Page 49 of Crash and Burn

“Andsecrethobbies could include?”

“Switching John Green out for something a little spicier, or eating an entire sleeve of Girl Scout Cookies in the bathtub while watchingGrey’s Anatomyand drinking an entire bottle of wine to yourself.”

Humored, his brows shoot high on his forehead. “Personal experience?”

“Absolutely not.” A giggle rolls along my throat and ends with Thomas’ fingers venturing a smidge higher along my wrist.

Movement outside the restaurant catches my attention again, but though my stomach drops withwhat if, my eyes stop on Raul as he passes, his arm wrapped in another woman’s as they walk and laugh. Our eyes meet, and his drop to Thomas’ hand on mine. Slowly, a smug grin slides across his lips as I bring my free hand up and give a small finger wave.

Then he’s gone, and my date is still watching me. Waiting for our conversation to continue.

“Someone you know?”

I bring my gaze back around and stop on that lovely green pair. “Yeah. He’s my friend. Best friend, really.”

But why, when I say that, does Axel’s face come to the forefront of my mind? Why can’t I accept Raul as the best man I know, when Axel has proven not only cruel, but unworthy?

Because I know his potential.

“I guess he has a date tonight, too.” Taking a little initiative and turning my hand, I lay Thomas’ flat on the table, palm side up, and slide my fingertips along the lines.

He has calluses, which only reinforces my belief he lifts weights a few days a week. A wide palm, and thick fingers.

But my stomach doesn’t jump with nerves. Possibilities.

Nothing.

“What are your hobbies?”

His jaw pushes forward as he thinks and chuckles, while beneath my finger, his own move like our touch is electric to him. “I read spicy books in the bathtub and glut on Girl Scout Cookies in my spare time.”

“Shut up.” I sit back with a laugh, only to release his hand when our server steps forward with a notepad.

“Hi there.” She wears a cute black skirt and white shirt combination, with dark hair pulled back and a sweet smile that is focused entirely onmydate. “Are you ready to order?”

“Yeah.” I glance to Thomas to see if he’d like to take the lead, but when he gestures my way, I spare a fast glance for the menu I didn’t even read.

If you live in this town, you know what they offer.

“Uh, chicken and mushroom fettuccine.” I flash a bright smile and wait for our server to look at me. “Please.”

“Of course.” Her eyes flick straight back to Thomas. “And you?”

“Spaghetti bolognaise, and a small pizza for the table.” He winks, because I secretly wanted pizza too, and somehow, he knows it. “And another beer for me. Fresh glass of wine?” he offers.

“Uh…” I look down at my two-thirds empty glass, but I think we both know if I have a second, I’ll not only regret it when I have to get up early in the morning, but chances are, my flirt will turn up and my tolerance for a staring server will go down. So I shake my head and grin. “No, thanks.”

I peer out the window again while Thomas and the server talk for just a beat longer. I people-watch, as residents of a small town where everyone knows everyone else wander by. I sip my wine, and wish for a night of complete and utter freedom.

Where I could maybe have sex with the handsome and attentive, large-handed, and thick-fingered Thomas. Where I could giggle and flirt, maybe invite him into my apartment, and most of all,notthink of Axel Feeney, the constant ghost in my life.

Why, when I see a truck trundle by, do I instantly think it’s his?

Why, when I glimpse a man’s thick legs encased in blue jeans, do I assume they belong to him?

And dammit,why, when two men wearing beanies on their heads, despite the mild weather, shove their hands into their pockets and talk amongst themselves, do I obsess over the way Axel wears beanies in the winter and walks with his hands in his pockets like that?

“Hannah?” Thomas’ voice hits the very recesses of my consciousness. “Hey?”

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