Hannah steps away. With a last look at me, she heads for the door, hips swaying as she walks out into the December night. I’m practically floating on the way back to my table, like ten minutes with her really were the highlight of my day.
It’s probably true.
“There he is.” Parker clasps my shoulder. “We were getting worried about you.”
“Told you I was talking to a friend.” I pour myself another beer, sipping it like it’s water. “It was good to see them.”
“Must’ve been some friend,” Mikal says with a smirk. “Brody is smiling.”
I touch the corner of my mouth, a grin sitting there.
Guess I am.
EIGHTEEN
HANNAH
Grant
Do you think I’d be a good dad?
Me
Something you need to tell me, G?
Grant
No. God no! Nothing like that!
Mav and Emmy’s baby will be here soon, and I’m contemplating.
Me
Yes, I think you’d be a great dad.
But I also think you’d be an exhausted dad, because you always put everyone else first. I know you. You’d never make time for yourself.
Grant
Good point. I also love my sleep.
I’ll table it for a few years.
Me
When you do decide it’s time for kids, they’re going to be so lucky to have you as their parent.
Grant
Shucks, Han. That was sweet.
Me
Have you shaved your face yet? Your mustache is still horrifying.
Grant
I knew the moment was too good to be true.
