“And what about him? Do you feel it when he’s close?”
Hot tears sting the backs of my eyes and I nod. “I do.”
“There’s your answer.” His gaze settles on my hand, his eyes burning into the ring on my finger. “That’s all you need to know.”
“But I don’t even remember putting it on. How can I trust a decision I don’t remember making?” My question is punctuated by a distant owl call.
“You’re the smartest girl I know. I trust your decision. Maybe you should too.”
“I need to know something first.”
He hangs his head. “You should talk to your fiancé.”
“Did I sleep with you?”
The clouds shift again, and the moonlight casts shadows on the beautiful hard angles of his face. My heart pounds hard as he steps closer. He tilts my chin up until my eyes are on his.
“What do you think?”
“I think we all make mistakes.”
Something flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, his expression whitewashed by that stoner-may-care blankness.
I have to repeat the question. If I don’t, I might lose my nerve and run away without hearing the answer. “Did we have sex?”
“No. We didn’t.”
There’s no relief at his words. Not really. Only emptiness. Any way you paint it, I still betrayed my fiancé. I’ve been promising myself I’d tell Max the truth if I learned that I slept with Nate. Maybe I wanted the excuse to confess.
“Goodnight, angel.”
“Don’t go.”
He closes his eyes, and I can’t help myself anymore. I touch his face, carefully, tentatively. He stands stock-still as I skim my fingertips over the rough stubble of his cheek, study him while his eyes are closed. Then I just hold there, neither of us moving or breathing. Caught in the moment and the moonlight.
When he opens his eyes, they’re filled with pain. With longing. Is that real, or am I seeing what I want to believe?
He’s as much a mystery to me as this connection between us.
He parts his lips and his eyes lock with mine. Just when I think we might stand here forever, a tragic tableau of secrets and heartache, he shifts a fraction of an inch and leans into my touch.
“Dammit, Hanna.” The words are soft, tortured. “What do you want me to do?”
“Kiss me.” And I can’t believe what I’m asking, but the command is out there and I can’t take it back. I don’t want to.
“How am I supposed to say no to that?”
“You’re not.”
His gaze dips to my lips, and my heart races. A pace so painful and violent I fear it might burst from my chest right here and fall to his feet.
As his mouth moves toward mine, a sense of calm washes over me. My shoulders drop. My breathing slows. For a moment, my past doesn’t matter. My future doesn’t matter. Only here. Only now.
When his lips are so close I can almost taste him, he squeezes his eyes shut and leans his forehead against mine. “I love you too much to screw this up for you. I love you too much to let you beat yourself up over a stupid kiss.” He staggers back.
“I’m sorry.” My hand goes to my mouth. Shame washes over me, a hot rush followed by the icy-cold grip of loneliness. “I shouldn’t have… I don’t know why—”
“Go home, Hanna. Go be with your future husband.”