Page 37 of Until Hanna

“You know, it’s really inappropriate that you keep looking at my messages.”

“Like you haven’t looked at mine?” he asks, and I press my lips together as he moves his hand to my ass.

He knows I’ve looked at his texts, because I told him about it after I opened them up. But in all fairness, it wasn’t my fault—or not really. It was that voice inside my head that is dead-set on proving he’s just like every other guy. That’s why, when a woman named Layla messaged him, and all I saw was there was a photo attached, I opened it up.

I expected it to be something explicit that would prove me right. Only, it wasn’t. It was just the image of a tear in the hull of a ship, with the added question,Do you think you’d be able to fix this?

When I told him about it, he said Layla works for the Marines, and they have done a few jobs together over the years, repairing boats and even submarines in deep water. He left it at that and didn’t give me a hard time about opening the text. The only thing he asked was that I send him her number, since he didn’t have it.

“That was different.” I run my fingers through his hair, pushing it back out of his face as his gaze roams mine. “Ben is the guy I was dating who I didn’t know was married,” I admit, and his expression turns hard. “I ran into him yesterday, and he told me he wanted to explain things.”

“And what did you say?”

“I laughed in his face and threatened to scream down the coffee shop if he didn’t get away from me.”

“Good girl.” He squeezes my ass.

“Was that the only message?”

“Yeah. Were you expecting another one?”

“Maybe.” I chew the inside of my cheek, then say quietly, “I thought Star might message me about tomorrow.”

“Your plans?” I nod. “You said you were going to explain that.”

“My friend Star’s husband’s brother is in town, and—”

“No,” he cuts me off before I can even finish.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.” I frown at him.

“You just said it, baby. Your friend, her husband, and his brother are doing something, and they want you to tag along. Which means wherever you’re going and whatever it is you’re doing, you will be with the brother. So, the answer is actuallyfuckno.”

“You can’t just decide that. And I already agreed to go.”

“You know you shouldn’t have agreed to go on a date.”

“It’s not a date.” I huff.

“It sounds exactly like a double date, babe.”

“It’s not. I made Star promise it’s not.”

“Great, since she promised it’s not, we can both go.” He smiles but it’s not a real smile.

“You are not going with me!” My eyes widen at the thought.

“Why not? If it’s just some friends hanging out, I don’t see why I can’t be included.”

“Oh my God, you cannot be serious.”

“Very. So where are we going?”

“You’re not going anywhere! We’re going to dinner, then maybe out for a drink.”

“Dinner and drinks,” he repeats slowly, and darn, I know exactly what he’s thinking, because dinner and drinks is totally a date thing for couples to do.

“It’s not a date,” I repeat, and he lowers his face an inch from mine, while his hand slides under my T-shirt and comes to rest on my bare stomach.

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