Page 114 of Promise Me Nothing
“Now, will you hate me if I ask you to sneak out while he’s in the shower?”
I laugh, press a kiss to her forehead. “Not even a little bit.”
Hannah helps me collect the last of my things, then walks me out, down to The Strand where my bike is parked in storage.
“I’ll text you soon,” I say, taking her face in both of my hands and looking into those gorgeous green eyes of hers. “Last night was amazing. Be prepared for me to annoy the shit out of you this summer.”
Her expression is soft but her eyes are bright as I lean down, kissing her on the lips. She kisses me back, her hands resting lightly on my hips. Then she smiles, kisses my nose.
“Bye.”
I swing a leg over to sit on my bicycle and head down The Strand, turning back to give Hannah a wave.
But as I’m turning my head to focus on where I’m going, my eyes catch on a figure on the rooftop.
It’s Lucas, standing on his third floor balcony, watching me with a flat expression as I ride away.
Hannah: Lucas is having a party on Friday night. I work until 10, but I’ll be home after. Are you going to come?
Me: Well, that’s up to you isn’t it?
Hannah: Is that a jizz joke?
Me: Ha! Yup. Yes it is.
I put my phone down, laughing at Hannah’s ability to take a sexual innuendo and makemelaugh as if it wereherjoke.
She’s starting to come out of her shell, and it makes me happy for her. And I feel like that’s a big difference between her and other girls I’ve spent time with.
I’m happy forher,not for me because I get to enjoy the changes I’m seeing. I mean, yes, I’m happy I get to see her changing and coming out of her shell. But my primary interest is in how it affects her, changes her relationships, bolsters her own confidence.
The Hannah that showed up in Hermosa Beach a month ago was shy and insecure. Beautiful, yes. Caring, absolutely. And I loved how she treated Ivy, though it was quite the kick to the gut to find out the truth. That she was Ivy’s sister, the one I’d fought hard for Lucas to keep away from our town.
Now, she’s making her own relationships, planning for things she wants to happen in the future, smiling and laughing more.
It makes me happy for her, knowing she’s enjoying her life here. Hoping that a part of that happiness is because of me.
I shake my head, wondering when I turned into this heartsick fool that gets sentimental about a girl. A woman. I grit my jaw as I remember her coming apart in my hands as we watched the fireworks on Monday evening.
My guess, if I had to make one, is that she’s a virgin.
From the way she’s talked about men since I’ve known her, the stories she’s shared about her life, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn she doesn’t let anyone with a penis get close to her.
It only occurred to me at the worst possible time. When I was going down on her after our date. I’d seen her face, the absolute surprise and awe rippling through her expression, and I’d had a moment of concern.
Was I pushing her?
Was it too fast?
But she’d gripped me hard and pulled me in, and I was lost in her again.
During college, and then when I was in San Fran, I was quite the busy body. Literally. And normally, virginity is a deal breaker. I ascribed to the belief that virgins fall in love after their first time, and that was just never something I saw in the cards for myself. So the best thing I could do was steer clear of the cherries.
I thought about it a bit between Saturday and Monday, and for some reason, with Hannah, it isn’t something that matters.
If anything, it’s a bit intimidating. Knowing I might be her first time. There’s a lot of pressure in that. Expectation. The possibility for disappointment.
And again, another reason why things with Hannah are so different. In the past, it was always about avoiding the girls who would put expectations on me that I didn’t want.
