Page 48 of Until Hanna

“No, I need a drink.” She takes a seat next to Charles, which also puts her next to Walker.

“Do you want my wine? I haven’t drank from it.” I push my glass toward her, and she picks it up, downing half of it.

“Thanks.” She rubs her nose. “That room is a bloody nightmare.”

“It is. It’s like one of those fun houses with all the mirrors,” I explain to Walker.

“I hate those things.”

“Me too.” I watch Dawn down the rest of my wine as the waitress walks over to drop off the appetizer the men ordered, and before she leaves, Walker asks her for another glass of wine for me before I even have a chance to think about doing it myself.

As the evening progresses, we go from dinner to dessert, then move to the round bar in the middle of the room so we can free up our table for the next reservation. And while Walker charms everyone with tales from the jobs he’s done and stories about the history of the treasure he’s currently helping search for, he keeps me within reach. He constantly meets my gaze like he’s making sure I’m okay before going back to whoever he’s talking to.

It’s oddly comforting, knowing that even with his attention elsewhere, I’m still the most important person in the room to him. That is not something I have ever experienced in any relationship. And if I’m honest with myself, it’s something I don’t want to risk losing by getting in my own way.

CHAPTER14

hanna

Waking up to the sound of pounding coming from the wall next to my head, I roll over with a groan and start to pull the pillow over my face but stop. My eyes shoot open, and panic rips through my chest when I find the side of the bed Walker has been sleeping on empty, and the sheets are cold to the touch. For the last seven days, I haven’t once woken up or gone to sleep without him. But today, he’s leaving, so this moment feels a lot like déjà vu.

“Walker?” I call out and get nothing, not even the sound of him somewhere in my apartment.

Sitting up, I toss back the covers and rush to the closet with my heart thundering. I swing it open… and close my eyes in relief when I find his duffle bag right where it’s been for the last week, with his clothes still falling out of it.

“What are you doing?”

Startled, I jump and turn to find him holding Mizzy in the crook of his arm like a baby while rubbing her belly.

“I thought you left,” I admit, and his expression softens. Dropping Mizzy to the end of the bed, he pulls me against him and wraps his arms around me.

“I wouldn’t have left without telling you.”

“You did,” I remind him as I press my face into his bare chest. His arms get tighter before he loosens his hold and cups my jaw. When I finally meet his gaze, he presses a soft kiss to my lips, then leans back to look me in the eye once more.

“Does this mean you’re ready to admit that you like me?”

“No,” I lie, and he grins, walking me backward to the bed. When the back of my knees hit the mattress, I topple, and he lands on me, burying his face in the crook of my neck and making me laugh.

“It sucks I gotta leave today,” he whispers against my skin, and my heart constricts.

“I know,” I whisper back.

Kissing my collarbone, he leans back, resting his elbow on the mattress next to my head, and sifts his fingers through my hair while tears sting my nose. This time with him has flown by in a blink, and I’m not ready for him to go, not yet. Especially when I know that when he gets back on the boat, I won’t even be able to hear his voice.

“I’ll be back in a couple of weeks.”

“And then you’ll be gone again,” I say quietly, touching his jaw.

“Is that the next thing you’re going to use to push me away?” he asks, holding my gaze, and I shake my head.

“No, but it’s the truth, isn’t it? You’ll come back and consume my life for a week or maybe two, then you’ll be gone again, and all we’ll have is text messages or emails for weeks, and then we’ll do it all over again. And eventually, the distance will start to eat away at us, even if we put in the effort to keep in touch—something that will be difficult with both of us working. Then at some point, one of us will give u—” I cut myself off when I realize he’s smiling. “Why are you smiling?”

“Because while you’re planning our demise, I’m planning our future.” He smooths his thumb across my bottom lip. “I’m not willing to give up on the idea of us, just because things won’t be easy. I like what we have, and I know your fear of losing it means you like it too. So we’ll figure out how to make it work. And yes, it’s going to suck having to be away from you for weeks, and I’m going to hate not being able to listen to you snore every night.”

“I do not snore,” I gasp, and he grins.

“But one day down the road, if we both put in the effort now, you’ll be sick of seeing my face. And instead of arguing with me about why this won’t work, you’ll fight with me about shit like where we're going to live and what to name our kids.”

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