“No, she’s coming. And I’m not here. You didn’t see me.”
“Hmmm. Weird.” She reaches out and pinches me on the arm. I yelp. “It seems like you’re here.”
“Fine. I’m here. Ouch. That hurt.”
“Why are you here?”
I avert my gaze. “Wren’s flight doesn’t get in until this afternoon, so I thought I’d get in a few hours of stretching and work on my floor choreography. I’m still a little off on that second section.”
She pinches me again.
“Ow. What the hell?”
“Hannah Walsh.” Kinsley places both hands on her hips. “Why are you here instead of home in bed with your hot husband?”
I look away. I’m too embarrassed and it’s too damn early. Or at least I didn’t sleep enough to be up at this hour.
“You didn’t tell him how you feel,” she says, accusatory and matter of fact.
I don’t bother denying it.
“We had a plan, Hannah. You tell your hottie husband you’re falling for him when he gets home from his trip, you kiss the crap out of him, and then you report back to tell your best friend all about it.”
My face heats. It’s an accurate if not precise description of the plan. Yes, I planned to tell Travis I’m falling for him and yes, I was hoping it ended with kissing him again, but really, I just needed to get it off my chest. I thought what I was feeling was all mixed up with the situation and the nice things he’s done for me, but the truth is I’ve been looking for reasons not to fall for him because it scares the crap out of me. He scares the crap out of me.
I spent most of my life in relationships with men who didn’t really give a shit about me and that was fine. I was never going to make them a priority anyway. Maybe they could sense that. But not Travis. He’s unapologetic about his feelings, and the harder I fall for him, the scarier it feels to give in completely. I mean, where can this possibly go? We got married the first time we hung out. We haven’t even dated. We’ve done everything out of order.
Despite all that, I want to try. Or I did.
Today I’m second-guessing everything.
“What happened?” Kinsley asks in a softer tone.
“Nothing. I didn’t tell him. I made his favorite muffins, and I stayed up until he got home, but I couldn’t do it. Something was off with him last night.”
Her gaze narrows.
“I’m not making it up. He was being…weird.” Something was definitely off, and I don’t think it was the loss to San Jose. Or not only that. Maybe I’m overthinking it, but it just didn’t feel right.
“I think you’re just chicken.” She pokes me just below the collarbone. Hard.
“Ouch. You are very violent today.”
“I haven’t had any caffeine yet.”
“Something really was up. I promise.”
She looks only half convinced.
“I made his favorite muffins and I rambled on about how grateful I was and he just stared at me, Kins. He didn’t even take the bait when I accidentally slipped and called him my husband.”
“Heisyour husband.”
“Yeah, yeah, but usually when I say it, he gets all…” I trail off, picturing his cocky smirk. It was nowhere to be seen last night. “Maybe he’s over me.”
“Oh, please.”
“It isn’t the craziest thought. He’s stopped blatantly trying to get my attention, and February isn’t that far away. He might be thinking ahead, looking forward to bachelor life again.”
