Page 49 of Cross Check Hearts

We give up the game of truth or dare after that as we nurse our drinks and dig into our food, letting our conversation flow naturally. She’s easy to talk to, and I feel a little rush of satisfaction every time I make her laugh.

When the lights overhead flicker, both of us look up in surprise. I had no idea we’d closed down the bar.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” I tell her as I drop several bills on the table, then slide out of the booth and offer her my hand. She stares at it for a second, a slightly wary look on her face, and I chuckle. “It’s okay, I don’t have any ulterior motives. I just don’t think you have any business driving tonight. Neither do I.”

“You’re probably right,” she mumbles and takes my hand to put weight on it as she tries to stand. But she sways a little when she’s on her feet and giggles.

“No, I’mdefinitelyright,” I say with a chuckle.

With my hand on her lower back, I walk her out of the bar. The bartender is waiting at the door to lock it behind us, and I give him a nod before pulling my phone out of my pocket and tapping at the screen to call us a ride.

“What’s your address?” I ask her, and she recites it quickly. I type in the address and tap to request the ride.

The car arrives within five minutes, a Camry with a young brunette woman behind the wheel. I help Hannah into the back seat and make sure she’s buckled in, then slide in beside her.

The driver watches us in the rearview mirror, and when my eyes meet hers, she scrunches her brows a little at the reflection of me and Hannah in the mirror as if she recognizes one or both of us. Thankfully, she doesn’t ask, just puts the car into gear as soon as I’ve got my own seatbelt buckled and turns on the radio as we hit the road.

“Oh, Ilovethis song. Can you turn it up a little, please?” Hannah asks.

“Me too, actually,” the driver says and turns the dial. It’s not a song I recognize, but Hannah knows every word, and maybe it’s because of all the whiskey she’s had, but she’s not afraid to sing along. She gets louder as the song goes on, but the driver doesn’t seem to mind, she just grins at us in the rearview and turns the volume up a little more.

Hannah’s voice isn’t perfect, but there’s something endearing about her simple enjoyment of the music, the way she closes her eyes and gets lost in it. I find myself watching her, mesmerized by this glimpse of her when she’s completely free of self-consciousness.

I’m fucking obsessed with this woman, and I can’t stop touching her. Can’t get close enough to her. The memory of her has haunted me ever since that night we shared months ago, and I honestly never thought I’d see her again. So to be sitting here in the back seat with my hand tangled up in hers and listening to her singing, so carefree and happy, feels a little surreal.

When we stop outside Hannah’s apartment, that feeling only grows stronger. I always knew she had a place she called home, but to be here and see it while her warm body is pressed against mine and our fingers are linked together makes me feel like I should pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.

“Would you mind waiting for me while I help her inside?” I ask the driver, and she nods in the mirror.

I help Hannah out of the car, then walk her to the front door. She fishes in her purse for her key and finally digs it out but dawdles on the stoop like she doesn’t want this night to end any more than I do. I’d love to follow her inside, to do all those things she said she’s fantasized about, but not tonight. Not when she’s had this much to drink.

I want her fully present and sober when I finally claim her the way we both want.

Instead, I rest one hand on her upper arm and lean in to kiss her. She meets me, her lips parting. We linger in it, and she wraps her hands around my neck to kiss me deeper. I don’t want it to end, don’t want to let her go, but I reluctantly pull back and brush her cheek with the back of my fingers, smiling.

“Thank you for a great night,” she says, and I wrap my hand around the back of her head to gently pull it closer to me so I can kiss her forehead.

“I should be the one thankingyou, hummingbird,” I murmur as I lean back. “I had an amazing time.”

“Me too. Good night,” she turns to unlock the door.

Once she’s safely inside, I stand there for a moment longer, staring at her closed door, already counting the minutes until I can see her again.

Chapter22

Hannah

Normally, I’m at my most centered when I’m doing yoga, but no matter how hard I try during this class, I can’t get my mind to focus on anything other than Declan. It’s been like this for days now, ever since the night he crashed my dinner with Aaron. I think the rest of the class is picking up on it too because I’ve had a few of my regulars ask me if I’m okay when my face flushes at the memory of the heated rounds of truth or dare we were playing.

“Focus on your breath,” I remind my students as I walk between their mats, trying desperately to take my own advice. “Let everything else fall away.”

But that’s just the problem—I can’t let everything else fall away. Not with Declan constantly occupying my thoughts, his smile, his touch, his voice all playing on repeat in my mind like my favorite song.

I need to get it together, but I can’t help it. I had more fun with Declan that night than I can remember having in a long time—and way more fun than I think I’ve ever had with Aaron, not that that’s saying much. It doesn’t help that I’m supposed to meet with Declan for another private lesson right after this class, so the entire time I’ve been leading my students through various poses, I haven’t been able to stop myself from thinking about what Declan would say or think if he saw me bent over with my back arched.

“Beautiful form, Janice,” I say to one of my regulars, a sixty-something grandmother who’s been coming to my classes for nearly a year. She winks at me as if she knows exactly where my mind has been wandering.

“Thanks, honey. You seem distracted today. That handsome hockey player still coming for his private lesson?” she asks, lowering her voice so the others can’t hear.

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