I pulled his mouth to mine to stop whatever he was about to say. His hand slid between us, finding where we were joined, where I needed him, and his touch made me arch off the bed. Close. So close. But I didn’t want it to end because then we’d have to stop pretending.
“Don’t—” The word slipped out before I could stop it, but I bit off the rest.Don’t leave. Don’t go. Don’t make me be alone again.
Connor made a sound like I’d hurt him, and his rhythm faltered. I pulled him closer, hiding my face in his neck. “Just—don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
His movements got more urgent, more desperate, and I matched him, chasing the edge where I didn’t have to think, didn’t have to feel anything except the physical.
When I came, it felt like falling apart. I cried out—his name or just noise, I couldn’t tell—and felt him follow, his whole body shaking.
After, we lay tangled together, both breathing hard. The room spun when I closed my eyes, so I kept them open, staring at the ceiling as I dropped my foot to the floor—something to ground me and keep me from floating off.
“Hannah,” Connor murmured.
“Hmm?”
Silence. Then: “Nothing. Just… Hannah.”
His arm tightened around me, and I felt tears slip out. I wiped them away quickly, hoping he was too drunk to notice.
Tomorrow, he’d leave. Tomorrow, I’d have to figure out how to be okay again. How to go back to sleeping by myself and pretending I had my life together.
Tomorrow, I’d be alone.
But tonight—tonight I had this. His warmth, his weight, the rise and fall of his chest. I could pretend a little longer.
I fell asleep before the pretending could crack, before I had to face what any of this meant.
In the morning, everything would go back to normal.
In the morning, I’d be alone again, and I would be fine.
I had to be.
Connor
Myheadpoundedwithevery heartbeat, a steady throb behind my eyes that made me regret every single shot Alex had convinced me to take. My mouth tasted like I’d licked the floor of a distillery. When I swallowed, my stomach lurched in protest.
Hannah laid strewn across me again, just like three months ago—her legs twined with mine, her arm possessive around my waist. Except this time, instead of her tank top and sleep shorts, she was naked. We both were.
And just like before, I was overwhelmed… because I knew this couldn’t last.
Even through the hangover fog with nausea crawling up my throat, I couldn’t bring myself to move. Not when Hannah was pressed against me like this, soft and warm and mine for however much longer I could keep her.
My brain churned, trying to figure out how to fix this mess I’d created by telling her that we’d end things after the wedding.
Long distance.
That was the only solution that made sense. It was only three or four hours by car, six by train. I could leave after work onFriday and be at the apartment when she got home from work, spend Saturday and Sunday mornings together, then be back for work on Monday. She could come to New York mid-week and we could spend the evenings together. While I was at work, she could apply for jobs. She could put my address on her resume so the recruiters would take her more seriously.
The distance and the opposing schedules wouldn’t be easy, but I wasn’t ready to give her up. Now I just had to convince her to give me a chance.
I’d put my phone on silent last night, not wanting the pressure of Victoria’s travel plans hovering over us. Instead of riding in her car, I could take the train tonight, or maybe tomorrow. After I asked Hannah for more time.
But my plans hadn’t accounted for the loud knock against the front door.
The pounding matched the rhythm in my skull, each rap making my head throb worse. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing whoever it was to go away.
The knocking became more insistent.
