of day tomorrow, as I said.”

She hangs up her phone and silences it before setting it face down on the table next to her plate. “Vultures,” she mutters.

“Am I your client?” I ask her, rubbing my ankles against hers and batting my eyelashes at her.

She drops her fry and rubs her fingers together to clean off the seasoning.

“Okay, listen, you know how you said you were thinking Maine?”

“Like a week ago?” I laugh, flickering my eyes to her plate and back to her eyes. “Yea, I remember.”

She sighs heavily and faces her head to the ceiling. She closes her eyes and breathes in deeply.

“Hannah, what is going on? I feel like I’m lost here.”

---