Page 28 of Until Hanna

“Let me ask you something,” April cuts in, and I focus on her face in the corner of my computer screen. “If you didn’t still have the bitter taste of Ben’s betrayal in your mouth, would you have agreed to see Walker when he told you he wanted to see you again?”

“Maybe,” I snap.

“Then I’m glad he’s going to this extreme to get and keep your attention.” She smirks.

“You forget.” I narrow my eyes on her smug face. “I didn’t tell him that I wanted to see him again, and I was just supposed to have a vacation fling—which, I might add, wasyourbrilliant suggestion.”

“You’re right, but sometimes we get in our own way, thinking we’re protecting ourselves, when all we’re actually doing is causing a different kind of damage. Trust me. I’ve been there and done that, so good for him for going after what he wants.”

“And what about what I want?”

“You want him, Hanna. You’re just being stubborn.” Harmony rolls her eyes.

“Now, the real question here is… have you gone through his phone?” July asks, and I jerk back.

“What? No! Absolutely not.”

“You should.” She shrugs. “You can tell a lot about a person by what is in their phone. Think about how much information you have on your phone, from old texts to photos. Heck, even your Google searches say a lot about who you are.”

“Unlike him, I respect other people's privacy.”

“I’m going to assume from that comment that he’s gone through your phone already?” April smiles.

“Yes, and thanks for the message asking if he was good in bed.”

“You’re welcome.” She grins, then her look becomes curious. “So how was he?”

“We're not talking about that.”

“She’s blushing, so that means he’s good.” May laughs, then asks, “When are you seeing him again?”

“He’s still in Ibiza and is going back to work. He said he has time off in a couple of weeks. We’ll meet up then to exchange phones.”

“I guarantee you’re going to do a lot more than exchange phones when you see him again.” April grins, and I sigh.

Any other family would consider this whole situation with Walker concerning, but of course mine thinks his behavior is completely normal.

“I’m going to hang up now. I need to get ready for work in the morning.”

“Keep us updated on what’s going on.”

Ignoring that request, I hang up after saying goodbye and glance over at Walker’s phone on my nightstand. Picking it up, the screen comes to life, and I stare at his picture for a moment before sliding my finger across the bottom. A tiny voice in the back of my head urges me to snoop, and even though I know it’s wrong, I touch the Photos icon and begin swiping through his pictures.

A lot of them are of the ocean and him diving, but there are a few of who I’m guessing is his sister and her son. Exiting out of his photos, I go to his texts and scroll through without opening any of them up before I go to his search engine.

I don’t know what I expect to find. I just know that mine is mostly filled with clothing shops, restaurants, and recipes. His isn’t much more exciting—websites for diving gear mixed with scores for football games.

The latest one in his long list grabs my attention though, because it’s for the travel time between London and Bournemouth, where he’s working, which I find out is less than two hours by train. I know I shouldn’t assume him googling that question has anything to do with me, but in my gut, I know it does.

And darn if I don’t like the way it makes me feel, knowing he wanted to calculate how far we’d be from each other.

CHAPTER9

hanna

God, I’m ridiculous. I think to myself as I sit in the in the coffee shop outside my gate, and scan through the text exchange between Walker and me from this last week. I miss him, which is laughable since I’m the one who said I wouldn’t want to see him again after our time in Ibiza. Yet here I am, pining away for even the sound of his voice, something I haven’t heard since he lost cell service, and only has spotty limited Internet on the ship.

When a message suddenly appears from him my stomach dips.

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